#If I had a candle for every time someone close to me is corrupted by darkness

[serene-sky-kid]

Serene and her friends always being corrupted by darkness This is an interaction that I asked @mushroomskykid for permission to draw, well actually I asked her if I could draw serene hugging nana, since in our hearts they are friends, but I think it came out more dramatic than it was supposed to be. I think Serene would be very worried, she doesn't have very good experiences with … dark plants growing in the body of a loved one and knowing nana since they were just a little skykid hurts me in my heart. Please Nana be strong, The strongest mushroom

[folkloresthings]

Lando Norris + inexperienced reader corruption kink. That’s it. That’s the prompt.

anon i had to write a little more than just my thoughts for this bc i genuinely couldn’t think for a second when you sent this in

“don’t worry, baby. i’ll take good care of you.”

lando’s voice is low as he strips you of your shirt, gentle with every touch he lays on your timid frame. you’d had the conversation with lando at the start of your relationship, that you hadn’t slept with someone before and you weren’t quite ready. he respected you completely, but god he couldn’t ignore the heat that rose in his stomach when he thought of being your first.

when you’d come to him that morning to let him know you wanted him, all the way, he tried desperately not to jump on you. but he took his time, wanting to make it perfect. a nice dinner, some candles, ambient lightly. and then there you were, in your white cotton panties and he wants to devour you whole.

“are you sure about this?” lando asks for the fifth time, hovering above you with his toned chest and gentle eyes. you nod, more sure than you’ve ever been in your life, but he nudges your leg with his knee. “gonna need some words.”

“m’sure, lando. please.”

the soft whine in the back of your throat makes his knees wobble, lips attaching to your neck in an instant. once he’s in it, he’s done for. as much as he’d like to make sure he’s a gentle as possible with you, there’s a hunger growing in him he’s not sure he can ignore.

“fuck. jesus, baby,” his head falls to the pillow beside you as soon as he slips inside your heat. “so fucking tight.”

the stretch of his cock is divine, even the initial sting when he enters you, hands grasping at his strong back to ground yourself from the wave of intense pleasure. lando pulls back to look down at you, your eyes fluttered close and cheeks flushed as you curse his name quietly.

“jesus christ,” lando moans, hips shifting to thrust up into you. you curl into him, clouding his mind as he grips your waist, resisting the urge not to ruin you. “you’re so good, darling. so nice an’ warm for me — all mine.”

you can barely speak, only whimpers and faint moans of lando’s name filling the room the harder he fucks you, tip brushing that heavenly spot deep inside of you. lando’s eyes cloud red, thoughts racing the more he watches you writhe in pleasure.

“so tight, fuck. m’the first to stretch you out, huh?” lando moans breathlessly, hips stuttering when your walls clench around him. “making you all dirty, aren’t i? such an angel for everyone and then you turn into a slut in bed, hm?”

for a moment, his words slip out quicker than he means them to. but when they pull only louder moans from you, he knows he’s in deep.

“you like that, baby?” he whispers, gently nibbling at the skin of your throat, fingers teasing your clit with every thrust deeper into your. “no one’s ever gonna make you feel this good. only me, you’re all mine. mine to ruin.”

“yes, yes. yours, lando,” you gasp out. “i’m yours.”

his thrusts speed up, chasing the orgasm that your words spur on. once he feels your own high hit, your back arching into him and legs shaking against his own, he quickly pulls out. his hot, white load shoots onto your bare stomach in abundance, covering your soft skin with his sticky cum. it’s a sight he needs to have hung on his wall — his corruption painted on your flesh, chest still reeling from your orgasm.

“fucking hell, love,” lando whispers, softly kissing you. “i’m gonna make you cum five more times before bed if i get to see your pretty little eyes rolling back again.”

[jess-fae]

Corruption, oh sweet Corruption

Summary: you grew up in a Christian household which lead to you becoming a nun. While going through old scrolls of the archive you find a old Latin text, you ask an older nun to help translate it and she does. Problem while you do the ritual you pronounce something wrong and summon a sex demon also known as hobie...

(Also the reader did have a crush on a girl before yk genderfluid hobie and all)

Trigger warning: +18 smut, afab, GENDERFLUID HOBIE,religious themes, religious trauma, the Christian God? P in V, reader is around 19? I am not Christian today but I was when I was younger, I do not know how british accents work

Since you can remember your life as always revolved around God. The Christian one to be specific. Your life was already planned by the time your first birthday came around, after you turned 16 your training to become a nun started, this was now nearly 3 years ago.

You started your day as usual, prayers, church service, breakfast ect. But after lunch you decide to go to the archive, studying the scrolls and books actively. When a rather old one fell in your hands, it was written in Latin a language you only roughly knew. Deorum ritu it read which roughly translated into "God's ritual". Pecking your interest you decided to go to a older Nun asking her for help with the translation, which she so kindly did. By the next day you had found out that it was a ritual only the most devoted dared to go through with. It would give God full access to your mind, proofing your devotion to him.

You wanted to proof to God just how loyal you would be to him. So you gathered everything you would need which included candles, frankincense and holy water with roses inside of it. Hidding in a smaller room within the cathedral you prepared everything for the ritual. The cold stone-y room was nearly completely dark, exept for the moon light shining through the stained glass and the few candles being the only source of light to you. Excitement rushed throughout your body but also a small amount of uncertainty, after all you were about to lay out every thought, every emotion you ever felt or will feel out to a all mighty God.

With help from the nun you had learned the text in Latin, to really buy into the ritual. Your knees hit the floor as you kneeled infront of the cross hanging on the wall. Words started to rush out of your mouth, one after another till you were finished with the text. But nothing happened, opening your eyes you looked around the room but nothing had changed, you didn't feel different either. Did you do it wrong? Maybe you-

With once the candles were blown out as if they were hit with wind, and darkness filled the room. You turned towards the door thinking someone must have opened it but it was still closed, you looked at it closer till you felt cold hands on your waist making you squirm away, a short scream leaving your lungs before being muffled by one of the hands.

"Shh, dove wouldn't wan' anyone hearing ya right?"

Your eyes widened in horror when your gaze fell on the huge creature. Big horns covered in golden rings and jewellery piercing through the sky. A tail that softly swayed behind him, it was equally decorated with Jewellery and does shiny fangs that were just waiting to pierce his next victims skin. "Who- what are you?" You asked while backing off from him wanting to create as much distance between him and you as possible. The demon however seemed a little more puzzled before staring at your hand that was clunching your rosary. His smirk grew a little wider before he spoke. "The demon you so kindly summoned, you can call me hobie."

You shook your head violently, "no- I." You protested looking up to stare into his honey golden eyes. "I didn't summon you, I prayed to god!" But he only let out a little chucklewas this amusing to him? Hobies hand took yours stealing the rosary right out of it, throwing it somewhere on the ground. "Sure thing,dove. You don't have to be ashamed, most people who summon me are nuns, Christian men or what is in between. They love the forbidden feeling it gi-"

"No! I would never!" Hobie looked a little surprised but his grin quickly came back. It was gonna be so much fun corrupting you, showing you just how usless your god is and how you would be better of without him. Hobie stepped towards you so you automatically stepped back.

"It doesn't matter now tho, you summoned, binded me to ya actually. I know ya, I know what you think, I know what you feel dove. Just like I know that I look like what you most desire." He smirked trying to reach for you'd hand again, you pulled it away falling over in the process. Crawling backwards to get away from the demon, away from sin. His soothing voice started talking again but you didn't listen, this had to be a test by god. To really see how worthy you are of his love. Your eyes landed on the bowl of holy water behind him, if you are just quick enough. Jumping to your feet you reached for the bowl swiftly, splashing the holy water all over the demon.

When he looked up again you saw his eyeliner running down his cheeks, making him look like he cried black tears. Hobie spat out the water that landed in his mouth and attempted to shake the rest of it off his lean body. The remaining water glistening on his exposed chest thanks to the moon light.

"Are ya fucking daft?! Did you- urgh did you really think a little bit of water would kill me?" He spat at you before taking a deep breath in. Crouching down to your level starring in your eyes. "How about ya repeat what ya prayed and we figure this out, mmh dove?" Hobies voice was back to being the most tempting thing on earth making your thighs subconsciously press together.

You did as you were told and repeated your text in Latin and English while he starred into your soul. The words rang disgust within hobie, he never understood why people would choose to follow such a selfish and cruel being. Yet his smirk revived itself when you finished speaking.

"Who helped ya translate it dovie?" He asked smugly. "An older Nun,why?"

"Ya translated it wrong, you think it meant love when it meant lust and ya also didn't pray to god at any point, was always me dove." Hobie laughed as the realisation hit you and tears filled your eyes. This couldn't be, what would god think about you now? You need to redeem yourself. You turned towards the cross, praying, begging for god to forgive you. To see your true intentions. Meanwhile hobie couldn't decided if he found this amusing or sad. Creeping up from behind you,his hands found yours trying to prey them apart stopping the madness of begging for forgiveness. "Come on, dovie it's useless now." Hobies voice seemed so human, comforting even. Another one if his tricks, he's a demon they do anything to get what they want! You kept on praying through. "You are not real! You are simply my imagination a test from god to test my devotion a-and I won't fail him!"

You deluded yourself further and further into madness trying to ignor his cold chest pressing against your back. His voice was layered in lust and temptation as he spoke "God won't help you, he left you long ago dove." Hobies hands funnily got between yours holding them tightly in his, enjoying the warmth your body held. "It's okay, just let me take care of ya, I will be here." His words hurting you slightly but what did he knew? He's a demon, he has never even been close with God. "He hasn't been with you since you were 13, all this-" he gestured around you. "Is just a hopeless attempt to make him love you..."

Imagines of your younger self and her best friend kissing each other, saying that it was all just training for when they will be married to their husbands... you remember how loved and seen she made you feel.

Hobies lips started to nip at the soft skin below your ear, catching you of guard you let out a small whimper. As his hand grabbed hold onto your head wear ripping it off your head, making your hair fall out in the process. "So beautiful, you know tha' dove? Ya know how beautiful you are?" Turning around you once again looked into his eyes, they were soft and even through he was a demon they seemed angelic. He seemed angelic. A soft hand placed on your face, and you couldn't help but lean into it. "God has no right to judge you or anyone. He never did, he just took it selfishly forcing people to live after his standard."

The more he talked the more you wanted to give into him, follow his life of sin. His lips where so close to yours all you had to do was let yours connect to his. It was so easy to fall for sin, to give into it. So easy to make a pact with the devil...

Hobie was no idiot he knew why you were starring at his lips, you weren't cursing him or praying anymore he had you were he wanted you to be. "I can't do anything till you give me permission, dove." He smirked carefully watching your sanity and devotion to God slip away from you. Your eyes pressed shut as you sucked in a breath, before crashing your lips against his. They moved so effortless together, sending you into pure bliss. When you opened your eyes again the demon had changed their form. Still tall and menacingly beautiful but also more femininen. The black wicks had turned into longer locs and boobs had grown on their chest. The smirk was still the same however.

"Wha' you don' like me anymore ,love?" She asked, her voice sounding what you would imagine a siren would sound like when she was about to lure you to the end of a cliff and down in the ice cold ocean water. You were stunned, mouth falling open at her beauty. "You're gorgeous." You blurted out without thinking, making her chuckle. "I know, love." She sang, her hand at first resting on your cheek only to then pull you close to her again. Lips crashing against eachother like the waves of the ocean against the beach, this must be heaven. Your hands mimicked hers, having no real idea as to what you were supose to do. Hobie couldn't help but smirk against your lips, you were already going dumb for her, how lovely.

Grabbing your waist She pulled you on top of her lap, slowly making you grind against her thigh. Moans slipped from your mouth, this felt so good, why would God ever deny such blissful thing?

"Please-" you begged, in between kisses, with no real idea what you were asking for, besides hoping the pleasure would never stop. Not if it was hobie who gives it to you. "Please what love? Speak up for me will ya?" Hobie almost mocked you, smiling so innocently at you as if she wasn't pure sin. "Please... don't stop. I wanna-" you stopped yourself hidding your face in shame, till hobie put her slender fingers between your chin and made you look into her eyes. "Come one, you're a big girl, aren't you lovie?" She tilted her head to the side.

"I-...can you make me feel good? You know more than this?" Slight disgust and resentment laid within you, you should have never asked any of this! But ohh does eyes, hobies being is making sin look like something so good. Something God would never be able to do for you. Her head snapped back her smile becoming her signature smirk again. "How could I say no, if ya ask so nicely?" Grabbing your neck closing the distance between you, the moment you let yourself lose, hobie stood up making you cling your legs around her waist.

Your eyes opened abruptly scared she might let you fall, but her strong arms were holding you so tightly as if she wasn't making her way from your lips down to your neck. Using her claws to rip the fabric apart, giving her full access to your sweet spot behind your ear, kissing and sucking on it just to play with you. Her fangs ghosting over your soft skin, threating to break it, you would be lying if you said you didn't feel a little scared but somehow it also turned you on. Feeling something stroke your back you realised it was her tail bring you even closer to her, making sure you wouldn't run from her.

You let out a little whimper before she sat you on top of the cold stone table. "Hobie~" you whined wanting all the teasing to stop but somehow also not. "You wanna go further lovie?" She asked, to which you nodded swiftly. Claws digged into your gown tearing it apart leaving your skin exposed for her only. "No bra? Naughty girl." She smirked before her lips travelled from your neck across your chest. One hand playing with your nipple while she sucked on the other one, letting her teeth grasp around it ever so slightly, keeping you on edge. You mumbled a small more as your eyes rolled in the back of the head.

But it the pleasure only stopped making you sit up swiftly scared it might all just be a dream. "More? Are you sure you can handle it sweet love? You are already falling apart on me now?" She was mocking you, openly, you pounded. "Yes, yes please. I will be good I promise."

"Alright, but don't blame me if you can't handle it, Angel." Hobie licked her lips but instead of a normal sized tongue a huge one came out. Your mouth fell wide open but before you could say anything, she kissed down your belly. She one last time searched for your eyes before diving into the pure divine.

At first only kissing your clit before giving it kitten licks. "Mmffhh~~" you moaned resting on your lower arms as support. Which didn't do much for you so laid back down, as your arms turned into jelly like the rest of you. Your hands grabbing hold of her horns, bringing her closer to your core. Hobie was right, God could never make you feel like this only she can, you were sure of it. Lifting her head, she blowed on your clit her cold breath making you shudder and whine for her. Hooking her arms around your legs hobie brought you closer to the end of the table, kneeling infront of it. Hand sneaking around to your clit stroking it with circular motion.

Her tounge lapped up all your juices making hobies eyes roll in the back of her head. "Taste so good, my love. All for me right?"

"Yes! All for you."

Before you knew it her tounge trusted inside your hole, making your back arch hard. "Ffu- pffhh, please more!" You sounded so pretty in her ears. So perfect only for her. Hobie did as you asked her too and went fast, making you grab her horns grinding yourself against her. Her nose bumping against your clit In just the right way, sending you over the edge. Your eyes pressed so shut you could see the stars and with one last moan you had came all over her pretty face.

You relaxed letting go of her horns and slowly you opened your eyes, only to see her drenched in your cum. "I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be love you did amazing, tasted so good." Her words were more slurred as if she was getting drunk on you. Before you knew it hobie had turned back into his male form, as he used his thumb to pick up any left over cum on his face bringing it to his mouth. Sucking his finger dry while holding eye contact with you. "Soo good." He praised you again.

"Wanna make you feel good." You begged and a dark chuckle echoed through the room as you went on your knees. "Ya already are, Dove? Come on stand up, this about you not me." You did as you were told, having his hands lift you back on the table. "So pretty." His lips crashed on yours again a little rougher than before, as his tounge danced with yours, the taste of yourself came to your recognition making you moan into the kiss.

Hobies hands grabbed hold of your waist, squeezing it softly before having you laying back on the table. "Ya ready Dove?" He asked as he loosened his pants, that already didn't leave anything to your once pure and innocent imagination. "Yes!"

"Desperate are we?" He chuckled before he placed himself between your legs, stroking your clit with his thumb again, before dipping two fingers into your core. "Gliding righ' in there ya? Don't even need to prep ya dove huh?"

He continued to do so till he pulled his fingers out eyes squinting together, making you whine at the lost of contact, buckling your hips towards him again. "Stop whining, I asked ya something, would be rude not to answer, wouldn't it?"

"No please, keep going please." He smirked before continuing his work. Fingers scissoring you open and thrusting in you, working wonders on your gummy walls. Yet right before you could cum again the pulled his fingers out, "aww did you wanted to cum." Hobie fake pityed you. "Don't worry you gonna get there soon enough dove."

Hobie stroked rather beautiful dick, you were stunned to see that even his dick was decorated with Jewellery, or rather piercings and not one either, three Jacobs ladder and a prince Albert. "Like what ya see?" He chuckled but you couldn't stop looking at, also wondering if it would even fit. His hand rested on your cheek as he slowly kissed you, while rubbing his dick against your clit. Making you moan in the kiss and pull him closer. Hobie bit on your lip barely enough to not draw blood, while he slid himself inside of your heat.

"Fuck you're tight dove." He groaned as his eyes rolled back, trying to get a hold of himself to not cum already. You whined asking if he was in all the way. "Half way, sweet thing." You opened your eyes, looking where your hips should meet, to see that he was not lying. Whining you threw your head back, as small tears rolled down the side of your face. Meanwhile hobies hand trailed down to your clit again stroking it in small motions which seemed to help as slid right in you. His hips connecting with yours making you both moan out loud. "Fuck~ so good for me aren't ya?" You barley even understood hobie to high of the feeling of him being inside of you. "M-move, please!" Your voice sounded so desperate, nothing like a nun should sound like, the demon did as asked and grabbed a hold onto your hips as he made his way inside of you and out.

His strokes became faster making your eyes roll back and your mouth fell into a o-shape. "Good girl, taking ma dick like a champ!" His praises were like a drug fulling your desire more, never wanting the pleasure to stop. "Hobie~~" you moaned out his name, begging him to go harder. "P-please harder, use me please" you barely even got the words out, your being to mind being to clouded by pleasure. His smirk became more permanent, feeding on your pleasure.

A/N: I'm sorry I never finsihed it but you guys deserve this at the least

[irondelusionzombie]

The Witch who'd never 'Witch'

My rest didn't last long enough for me to recover from an encounter I had with a bandit. I cursed him with a 'deadly' spell that turned him into a tiny orange cat. That left me so exhausted I proceeded to sleep under a sallow tree. But a fearless storm interrupted my sleep, I woke up in wild wind and dreadnought water drops. The breeze was so strong that the willow above me fell on top of me and I fell unconscious.

When I woke up again, soft warmness from the light of candles caressed my skin. I was lying on a padded bed, the sheets smelled like lavender and the cushions were spreading a bright scent of spring strawberry. On my right there was a lady, with bright turquoise curls, honey eyes and tanned dark skin. She was wearing a thin lightweight white dress with a bright golden rope belt. She was relieved when I opened my eyes.

"Thank Vittaria you are alive, i found you just in time." Those were her first words, her voice was like the feathers of a bird with a balanced pitch, giving her a gentle tone.

"Then I should thank you, not Vittaria, '' I answered. She gave a thin smile with honey while she washed a small towel in a bowl. "May I ask your name, young lady?”

"It doesn't matter... I'm just a helper woman who lives in the woods"

"You mean, a witch, am i right?"

The lady gasped in silence, dropping the towel in the bowl of water. She went noiseless after that and grabbed her hands, playing with her fingers. I got up and sat on the comfortable bed. I deduced she was a magical woman because of the herbs she had on shelves, the aura was filled with a magical but fresh scent. Like mint or eucalyptus. She seemed shamed of that, i started denying with my head while looking at her.

"Why are you ashamed of your own powers?"

"it reminds me of a self i am not anymore"

"What? have you killed someone?"

"No" She denied with a firmly voice

"Cursed someone?"

"No." Again but with more doubt in her tone

"Enchanted someone?"

"No..." this time, she was more nostalgic.

"I see."

We stayed quiet for the rest of the seconds of my interview, after that she got up and asked me to follow her, so i did.

The lady took me to a stunning place, it was a garden in a greenhouse. You were able to see the outside, rainy and grey, but on the inside she had her own Spring. So green, it seemed like a tiny fairy garden. We sat on a table with two cups and a kettle. The butterflies and bees were the only ones along with us.

Even though she that all that pleasing place, she seemed sad or weak. Her eyes gave me a small bright while giving me the cup of tea.

"I am a Fertile Witch, i can use every type of life..." She told me while a butterfly flew to her hand and opened and closed her wings like doors.

"You created a great job here, I must say." I recognized that fact.

"I didn't created all this... My power lets me control or change life, but not create nor destroy. When I was young I enjoyed my magic a lot, until I found out I can't have everything I want. As I grew I started to understand that life needs to grow by itself, and nothing should interrupt or corrupt its development..."

"It's hard for a witch to live without using its magic. You must be really strong."

"When you force love, you suffer the blow of the dragon's tail. I couldn't live trying to get a man to love me, he has to come to me by his will, not mine."

She was deeply in love with a strong built man. When she tried to make him love her, the consequences were highly dangerous. Since then, the witch had never used her powers never again.

"You don't need to be prisoned so everyone can be free, darling." I told her that while giving a little laugh. As an old mage I have learnt a lot, she was just a girl in love who thought her powers were only to 'use' things. Her eyes dropped tiny tears over her cup of tea, although her mouth stretched giving a nice smile in her lips.

"Thanks"

[just-a-sleepy-idiot]

Valak Imagine: Him seeing you for the first time

Content/Warnings: Nun!Reader, Female!Reader, Blaspemic stuff since it's written out of a demons perspective after all, Based of the movie 'The Nun', Major Spoilers for the Nun!!, Kinda soft Valak

He had paced these holy halls so many times, disguised to sow fear in the nuns that lived here- showing them that evil was among them looking like one of their own. He mocked them with this form, and soon enough death had grasped all of them, all up to one last woman.

Valak wished to take over one of their bodies, but he couldn't deny the satisfaction when the last one chose to commit one of the worst sins the Bible knew, taking her life rather than letting him take over her mortal existence. He thought it was quite funny, to see one of gods devote believers choosing to do this to oppose a demon. He wondered which outcome would have taken on worse judgement- taking her own life or letting her precious little body get taken over by a demon?

He already waited, yearned for others to come which they eventually would. Toying with their sanity and their beliefs, he already felt the arrival of two devote believers coming close.

Eventually you were here- first a priest, and Valak could look deep into his heart and see his guilt haunting him, guilt that the demon would use to torment him later on- this priest and you.

You were wearing a dress, but you might as well have worn the white robes because you emitted something.. pure. No human was ever fully pure, not like they wanted to be, and you too had your yearnings and troubles of course but he saw purity because you were fully aware of them and faced yourself with clarity and judgement.

You weren't a blind follower of the book, driven by blindness, guilt or foolishness.

Valak huffed in contempt, instantly feeling how the opposing nature of his origin and your devotion was stirring up inside of him. Like magnets, wanting to draw each other away.

You stayed now for two nights, and he had already begun playing his schemes with the priest but you.. he still only.. watched. He still only observed you, and he wasn't sure why he was so hesitant.

You were only a mortal after all, you would tremble at the mere sight of him. He felt no fear, so maybe it was.. curiosity?

His demonic nature longed to corrupt you, to teach you fear and see you scream like the other nuns. He was the defiler, the profane, the Marquie of snakes. He wanted to mock and corrupt and watch the ones who serve god crumble in their beliefs.

So why did he keep his distance with you?

A few days went by, and both you and the priest slowly begun to understand what had happened here and how it was tied to the evil that was roaming this place.

Valak had shown you images of the nuns that lived here, and you were believing everything as if it was actually happening. He watched you interact with your environment and with the shadows of the ones that were gone already.

And one day he decided to show himself. Looking like the nun he chose to torment the others with but a little.. softer, a little bit more disarming. With features that he guessed would invoke trust from humans.

When he approached you, you felt someone looking at you without hearing a single step. When you turned around, you were met with green eyes and looked up to a tall nun. There was something strangely.. intense about her, yet you had a feeling like you could feel safe despite of that.

"How do you like it here so far?" How long has it been since he had used words of the human world..

"I like it a lot. I've been treated very well here, the only thing that worries me is the wellbeing of Father Burke. He had horrifying things happening to him."

Valak suppressed a smile, yes he did indeed. "I see."

He continued on talking to you, spying on what it was that a nun like you was thinking by conversing with you.

"Have you been taught about demons, Sister Y/n?"

This question.. had something off-putting, as if you felt like despite her calm and cool expression she was very interested in whatever you might say next.

"Of course, Sister Val." You fumbled with your hands, "Although none of my fellow sisters ever seemed to really take matters of evil very seriously." They concentrated so much on the good that they didn't seem to take the bad forces in the world seriously. They felt too secure.

Valak knew how easily everyone wanted to forget what was waiting outside of their churches, their holy little homes that they felt so safe in. "And what do you think of them?"

You looked up into the green eyes of the tall woman, frowning at that question. No one ever asked about.. an opinion of these things, because it was taught that everything unholy like the creatures of hell were bad and there was no other way to see them.

"The forces of god as well as those of evil are constantly opposing each other. They are bad, they are destructive and against every living being." Your gaze dropped, "But.. I think that is part of the balance, the way it naturally has to be. Of course we have to fight evil, but I don't think just like evil neither does good is supposed to win. And therefore demons are.. just like us," you looked up again and smiled shyly, "something like soldiers?"

Valak stared at you without saying a word.

Just like them?! No, no you were just a mortal, just a flesh puppet. He was above the pity skills of gods creation! There was no way you were alike.

How strange it was to be thinking that while he literally looked like one of them, using the human tongue to communicate and observing this woman instead of following the unholy urges of destruction that were given to his very existence.

And suddenly, you were pressed against the wall, held high up by the nun who's expression now cruelly turned into something demonic. You gasped, unable to look away as he growled darkly at you. He was done playing, he should just snap your neck right there.

But.. he didn't- he couldn't! The demon growled in frustration, harshly pressing you against the wall even more before suddenly letting you go.

"Your foolish beliefs will not earn his favor, little one. You should go back to blindly being his devoted sheep."

You hurried to stand up again, leaning against the wall for stability after your fall with rapid breathing. The green eyes now begun to glow, almost like gold, and Valak loomed over you.

"Leave, leave and send someone as blind as the others, you are not amusing anymore."

You begun to run, candles lit along your way and blew out after you passed. You looked back as you sprinted through the stone corridor and saw the outline of a horned figure watching you go.

You were carrying a forbidden truth with you, something that he did not wish to defy. He wanted you to live, he wanted this truth to blossom within you. Maybe it would corrupt you.. but maybe it would make you even surpass all the others.

Valak would find a way to cross paths with you again.

- - -

I hope you liked it! If you are offended by the religious stuff please know that this is based off a movie and what is written in here is fiction and not a reflection of my actual beliefs so pls don't rage in my comments

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Broken trust, pt.6/finale

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five 

Summary: Inside the fold, Y/N and the Darkling face off.

Warnings: angst, fluff sprinkled on top, indicating smut

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When she was a child, Y/N feared the darkness. Every night she would lay awake with a candle by her side, too scared to close her eyes. She feared the unspoken horrors that occurred under the cloak of darkness, of one day finding herself in peril as well. The fold fueled such fears, especially when the boys in the orphanage would speak of the Volcra. She had heard the descriptions, the vile appearances and inhuman deeds they’re capable of. They haunted her when she closed her eyes, wondering if that’s what killed her parents.

Y/N still fears the dark, just of a different kind.

She fears the darkness that resides in humans, the kind that’s lurking under the surface yet remains invisible to the naked eye. At any point, the darkness could surface and once it does, it would swallow anyone who stands in its way. Perhaps that’s where her trust issues stem from, the corruption of human hearts. People are wicked, using everything, even love, for their selfish desires.

In truth, she should have seen it before.

Aleksander Morozova should have been a clear danger for her heart right from the moment they met in that dark tent where she wondered how anyone could be comfortable in such an environment. A powerful, handsome man with a silver tongue and a weakness for her had seduced her by simply paying attention. He looked at her like no man ever before – like she was the only one for him, a source of eternal sunshine.

She shouldn’t have allowed herself to be deceived.

A woman with trust issues and a fear of darkness fell in love with a man who was darkness incarnated. He embodied all she dreaded and yet she couldn’t see beyond the mask of perfection he always kept in place. A part of her wondered if he ever showed who he truly is in those intimate moments they shared.

Throwing his head back, Aleksander laughed. His chest rose with a sharp intake of breath before it quaked with a new laugh erupting from deep inside.

“It’s not funny!” She pouted, trying to glare at him as if the sound of his laughter didn’t make her feel like she’s in a dream.

“You know I adore that pout”, Aleksander smirks, pinning her against the wall.

Breathless, her lips part just in time for Aleksander’s to take advantage. He gave a low, throaty chuckle once her knees turned to jelly and she collapsed against the strength of his arm behind her back. He bent, put his other arm beneath her knees. His mouth never leaves hers as he carries her to the bed. He abandoned her lips only to press them on her neck and she couldn’t believe how easily he swayed her.

Before long she could bear no more kissing. She ached all over and she pulled his hair to better meet his mouth. She fastened on his lips hungrily, greedily, ready to feel him inside her, around her, to completely numb her senses.

“Aren’t we eager today”, he teased her as he slowed down, determined to drawl out every moment he had with her.

“I can either be angry with you for laughing at me”, she trails off, her eyes flickering to his lips. “Or you can make me forget about the poor Grisha I flashed in your map room.”

Growling, he inhales sharply, “As amusing as it was to see you both scream, I prefer when you scream for me when we are alone.”

Rolling her eyes, she huffs, “I wanted to be spontaneous! How was I supposed to know someone else would be in the room?”

He picked up a lock of her hair from across her neck and held it up, letting the dim light of the fireplace play though the strands. He held it to his nose, then to his lips.

For the first time he could ever remember, he was completely content.

“What do you want us to do?” Ivan asks, finding the change in his general terrifying. He could see the Darkling is enraged, losing control and a Grisha powerful as he is could be lethal in such circumstances.

“You’ll do nothing”, Aleksander snapped as he mounted his horse. “I will go after her.”

He looks to his loyal Grisha with narrow eyes, aware he’ll return undoubtedly changed by whatever transpires inside the fold. Whether he returns with his Sun Summoner in hand or with her body in his arms, the Darkling would be different.

During his time with Y/N, Aleksander relied on her for happiness he long forgot about. He held onto her for as if she was all he had and she still abandoned him. They all do so once they see how far he’s ready to go in order to protect those he loves – his people….and her. He would have done anything for her.

This is his kingdom, but she’s not his queen anymore.

“We shall await for further instructions at the camp.”

Nodding, Aleksander turns away from them with a dark look on his face. For the first time since he created the fold, he will step inside and he didn’t know who would emerge victorious. If he dies, he won’t be around to care, but if she does? He was sure he will never be whole again.

He kissed the corner of her mouth boldly, waiting for a sign of resistance. Her hands pushed weakly against his shoulders but even at his slight touch, her eyes closed in surrender. 

Seeing her so, Aleksander smirked before he kissed her cheek, her ear lobe. Then, as she gasped for breath, his mouth came down on hers. His tongue sweetly touched the tip of hers and she drew back, startled. He smiled at her as if he understood how strange such affection is to her.

“Someone will see us”, she whines.

Shrugging, Aleksander’s smile grows wider, “Let them see.”

“Don’t you have a reputation of a hardass to preserve?” Her lips press into a thin line as her eyebrows rise, tantalizing him.

His eyes are nearly black as he pulls her to him again. He ran his tongue along her lips, touching the inner corners especially. She parted her teeth for him, desperate for a taste of him. He was better than the richest honey; hot and cold, soft and firm. She explored his mouth as he had explored hers, no longer shy or reserved with him.

Parting in desperate need of a proper breath, he looks at her rosy, swollen lips with complete resignation.

“My reputation means nothing to me when you’re with me. You are what I want my reputation to be.”

Panting, Y/N felt like her lungs would explode. She had been running from the edge of the fold, deep into the darkness she once feared. She ran because she wasn’t sure if Aleksander was furious enough to disregard his own safety by following her inside.

Lips quivering, she pulls out the flask Mal packed for her. Taking a sip, she frowns at the watered down taste of alcohol. She made it clear she wanted nothing but water, yet Mal disregarded her wish. Shaking her head, she smiles anyway. If Mal was with her, she’d thank him for the liquid courage. She’d have agreed to a bottle of whiskey now, lost in the dark.

Swept away in her thoughts, she gasps at the growling in the distance. Her heart nearly stops as a dark, looming shadow passes above her. She whips around as the growls come from behind her as well.

She passed sixteen markers, but she hoped to get to the eighteenth. She planned to get as close to the middle as humanly possible, but wasn’t this just it? If she kept going, nothing could guarantee her safety and she was deep enough inside the fold to at least try. 

Every night she laid awake in the past year was spent with her strengthening her light, her control. 

This was it – she could do it. 

She had to do it.

Releasing a shaky breath, Y/N folds her hands before her. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath as she parts her hands at the palms.

“I wouldn’t do that”, a painfully familiar voice sounds and her eyes open wide.

“Or you’ll kill me?” She laughs, unable to stop herself. It’s a laugh made from pure anxiety and hurt, one that made her feel like she’s mad. Her habit of laughing when she feels like she’s got nothing left to lose came rarely; the first time it happened was when she learned her parents have succumbed to the very fold she’s in now. She reckoned this would be the last time.

“I don’t want to but, if you do not submit to me –“, Aleksander starts, coming closer slowly as if she was a doe and he the hunter. Every sudden move could frighten her and he didn’t want to face what happens in that case.

“Kill me if you must but I will not submit to you, or any man who wears his crimes like crown jewels!”

Raising her voice had drawn the Volcra, the growling growing louder.

"Is it so wrong for me to want to save you?" Sniffling, Y/N swallows thickly. She couldn’t cry anymore, there were no tears left to cry. She’s dry, inside out. “Things could have been different, you know? You didn't have to fall so far.”

Lifting his chin, Aleksander took a step further in her direction. Catching the slightest shake of her head, he pauses, arms raised in mock surrender.

“You made me love you”, he speaks through gritted teeth, “To depend on you.” He clenches his jaw, his patience wearing thin. “Now you’re trying to take the last piece of my sanity with you.”

“You don’t have to do this”, she tries meekly, “We can still be magnificent. Be the man I fell in love with, please.”

“And then what? We’re supposed to play house while they’re killing our people?!” Aleksander spat, barely holding himself back. “They wouldn’t stop until they kill you right before me and any children we might have!”

Eyebrows knitted together, Y/N’s mouth opens at the words spoken. There was a moment when Y/N realized she’d misinterpreted her darling Darkling’s actions, his words, his expressions from the moment they met… as if he’d been speaking a language she couldn’t understand… that moment was the moment her heart broke…She could hardly speak in her shock when she learned he had lied to her, but this shockingly defining moment was much different than that first moment.

“Children”, she breathes out as a smile forms on her lips, one he found confusing.

All this time, Aleksander had been using the fold as a way to protect his people and yet, he failed to realize it is exactly what they need to destroy.

“We don’t need the fold”, her smile widens, “You are the fold, my darling Darkling and I am your Sun.” Her lips quiver, her entire body trembles and she still comes closer to him without fear. “With the two of us, we can create and destroy this fold anywhere in the world and today is our chance to demonstrate our power to all those who’d dare to defy us!”

Lips parting, he shakes his head. “What are you saying”, he sneers, still angry at her for defying him.

“I’m saying it doesn’t have to be one way or the other”, she chuckles in disbelief, “We can both destroy the fold and win this war. Every war.”

The growling is near, close enough for the hair to stand on the back of Y/N’s neck.

“Don’t”, he orders as her hands touch, “Don’t you dare!”

Shakily lifting her head, Y/N smiles, "I love you".

Before he has time to comprehend the weight of her words, his world was set aflame by a blinding light exploding all around him.

She screamed out as a bright light emerged from her entire being, enveloping her like a lover’s embrace. It is the kind of brightness that enchants the eyes to open all the wider as it warms the skin.

She never felt the warmth like this, not even when Aleksander’s lips gave her breath or when his arms gave her a reason to believe in him. This warmth is different, like the sun had incorporated itself into her soul and is finally shining through.

She looks to her hands, opening the fists that glow an ethereal light force she never experienced. Her light is like sunlight, it comes as woven strands, free and united, and flowing as it reveals and solidifies, making the world of nightmares around them into something so beautiful. 

Her eyes meet Aleksander’s dazed gaze, her smile wide but his lips are set in a firm line. 

She could feel her soul ripping as she pushed the light further from them, toward the edges. The pressure in her head grew, erasing the smile from her lips. Her legs barely kept her standing as she stumbles. She could feel a wet liquid running from her nose to her lips, the metallic taste making her eyes widen.

“You’ll kill yourself if you keep this up!” Aleksander shouts, trying to make her see sense but she shakes her head.

“I have to do this! For us!”

He could see a vein pulsating across her forehead, the blood gushing from her nose and it slowly became clear to him – he might not have been able to kill her, but seeing her like this convinced him he doesn’t have to. She’ll do it all on her own.

Reaching for her, his hands wrap around her wrists firmly. “I love you too”, he rests his forehead on hers, amplifying her power. He could feel her smile for a split second before she closed her eyes.

Gasping for air, she felt her insides burning and before she could stop herself, Y/N’s bloodcurdling scream echoed in the fold, effectively stopping his heart in fright.

As her scream dies down, Y/N goes limp in Aleksander’s arms.

Her light disappears, another one taking its place as he lowers to his knees, holding her close to him. Looking up, he almost cries as the blue skies above shine a light on his face. 

“You did it”, he croaks, shaking her slightly. “Solntse? Solnechnyy svet?!”

Unmoving, Y/N laid in his embrace as if she had simply fallen asleep, but Aleksander knew she was hanging by a thread.

“Lyubov’?” His voice breaks the self-imposed sternness, his fingers clutching the fabric of her kefta…He didn’t even realize she kept it. 

She must have put it on inside the fold, he realized.

Now, in the light of day, he finally saw the black kefta he ordered to be made for her – black with golden traces of the light she brought in his life. It was fitting she’d be given powers of light for she was the embodiment of lightning, illuminating stormy skies he couldn’t navigate through. Not on his own.

“Wake up”, he whispers. “I need you”, the raspiness of his voice and the cracks are enough testimony for the break inside his chest.

“I can’t survive without you”, he bowed his head down, a choked sob escaping him.

“I love you.” Aleksander whispered into her chest, breaking down when she didn’t say it back. Y/N always chose to say ‘I love you’ instead of goodbye, explaining goodbye was the last thing she ever wanted to tell him and he understood now. He never wanted to tell her goodbye, but maybe that’s necessary too. Maybe life is about learning a better way to say goodbye, learn to let go of the ones you love with nothing but love.

“Aleks”, she tries but the words are stuck in the back of her throat as her need to breathe becomes direr.

“Saints!” He presses his lips as he looks up at her, just as breathless as he was the day when he first saw her. “What can I do? Tell me how can I help you?!”

“All this time I’ve blamed you”, her hand rests upon his cheek, “For pulling me into the dark”, she pauses, “But I was wrong.” Wetting her lips, she manages a small smile, “It was me who brought out your dark side.”

She averts her gaze, hating the vulnerability in her voice as he takes her hand in his, inspecting the ring he gifted her with a crooked smile.

“None of it matters now”, he rests his forehead on hers, “I love you with all I am and I never want to feel like this again.”

“Look at me.” He’s not asking, rather demanding and she can feel the subtle difference just as she can feel his warm hand wrap around hers.

“Gladly”, she chuckles as he helps her sit. None of her hate for him remained. Love…hate, it was always a fine line to walk on and she finally settled on a side – his side.

Saying I love you is the bravest thing he has ever done in his life, for it took every ounce of strength and courage to openly expose his feelings to the love of his life, to put his heart on the line time and time again after all the times she walked away. He knew he didn’t deserve her as she’s always been too good for him, but he swore he’d spend the rest of his life building himself up to be the kind of man she’d be proud of.

“I love you”, he kisses the palm of her hand, giving her enough time to say it back.

“And I love you. I promise you, we will be unstoppable. Together, hand in hand, nothing will dare stand in our way.”

As soul meets soul in a lover’s kiss, the two embrace in the midst of a desert made of ruin they would find a way to rebuild. Their story is far from over, but this time around, they’ll write it together – as equal parts of a whole.

 Tags: @blackbirddaredevil23 @subjecta13-thefangirl @aquamariene-me​ @savannah-elliott @auggie2000 @daybleedsintonightfa11 

[intothehawkseyes]

"Let me show you some things" / (N.SFW) Mihawk and Fem!Reader

i wrote this overnight. well i have some one shots with mihawk to write (some are ongoing) so i will be posting here soon.

so for now i hope you like it =) and if you like it let me know if you want me to write more of this scenario

WARNINGS: smut, (kind of) dirty talk, vaginal fingerig, oral sex (reader receiving), (kind of) knife play, corruption kink (not sure about this kink tho)

(the same image of the other blog but it's ok)

tag: @portgaslari 🌸

It was late when you arrived on Kuraigana Island. You docked the boat and made your way to the castle entrance. As usual, everything was dark and you had to sharpen all five of your senses so you wouldn't bump into a wall or trip over something and cause yourself some injury.

You walked carefully through the corridors towards your room, and when you got there, you noticed that someone was standing by the door, as if waiting for you. With eyes accustomed to the pitch, you recognized the imposing silhouette of your landlord.

"Is this time to get home?" was the first thing you heard uttered by that deep sexy voice of his, leaving you with butterflies in your stomach.

"I had an autograph session and it delayed my return too much because there were twice as many people as we expected," you answered truthfully, not understanding why Mihawk was questioning the time you returned home, since it wasn't something extraordinary to happen.

And, he has never shown any interest in your life or in you. Even if you lived under the same roof, you paid for it. He charged you rent precisely because you had a successful career and were very well paid. You even complained about being charged at the time.

"You don't help on the farm and you rarely wash the dishes.. No one is here to serve you, you lazy little idol," he said at the time, as you lay on the couch waiting for your nail polish to dry.

"You don't charge Zoro and Perona!", you tried to argue, getting a look of contempt from him, which hurt your ego a little.

"They help me and also have nowhere to go, unlike you who only sleep or go out to parties and come back whenever you want. And when you're at home, you're just taking care of your appearance"

"It's still not fair! You know it's my appearance that pays my bills!" You pouted, in a failed attempt to change his mind, even though you knew he was adamant in the word.

"If you're not satisfied with my terms and conditions, you can leave," he said menacingly close to you, cupping your chin with his thumb and forefinger.

That said, he left you gaping behind, and humiliated too. But his touch still burned on your skin, reminding you why you came there of your own free-will.

Back in the present moment, a candle flame flickered at the end of the corridor precariously illuminating the entire length of it and reaching up to where he was, causing his eye color to take on a very surreal amber hue, making you fearful to look at them.

"And was that good, Lil Singer?" he asked in a distinct tone of voice that you didn't remember seeing him use on any occasion.

"It was tiring, I need a shower," you said, kind of trying to shake off his inquisitive gaze. In fact, you wanted to run away from there because just his presence completely baffled you. You were very well aware of the latent physical attraction you had for him, which was even the reason for you to open your wallet and deliver a sum of money into his hands every month so that you could stay there (and in his presence) for a while more, and also the growing passion that insisted on burning in your chest day after day.

And the new nickname he gave you only got worse, he just used to call you "Idol Girl", similar to the "Ghost Girl" he used to refer to Perona. Now he had spiced up what you really did, it wasn't something vague anymore like he didn't give a fuck to it. He really knew that you were a singer and not just someone frivolous who did cute poses in front of a camera as you were used to hearing from people who didn't know your work.

To your surprise, and also your despair, he reached a hand to the back of your head and ruffled your hair.

"Your hair is damp," and again he caught your lie.

You had actually showered before returning home. You went to the autograph session on an island close to where you lived, so it was a quick trip and there was a bathroom there, which made it a lot easier for you as all you wanted was to get home and go straight to sleep.

But Mihawk had other plans for you.

"You can't go three minutes without telling a lie, what a petulant, bad girl"

It was unintentional for you to have closed your eyes when you felt his fingers caress your cheek. The touch was warm, but the trail he left was hot as an ember. "So bad I would like to punish," he continued as he slid the digits to your lips.

Your heart was racing and your knees were starting to weaken. You feared losing your balance and falling, but you knew he wouldn't let it happen, and just the thought of him holding you around the waist made you want to test it. But you decided not to because you didn't want him to stop touching your skin.

"It's not intentional..." you said in a thin voice, still with your eyes closed.

"No? You always have these lips pulled back in a sarcastic smile, and these eyes that are now closed always glow with mischief," he rebutted you, pressing his fingers to your lips more.

You tried to control your breathing, but it became less and less possible with his dangerous approach. You couldn't see anything, but you felt the heat emanating from his body making you aware that he was getting closer and closer to you.

"I'm feeling you cornered... Where's that brave woman who always has a sharp answer on the tip of her tongue every time I say something? Or where did the one who doesn't miss an opportunity to tell me insinuating things go?", and he kept cornering you.

It was true that you flirted with him a lot, but it was because you felt you were not reciprocated. You always spoke loud and clear about how attractive you found him or that he was the only man who could do what he wanted with you, but it was because he never showed any sign that he liked the shit you said or cared about the suggestive things you said near his ear in the late afternoon while he was reading the newspaper and drinking wine.

However, you were surprised that he was reminding you of these things. And that was making you completely embarrassed and nervous, because it wasn't a lie at all what you said. You lied about silly things, but used irony and double meanings to tell the truth about your feelings for him.

You only managed to mutter a few unintelligible words.

"Open these eyes and face me, I want to know where all that courage is," he ordered, and you shivered.

Fearful, you opened your eyelids slightly and felt your blood run cold in your veins at the sight of him so close to you. It looked like everything had cleared, even though the lighting remained the same.

"...Mihawk..." was all you managed to say and you saw the moment his jaw locked and his eyes sparkled brightly.

"That's what I want to hear when I've put you in your place", he said before holding tight to your waist and making it stick to his strong body, you only had time to let out a moan and practically soften in his arms, letting him lead you into your room.

And he took you to your dressing table, where he left you leaning there.

Your room was lit by the light radiating from the chandeliers, so it was possible to see him better, but he was standing with his arms crossed in front of you, looking at you fully, from head to toe, which made you even more shy. His gaze was intimidating by nature, but unlike that usual coldness, they now glowed differently. Dracule Mihawk was in front of you looking at you with an expression of pure desire. He wanted you, it was almost palpable. You didn't know whether to feel ashamed or just play his game.

But you wanted him to lead you, so you just stayed in the same place, but straightened your posture, making your curves accentuate more.

And he approached you slowly until he was glued again.

"You look great in this dress, too bad I'll have to take it off to get access to what interests me," he whispered in your ear as his fingers found the side zipper of the garment you were wearing. You heard the sound of the zipper opening and shivered as the air found the skin that was previously guarded by the fabric. Afterwards, he slid the dress down your body, leaving you naked from the waist up. You shivered all over the hungry way he looked at your body. His eyes in the candlelight were almost orange, like lava.

He ran his tongue over his own lip to moisten it, without taking his eyes off your nudity. He seemed to wonder where to start.

"You're a virgin, aren't you?" he asked you after a moment of silence. "Answer the truth, because if you lie now you might regret it later. I'm not kidding."

You felt a new twist in your stomach and your panties were already heavy with soaking wet.

"Yes…" you replied as soon as you cleared your throat.

"I could imagine...", the shadow of a smile seemed to take his lips, but it disappeared quickly.

Even though you were thrown at him, no man had ever touched your body precisely because you didn't like the idea of having someone you didn't like touching you. And since you've liked Mihawk all along, you've actually spent the years wishing only he would touch your body. What went against your fame, because all men judged by the lyrics of your songs and your almost obscene choreography that you went out with anyone.

But Mihawk could read everything that was hidden. Unbeknownst to you, he had already picked up on your lack of experience, no matter how hard you tried to act like a sexually uninhibited woman.

"... Then I can't have you the way I want" he said with some regret in his voice. "But never mind, I'm in no hurry to taste you," he finished as he closed the tiny distance between the two of you, taking your lips in a thirsty kiss.

You tried to follow his rhythm, but it was difficult because there were so many sensations to pay attention to. He explored your mouth with thirst and sucked on your lips like they were the tastiest thing in the world. And during the kiss you were able to feel the effect you had on him by the erection against your belly and it made you even more horny.

The skin of his chest against your breasts was one more thing and made you moan against his mouth, making him squeeze your waist and lift you up to put you on the dresser. With one leg on either side of his waist, you felt his hard cock against the fabric of your panties, and you moaned harder.

When he ended the kiss, you could already feel your face burning and your lips swollen.

Your chest rose and fell unevenly as you tried to regulate your breathing, which made your breasts follow and then he took the opportunity to pay attention to them. Mihawk held them tightly with his hands and squeezed them lightly, then released them and played with the nipples, sending a rush of arousal between your legs and making you even wetter. You tilted your head back and involuntarily spread your legs further apart in clear invitation to him.

And he very willingly accepted. You had your eyes closed when you felt his fingers run over your pussy, over your panties, and you heard a grunt of satisfaction coming from him.

You were reveling in the feeling his fingers gave you until he called you by your name, which made you immediately look at him.

It was the first time he had treated you in such a personal and intimate way.

"Why are you with your eyes closed? I want you to be looking at me when I make you come," he was inquisitive.

And you obeyed.

He even played with your nipples a little while the fingers of his other hand threatened to penetrate the fabric of your panties and have direct contact with your wetness.

You moaned in frustration and moved your hips to get more in touch, almost asking him to touch you right away, but he held you firmly in place and gave you a reproachful look, which you understood you should wait his time if you didn't want to feel his wrath. Even though you really wanted him to punish you, you were afraid he'd just walk out of your room and leave you there, all confused and frustrated. So you stayed quiet.

And he was satisfied, and went back to what he was doing, but this time he tortured you more, just running his fingers over your groin, not even coming close to the pulse point and the hot, drenched entrance that begged for him.

But the feeling was good and it made you even more excited, but you couldn't contain the moan when you felt it under the fabric of your panties, his finger stopping right on top of your clit and pressing it, making you contract and bring your hand to the his strong arm where you scratched. And he really liked your reaction, as he simply pulled his finger away again to repeat the act, but this time making a second finger insinuate inside your pussy, but only passing through the wet entrance.

You only felt your toes tense when you felt them tingle, but it was impossible to keep all your nerves intact in the face of so many new sensations being presented to you.

But you moaned in frustration when Mihawk suddenly pulled away, not understanding anything. You looked at him questioningly, but he didn't say anything to you, he just removed the Kogatana from his neck, leaving you even more confused.

But you understood his intent when you saw him peel off the bottom of the piece, revealing the sharp blade.

"Do you like these panties?" he asked you when he was close to you again.

"No..." you replied in a whisper.

"Fine, this is in my way and I'll have to cut it," he replied as he slid the tip of the cool blade down the skin of your thigh until it reached your crotch and then met the fragile fabric of your panties, which in question seconds was nothing more than a shredded rag.

Now you were completely naked for him, and he sported an even hungrier look.

He left the small sharp object beside you before pulling away slightly from you, making you feel completely exposed and vulnerable to him.

You wanted to close your legs and cover your nakedness, but his longing eyes held you in place, holding you the same way he had left you.

And he continued looking at every bit of your body, enjoying everything that was being offered to him.

And when he came back between your legs, he gripped your thighs hard, digging his fingers painfully into your flesh, making you moan in pain and lust. You realized that this gesture was his attempt to control himself, because now his eyes were glowing furiously, he looked like an untamed beast and you felt a wave of heat come over your body as you realized that only you naked had been able to make him like that. You hadn't even left the place or done anything significant to get him in that way.

You really enjoyed knowing you had as much effect on him as he did on you.

"If you knew what's on my mind right now, you'd run out of here and never come back, woman," he finally said in a husky voice in your ear, almost menacing. But fear was all you didn't feel. And in an act of courage and even stupidity you provoked the beast even more.

"I'm here for you to do whatever you want with me."

You saw him take a deep breath and close his eyes for the first time, trying to seek rationality.

"Once I've fucked you the way I want, I'll have no mercy," he promised and you shivered. You knew he was a man of his word. "But for now I'm going to take it easy so I don't scare you, although I know it's going to be hard to hold back so I don't lose control and end up hurting you," he said and ran his fingers over your lips after letting go of your thighs. And the spot where he squeezed burned, you knew it would form bruises there.

He kissed you again slowly, even though you felt him hold back. And during the kiss he walked with his hands all over your body until he passed his hands on your thigh, very close to your wet cunt, where he slipped a finger inside with ease and you moaned when you felt him deep inside you. At first he left his finger still there as he enjoyed the sweet taste of your lips, but without warning he started moving his finger inside you, as if he were trying to pull something out and you twitched against him. But he didn't mind and inserted a second finger, leaving a slight burning sensation, but it soon faded and made you moan louder. Now with two fingers inside you, he started the in and out movements, causing an erotic sound due to the humidity. You moaned against the kiss and he swallowed all your moans and made you make even more noise when he squeezed your left breast with your free hand, making circles with your fingertip around the areola, sending you more loads of excitement into your clit and making you almost close your legs, just sticking them with his hips.

His finger movements began to increase and the thrusts got firmer and stronger, hitting you deep and eliciting more moans.

When you thought you couldn't get any more turned on, he used his thumb to tease your clit which made you part your lips to let out a loud moan and arch your back and your breasts get even closer to his face. You knew he wouldn't like that under any other circumstance, but as you exposed the pretty bust, he didn't mind and simply accepted the invitation, burying his face in the valley between your breasts and reveling in the gift. He sucked and bit down on everything in front of him, turning you into a mess of moans and pleas.

He turned his eyes to you and liked what he saw, you completely surrendered to him was all he needed to feel his erection ache inside his pants. But he couldn't do anything about it, as for now he could only feel you with his fingers and his mouth.

When your first orgasm came, he was sucking on your neck and working his fingerprint on your clit and his fingers deep inside you, curling at the tips and scraping the spongy wet wall. You shivered and moaned loudly as you called his name, making him smile with satisfaction.

You were a good girl, after all, and that deserved an award – but you didn't need to know you were being awarded.

He withdrew his fingers from inside you, unglued his lips from your neck and was running his nose over your entire body, enjoying the wonderful smell that exhaled from you, until he reached that area that throbbed with recent orgasms. And without waiting for the spasm to pass, he ran his tongue across the area, making you gasp and bring your hands to his hair, pulling it hard. He grunted in response and reciprocated by sticking his tongue in your entrance to sip everything you had to offer. He stayed there for some time before returning to the clitoris where he stimulated it with the muscle more times to make you come over and over again. When you couldn't take it anymore and couldn't even pronounce his name correctly, he dropped you and stood in front of you, running his fingers through the welts you had left on his neck the times you scratched him in yet another orgasm .

You even feared he would do something about it, but you were surprised with him picking you up gently and taking you to the bed where he laid you gently.

"Now sleep well," was the only thing he said before heading to the dressing table to pick up the Kogatana and put it back around his neck.

"And you? Let me make you come too," you asked, already getting up.

"No," his tone stopped you. "You're going to make me come, yes, but not today. That was just the beginning, and I'll come to collect you for the debt you acquired from me", and with that, he walked towards the door where he left and closed it, without saying goodbye .

You kept looking at the place, now the morning light was already illuminating the room better, when you heard the familiar voice of the other resident of the castle.

"What were you doing in her room?" Perona asked, but you didn't hear an answer from him. "Hey! I asked you a question!" and nothing again. And then you only heard her mumble that she would ask you later what had happened.

After that, everything was absolutely silent, except in your head that was noisy due to what had just happened and now that you realized that you were fucked by the fingers of Dracule Mihawk running the risk of being caught by Perona or Zoro since the door was open all the time.

[thetitans-stories]

As a magehunter in the 7 realms, she was one of the best. Tracking had been her expertise since childhood. These foul mages and their spells she tracked and killed had no business existing in a world of technology. True, every magehunter had to have some magic in them, or tracking anything magical would be pointless, but she and her friends used their magic to exterminate it.

She sensed this mage three days ago, following had been a bit more difficult than her usual targets, so she was being extra careful. Not careful enough to have backup, she liked to hunt alone. Coming up to a grove, she stopped behind a tree.

There was something in that grove, on the ground, not moving. Humanoid shape. Just the tiniest hint of magic. She recognized the cloak above it as something mages used to block their magics from being traceable. Made sense, but why was he on the ground like that?

Carefully, with her gun drawn and aimed, she moved closer and closer, alert to any magical shenanigan. Which is why she failed to see the perfectly normal net trap underneath the leaves she stepped on. A second later, she was dangling five feet into the air as the trap closed on her, flinging her up. Her gun flying out of her hand in shock, it clattered onto the ground.

Desperately trying to get herself out of the trap, she could hear the mage chuckle behind her. Before she could even plead, or even speak, she felt his powers surge through her, abusing her own magics, corrupting her very body. It did not take long for her to pass out.

Waking up, she tried to look around. She tried to move. She tried to speak. She failed all of them. She screamed inside her own mind, being trapped inside her own body like this.

Then, her body did move. But it was not responding to her commands. The body moved fast, but without running. The air against her skin, her long hair fluttering in the wind and even against her wings told her way too much for her liking of how much her body had been changed already.

She was wandering through a cave system of some sort. No idea were, she kept screaming at her body to stop, trying every trick within her knowledge. To no avail.

She reached a candle lit chamber, where the mage sat reading. Without even being able to stop herself, her mouth said “Master. The soul within me has awoken. I have come to you as per your command.”

She wanted to vomit as soon as the word “Master” escaped her lips. But all she could do was stare.

“Very good slave. Go and stand in front of the mirror. I want that soul to get a good long last look at herself.”

As her body responded, she couldn’t even keep her eyes closed, being forced to watch what her body had become. It wasn’t until she saw her eyes that she got even more strength to attempt to punch her way out of her mental prison. Those eyes. It must have been due to an orb of distortion. It was the only reasonable explanation for her current condition, and if the legends were true, the fact she was still with her own mind was a major surprise.

The orb of distortion could not just magically change someone. It distorted them out of their own reality, but had to be replaced with something else of similar size. Exactly what was entirely up to the holders thoughts.

She screamed loudly again within her mind prison. This time out of fear, as the mage produced said orb from his robe. Holding it in front of her eyes, she had no choice but to stare into it. Into its purple light. Into its magnificence. Into it…..

“Master. The previous soul inhabiting this body is now permanently gone. Thank you, Master.” slave stood still, not moving an inch.

The Master touched her left shoulder and a shudder coursed through her body as a small orgasm rocked her body, she quivered almost unnoticeable.

“Master. What is your command?”

And he told her.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Now dear, you don’t need to worry anymore. The Master has instructed me to transform all the former so called *magehunters* into his obedient slaves. My knowledge of you is impeccable, thanks to this slaves former existence.” “You can not move, nor speak because I willed it to be. Now, lets see what other kind of entity I can change you into. Just look into the orb, and everything will be fine. Everything will be…………..”

[dreaminpetals]

Yoooo can I get some norton sfw and nsfw headcanons 😳 your writing is top tier btw !!!!!

⛏ norton hcs ー sfw & nsfw . . .

art credit

SFW ;;

♡ norton deals with frequent mood swings, hallucinations, and intense survivor's guilt, so he had cold feet about relationships for a long time. he views himself as a burden and stain on society, he doesn't want to put anyone through the misery of dating him.

♡ if he had a partner all he'd do was hurt them, norton thought. he'd try to rescue them during a game but accidentally maim them, or lash out at them during a fit of uncontrollable rage and scar them forever.

♡ when he began to develop a crush on you, he was even more gloomy than usual. he cancelled plans with you, walked away the moment you sat down beside him, and refused to heal you even if you were standing in front of him and the hunter was far away.

♡ it was your compassion that made him fall. hard. although you didn't speak much, you always went out of your way to help norton and offered an ear if he needed to vent rather than being scared and fleeing.

♡ he thought that if he made you hate him then his feelings would go away, but it only made you more determined to support the crumbling man who had your heart.

♡ every time he thought about holding you, he would be plagued with visions of him hurting you right after. sometimes he would burst into tears when he met your gaze because he couldn't stop thinking about you dying like his coworkers.

♡ it took weeks of nonstop affection to convince him that you'd be safe with him and that you'd love him no matter what.

♡ he wanted to be as close to you as possible to keep you out of harm's reach, but he also didn't want to be near you in case he hurt you.

♡ your love was like magnets. he pushed you away, pulled you closer, pushed you away, pulled you closer.

♡ the best s/o he could ask for would he a levelheaded and understanding one, if you were calm and nurturing (but not overbearing) then he could have someone to pull him out of his fits of catatonia AND calm him down when he was blazing with fury.

♡ norton's rage would never be directed at you, it was always himself or anyone who posed a threat to you.

♡ he'd give hunters tons of shit for even daring to lay a finger on you. he didn't care if hastur was a god and norton was a man, he was going to calamari that bastard for letting you bleed out.

♡ huge fear of abandonment. he needs constant reassurance that you aren't complaining about him behind his back or planning to pack your bags and leave.

♡ when norton is in a good mood, he can't keep his hands to himself and acts so smug.

♡ you want to keep him in his sleazy money hungry moods for as long as you can, you insist on gifting him with stunning gems or interestingly shaped rocks just to see his face light up.

♡ he gets frustrated and genuinely upset when you tease him or don't give him what he wants but when it comes to teasing you? norton is the most mischievous man you've had the experience of meeting.

♡ he uses the height difference between you to his advantage, if you have a hat he can and will hold it above your head and chuckle as you try to reach for it.

♡ give him sweet food!!! he may not look like it, but pastries and candy remind norton of his childhood and have a calming effect on him. for every donut you donate to him, he'll kiss you in any spot of your choice.

♡ if he has a game on golden cave you'll volunteer to play it for him, he can't handle the claustrophobia and flashbacks he gets when he has games there. he appreciates it so much.

♡ favourite cuddling position is laying on his back with you resting on his stomach or under his arm with your hair splayed on his chest.

♡ burns everything he touches but will still cook and bake for you!!! maybe you should give him lessons?

♡ never knows how to ask to vent. he lets you know by talking to himself, saying "i killed them", that's when you drop what you're doing and console him.

♡ he wishes that he embraced love earlier, nightmares and hallucinations are easier to handle when he has someone clenching his hand and running their palm along his hair to calm him down and remind him it's not real. the voices that asked norton "why did you kill me?" are replaced by his lover cooing "norton baby, it's not real, you're safe in your bed, i love you so much dear" in his ear. he feels like he can handle anything with you by his side.

NSFW ;;

♡ like his moods, norton's behaviour in bed changes like the weather.

♡ norton is a fan of slow, intimate sex where nothing exists except you two. when you can mumble that you're hopelessly in love with him as you give light strokes to his cock, each lick worth a thousand words.

♡ other times, norton is brutally rough and you have to use a safeword with him.

♡ on bad days he'll enjoy humiliation or degradation, by having you beg for him or be called filthy names it reassures him that you aren't plotting to abandon him if you're doing all this embarrassing stuff.

♡ when he tops, he prefers to fuck you from behind and grip your hips until his nails like talons leave a mark, drawing blood. he can't control himself when he sees you submitting yourself to him and spanks you.

♡ holds you no matter what, when he wraps his arms around your belly as his hips snap into yours from behind he feels like he's protecting you.

♡ likely has a breeding kink as well, he wants to cum inside of you as deep as he possibly can and never pull out.

♡ he has such a thing for your hands ー their softness, their size, how your nails feel when they scratch his back, how you play with his hair... he wants those same hands to turn his cock into a red, leaking mess.

♡ candles. norton would use candles to set the mood and lighten the room so he could look at you better, but he would also enjoy watching (safe) wax trickle onto your skin.

♡ especially if you already have cum on you, he'd rub it in with his hands until they stuck to your body.

♡ something about the smell and the mess of it all drives him wild. the fact you're willingly letting him corrupt you like this is enough to make him cream in his pants.

♡ obsessed with claiming you, he would mark you up from head to toe and have you promise you wouldn't leave him while his teeth sunk into your skin.

♡ pulls your hair so hard that some chunks have accidentally come out... in the moment norton growls and fucks you harder when it happens, but once he cools down, he feels awful and wants to give you a massage.

♡ the heavy breathing and strings of curses that fall from his lips make your legs weak, his voice sounds huskier and more primal during sex.

♡ when he eats you out or blows you he digs his nails into your thighs and doesn't let go until you've cum at least twice, the unmistakable scratch marks left on your thighs leave him ravenous.

♡ norton doesn't like when you make references to past sex when he's in one of his happy moods, it's so embarrassing for him. but when he's in a teasing, possessive mood? the same room you mentioned it in would be the same room he jackhammers you in. even if there's other people, he'll find something to stand behind and act like he's fixing your outfit for you... don't try to tease norton when he's horny because he does Not show mercy.

[yandere-daydreams]

Kinktober - Day Twenty-Four

Prompt: Corruption

Pairing: Diavolo/Reader & Simeon/Reader (Obey Me)

TW: Dub-Con, F.Reader, Oral Sex, Implied Gaslighting, Religious Themes, and Coercion. 

You’ve been having the strangest dreams, lately.

They always started in your room, or… what presented itself as your room, rather. It was filled with your books and your clothes and all the things you’d expect to see in the place you dwelled most often, but the bed was too big to be yours, the sheets silken instead of stiff cotton. The ceiling was always just a little too high, every candle always lit, and most jarringly of all, your window was always open, a mistake you’d never make in the dead of winter. When you woke up, you’d wonder if the rest of your home had been replicated, if the pages of your novels would be blank if you tried to read them, but nothing that lucid ever occurred to your sleeping mind. On a good night, you’d simply feel tired, hazy, as you would after burning incense, but on some, you could hardly will your body to move at all. As if you’d knocked over your alter completely, and been left to suffocate on the resulting smoke.

That was alright, though. You rarely had the opportunity to move, regardless of whether or not you could.

Simeon and Diavolo made sure of that.

Diavolo, moreso than his companion. Even in his lap, his bare chest pressed to your back and his breath ghosting over your neck, he felt the need to keep a palm pressed against your thigh, hiking your nightgown up to your waist and nudging your legs apart, encouraging you to keep them spread and give his companion space to fill. You didn’t know why he felt he had to touch you. His form eclipsed your own, and even if it didn’t, he had this authoritative aire to him, an aura that always made you hesitate to complain when his tone dipped into anything below jovial. You would’ve done anything he asked of you, regardless of how filthy it made you feel.

Simeon was easier to handle, in comparison, less imposing that his peer. His eyes were softer, contemplative but not calculating, and he had a way of making you feel privileged, making you feel pious. Your head was still full of nothing, your joints rigid and your limbs heavy, but your heart beat a little faster when he smiled, his expression all gentleness and care and ethereal perfection. He must’ve noticed your sudden attentiveness, the flush that rose to your cheeks as your mattress dipped under his weight and he settled in front of you, because when he broke the silence, he did so intimately. Indulgently, you’d say, if everything he did wasn’t so angelic. “My little lamb,” He cooed, the words falling somewhere between praising and patronizing. A mixture of sweet and sickening that you couldn’t help but lull into. “Have we kept you waiting?”

You weren’t sure how to answer. Part of you didn’t want to answer, not really, not when you knew there’d be no way to scavenge your pride, if you did. Agreeing would be an admission of guilt, an admission of sin, but trying to deny your eagerness would only make you sound childish. You opened your mouth, but Diavolo was faster than you were, his lips pressing into the side of your neck as he spoke. “Don’t put pressure on the poor girl.” His voice was muffled by your skin, the reverberation forcing you to shudder. “She’s still trying to play innocent, Simeon, just like you. Imagine how shameful it must feel, to be caught in her position.”

That caught your interest, if only for what it implied. “Am I… You think I’m shameful?”

At that, Simeon’s simper turned into a small pout. He took his time, reaching up to cradle your chin and tilt your head back, the pad of his thumb running over your cheek as he met your eyes. There was always an underlying hint of competition between the two, subtle but apparent to anyone who had to look as closely as you did, and there was no time it was more on-display than when Simeon infringed on territory Diavolo considered his. Already, he was baring his teeth, but if Simeon noticed, he didn’t seem to care. “Of course not, dear. There’s nothing immoral about holy love, and that’s exactly what the two of us have.” His gaze shifted, flickering past you. “Our guest, on the other hand--”

Simeon didn’t get a chance to finish. Before he could, Diavolo’s hand was in his hair, clamping down around his scalp and jerking him downward, pressing Simeon’s face into your cunt so quickly and so suddenly, you didn’t process that either of them had moved - you couldn’t, not until you felt Simeon’s mouth cup your sex, his form relaxing as he caught-on to Diavolo’s intentions. It was abrupt, and so was the pleasure, a sharp heat that shot your core and made it impossible not to lurch forward as Simeon braced himself on your hips, nails digging into tender flesh, forcing you to focus on the felling of his tongue tracing patterns into your pussy, all planned, all careful, meant to make you writhe and squirm and buck against him, even when you knew you shouldn’t be enjoying this.

By way of reward, Diavolo took to carding through Simeon’s hair, petting him like a favored creature as Simeon worked. “He talks too much, doesn’t he? Men so righteous always do.” There was a hum on his part, a stifled moan on yours, and slowly, casually, Diavolo allowed his unoccupied hand to find the collar of your gown, the thin fabric disregarded with a tug and a pointed, deafening tear. Simeon was skilled in his own right, noting your reactions and devoting himself to your pleasure, but Diavolo rarely proceeded with that much caution. It shouldn’t have felt good, as he groped at your chest, nimble fingers pinching at your nipples while his careless mouth found your neck, searching for sensitive areas and abusing them, once he found what he was looking for. Compared to Simeon’s kitten licks, the delicate way his tongue curled inside of you, it was nearly too much. The feeling of his spit on your skin, of your own blood dripping down your chest whenever he bit down, it was--

It wasn’t enough.

You let out a whine, the noise pitchy, needy, and Diavolo laughed, only drawing away slightly to push a light, chaste kiss into the corner of your mouth. It was condescending, it was meant to make you feel small, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, not as he pulled you closer, not as Simeon groaned and encouraged you to grind against him, to chase after what you wanted, rather than what either man was willing to give. “Is someone getting impatient?” Diavolo asked, the question cocky, mocking. “I suppose Simeon may be right. Perhaps we have been neglecting our precious mortal, after all.” He paused, letting out a faux-sigh. Not for the first time, you wondered if you’d ever truly know what went on inside his mind. “Do you want something more, princess?”

You did. You wanted more, you wanted so much more, but at the same time, you couldn’t stand the thought of accepting it. This was wrong, this was bad, this was sinful. It was sinful, even in a dream, even if you knew you’d beg for redemption the moment you awoken. You shouldn’t want this. You shouldn’t, but you did.

You wanted it more than you’d ever wanted anything.

Your voice shook, your tone meek, reluctant. Still, you could feel Diavolo grin, his hand trailing downward, meant to either aid Simeon or replace him completely. He didn’t seem to care. Pulling away, Simeon sent you another smile, beaming and proud, as if he could still sway your mind.

As if you didn’t know you’d been damned since the moment they put their hands on you.

“Yes, please.”

[bokutoslittlebird]

Love Potion + Bailey’s Irish Cream, Fireball + ice

Includes — Akaashi Keiji

Warnings: Corruption, Father!Akaashi [not incest], noncon/dubcon, non-consensual touching, virgin!reader, virgin kink, defiling the altar, branding with a crucifix, Akaashi sticks it in dry, hand in mouth (don’t know what to call that lmao)

You were always so beautiful when you were kneeling upon your knees.

Devoting yourself to the church and the man who spoke the truth about Catholic views and spread blessing throughout each member of the church, he couldn’t do anything wrong. Father Keiji was the man who gave you a place to stay, a place to give your faith to. He was always there when you had a hard time, as if God himself was sending one of His personal angels to guide you. Yes, to you, Keiji was nothing less than an angel, as he was perfect in each and every way to you — no mere human mortal could be so beautiful and flawless.

Deep down, you worried if that view tainted what he really was. The accidental touching, ghosting touches against your back and his cold hands against your neck, felt through the fabric of your outfit. His attention was much heavier on you, eyes always looking your way and it felt so intense, like you were under his thumb, ready to bow to his whim. Now, you knew that view you had of him tainted what he really was. He was the Devil in disguise and God was no longer there for you.

You wondered if He had ever been there.

Bare back against the wooden surface, only a cloth keeping you from being flush against it. With Father Keiji right in front of you, hands spreading your legs, you couldn’t find any reason God would have left you behind in His godly blessing. Cool fingers ran across your hot skin, untouched and untainted until this very moment, shivers and goosebumps as he dared to touch where no man had ever done before. His stoic face now had a mischievous smirk, as if he finally had you where he wanted you. Naked upon the altar, defiling you in a sacred place you had pledged loyalty and stayed innocent and true, only to be betrayed by the man you trusted.

The church is empty, save for you two, as the candle flame flickers and adds light to your bare skin, shimmering with a sheen of sweat as your awaited the demise you had been forced into. Keiji brought your leg up to his shoulder, his robes shed and crumpled against the floor as his bare skin was pressed to yours. Soft kisses were pressed into the flesh, eyes asking to trust him once more as if he had not already shattered the trust you gave to him. “I’ve been waiting for this day. When I could make you completely mine,”

“Keiji.. Why do you do this?” the voice from you is not one you recognize — it’s full of fear and hopelessness. Tears run down your cheeks, hot and wet, but he leans down until his face is over yours, tongue lapping at the salty trails and beads.

“Why, you ask? My dear, I simply enjoy the look and feel of innocence under my touch. I’ll make you mine and you’ll be just like the rest,” he murmurs, a terrifying grin as his hand goes to grasp the crucifix positioned beside you. A horrified gasp leaves your lips as he breaks off the miniature statue of Jesus, leaving the metal cross only. Using something to prevent his hand from burning, he holds the broken crucifix over the lit candle as his other arm holds you down, your naïveté and innocence not as deep as he thought. Holding you down tight, he heated up the cool metal until you could practically feel the searing metal, even before it was above your skin. When it was, however, Keiji held your leg down as he grinned at you. “Now, you’re mine.

The burning of your skin was so much more painful that you expected it to be, flesh being stripped off and a permanent mark branded in its place. Your screams echoed off the walls of the church, but no one would hear the cries and nobody, not even God Himself, would come to save you for the torture and suffering you’ll undergo at the hands of the beast of a man before you.

When the crucifix fell away, your screamed for another reason. His cold hands and cool touch were no longer as such, much warmer as his fingertips pressed into the delicate skin. His cock had entered you forcefully, a new burning sensation and stinging pain in a different place as your hands found themselves trying to push him away. “You’ve already been tainted, might as well enjoy the ride. I’ll make you reach the Heaven you’ll never get to see. God doesn’t exist. Only me.”

More cries and pleas of him to stop, yet he doesn’t. Your skin is burning, you’re covered in sweat, and the space between your legs is being defiled by someone who haven’t pledged your life to. Although his words ring true, you can’t find it in yourself to let go. Nothing is done, yet, you’ll still be able to pray for forgiveness, but Keiji has other intentions as he continues to thrust his cock into you. One hand covers your mouth, sliding into it and pressing against your tongue, the nerves tasting the metal of his rings and the saltiness of his sweat. It prevents anymore loud noises from leaving your lips, hands bunching into fists as you silently cry for everything to be over.

Pleasure rips through you, the sensation of something coming as Keiji continue to fuck himself into you. It’s a disgusting feeling, but it feels so heavenly, you finally let go and give in to the feeling, Keiji letting out a small laugh as he comes upon his own pleasureful release. He may be a fiend, but he’d never leave you unsatisfied. His hand leaves your mouth, saliva strands connected as those saliva-coated fingers press onto your clit.

A sensation you’ve never even dreamed of washes over you, pleasure rippling through your body as your toes curl and your head is thrown back. Candlelight flickers and illuminates the face of Virgin Mary, the flame casting a shadow that looks as though you’re being judged under her gaze. Sickening pain settles into your gut, tears spilling out as you find Keiji stopping his thrusting, hot liquid spilling into your deepest insides. Eyes close, turning from the judgmental gaze and focusing on the man inside and above you, his lips pressed against your neck where your rosary once laid.

You thought Father Keiji would never lie or hurt you, but you soon found how wrong you could be. This was your fault.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝒟𝒶𝓃𝒸𝓮 𝒪𝒻 𝒯𝒽𝓮 𝒟𝒶𝓂𝓃𝓮𝒹 (𝓓𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓷!𝒮𝒶𝓃) 𝓡𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝐷𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑛! 𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑖 𝑆𝑎𝑛 (𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧)/ 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 (𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒)

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝑆𝑚𝑢𝑡, 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡, 𝐹𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑦/𝐷𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑛 𝐴𝑈

"𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒂 𝒉𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒆...

𝑫𝒆𝒇𝒚 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕’𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒚, 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒆𝒓𝒔

𝑫𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍’𝒔 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒓𝒔.."

-𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒄𝒂𝒃𝒓𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆: 𝑷𝒐𝒆𝒎𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑯𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑮𝒐𝒓𝒆

𝑹𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝑴𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒄

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

The young raven haired man strolled through the crowds of other guests, taking a glance or two whenever something seemed to catch his eyes. But those glances were only fleeting. There seemed to be nothing particularly interesting in any of them.

He took in the scene before him: long, glittering ball gowns spun around, either in tune to the orchestra playing or in a presumptuous effort to be shown off to others. The male specimen differed no greater than their female counterparts, often standing up straighter or running a hand down their expensive and delicately tailored suits, except they were willing to take it a step further and actually discuss how much they paid for it.

Foolish mortals

He scoffed as he studied each one of them. It was truly sickening to him how much humanity had reached its lowest point. More frequently than not, he noticed how humans more than ever were vain, prideful, arrogant, egotistic and disdainful of anything or anyone who wasn't them.

It wasn't entertaining anymore. He recalls a time many centuries ago when he would get a thrill out of corrupting the innocent, driving the wisest of beings into insanity, destroying picture perfect marriages and making the purest of souls fall into an abyss of sin and darkness.

What was the point of trying to do all that now when some of them are destined for destruction since the moment of their birth? It truly irritated him.

Sighing he picked up a glass of wine from one of the trays carried around by the many butlers, poor useless souls as he liked to refer to them. He sipped on the crimson liquid, it's alcoholic venom doing nothing to him even though it was probably his 13th one already.

13? Was it?

He lost count. He shrugged it off though. He could drink it as if it were pure water, his kind were immune to this substance unlike humanity.

He snorted when he'd look at certain people's masks. While most went all fancy and elegant, others decided to have fun and make sure their attire stood out, in the form of red or black masks, adorned with either fangs, horns and overall rather gruesome or grotesque visages. Clearly they were meant to represent none other than his fellow kindred. He scoffed at their personification of him.

"Damnable bastards. If only you knew we are some of the most beautiful creatures to walk next to you....."

Perhaps that's the main reason why they all, man or woman, no matter their age, education or social status, end up ensnared by them. They were irresistible.

He was about to walk out of the hall, bored out of his non-existent soul, when a small titter caught his ears. Turning his face towards the sound, his breath was caught at the sight of an ethereal looking woman. His eyes scanned her from head to toe. She was absolutely perfect: from her luscious (enter color) hair, to her satin smooth skin, all the way down the her tempting figure. Her scarlet colored dress was impeccably on her, the deep plunge in the chest decorated with sequins and rhinestones daring men to not gaze at her cleavage. The waistline was fitted and then fanned out to accentuate her captivating body. Anyone would think this lady was sin itself, she certainly looked the part.

But San knew better. He could see and feel the aura around her. She was wholly pure, absolutely nothing to signify that she'd been stained or deemed unclean. She was simply an overly sheltered girl who no doubt wanted to fit in, be regarded as a mundane person like the rest of them.

Absolutely perfect if you asked him.

He sauntered in her direction, his devilish smirk plastered on his face. Sensing a pair of eyes, she tilted her head and made contact with the demon, now unable to look away from his alluring gaze. Even through the mask covering half of his face, she knew he was the most handsome man she'd ever see, albeit she'd never seen a lot of men in her life anyway.

Inexperienced and naive as she was, she let him stand next to her and take her hand. Lifting it up to his lips, he introduced himself:

"Choi San. Pleased to make your acquaintance my fair lady."

Delicately, he placed a kiss to her fingers, before releasing them from his hold. His touch was cold, but it sent a burning sensation up her entire arm and she found herself longing for his touch again almost instantly.

"L/N Y/N..." She replied in a voice that was merely above a whisper.

"A truly befitting name for such an angelic lady."

He chuckled to himself at his use of the word. If he was successful, which he always was, by the end of the night, there'd be nothing angelic left about her.

He extended his arm out towards her.

"May I have the pleasure of requesting the next dance?"

He made it a point to flash his dimples, knowing they only added to his charm and rendered women unable to refuse him. She stood up and linked her arm in his. He felt a shiver when she touched him, a feeling he only felt when his kind were in the proximity of a pure soul. It was precisely what he'd been craving for who knows how long. Definitely more than a hundred years since the last time he felt such a presence.

He guided her to the dance floor, the other couples already in position. If there was anything San prided himself on, it was his dancing. He's had years of experience to learn almost every dance that had been created, not only because it added to his attractiveness, but because it truly was one of the few mundane things he thoroughly enjoyed.

He especially loved the waltz they were currently playing. Waltzes were so elegant, refined, polished and were perfect when seducing someone. Intense eye contact, hands intertwined and his arm pulling her close to him, he could see a glimpse of the light blush peeking out underneath her ebony mask. She was flustered, exactly how he wanted her. They were practically gliding across the dance floor, perfectly in tune with the music playing.

"Did you come alone?" San decided it was time to strike up a conversation before going for the kill.

Y/N simply nodded, looking down somewhat ashamed. Instantly he knew she was probably not supposed to be here in the first place.

Interesting detail.

"Tired of sitting at home all bored?" He raised an eyebrow at her, but already knowing the answer.

"Can you tell?" She asked, wondering if he could read her mind.

"Well..... I can tell a lot of things about you..."

Releasing his hold on her waist, he lifted his hand to spin her around before bringing her back into his embrace, now closer than before.

"Things like what?" She wanted him to elaborate.

He hummed along to the music, making her impatient for his answer.

"Like..... how you want something exciting to happen tonight. Your eyes are practically for something, anything, that contrasts the dull life you've lived so far..."

She widened her eyes when he spoke those words. Was she that easy to read? That a mere stranger could notice that about her?

"And your countenance only serves to confirm my theory." He finished.

She sighed softly and loosened her grip on him, wanting to walk away, but he only tightened his hold on her. He smirked at her and leaned in, whispering dangerously close to her lips:

"Why don't you let me open up a new world for you?"

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

The girl fluttered her eyes open, soft blissful pants escaping her lips. It had been a while since they left the mansion, where San took her to what she assumed was his place. Ruby red walls with matching velvet carpet, umber brown furniture, candles in every corner being the only illuminating feature in the dark room. The only exception was the bed. It was a pitch black color with white sheets and blanket.

Her dress had long been discarded in one of the chairs in the room, the only article clothing her at the moment being her cream colored garter belt with matching thigh high stockings. San thought they looked absolutely adorable on her. The visual only heightened his need to claim her, to corrupt her, to stain her forever with his unholy mark.

He was currently in between her legs, his mouth attached to her heat. Purple blotches were already decorating her inner thighs, courtesy of his teeth. He swirled his tongue around her clit before sucking down on it. He moaned and that action alone made her thighs tremble and close around his head. But he was having none of that. His hands pushed her thighs apart again, nails digging into her petal soft skin as he continued to ravish and feast on her succulent taste.

"S-San...wait...feels f-funny...." She stuttered out after a few minutes.

He knew exactly what she was referring to: she had about to have an orgasm. As much as he'd love to see her come undone on his tongue alone, he made an effort to pull himself back before the feeling got too intense. She let out a whine of frustration and looked at him with a puzzled look, unsure of what was happening.

San ran his thumb across her lip.

"Don't worry darling. I told you I'll open up a new world for you..

And I always keep my promises."

Unzipping his pants, he pushed them down his legs and threw them onto the floor. He smirked as he took in Y/N's astonishment as she gaped at his nude form, or more specifically, at his thick and long length. She seemed to hesitate for a minute, no doubt intimidated by his size, wondering how was that supposed to fit in her.

Climbing on top of her, he placed a reassuring kiss to her temple.

"I'll take good care of you darling...trust me."

His lips captured hers in a hungry kiss. His tongue slipped inside and danced around her mouth, almost like the waltz from hours before. His hands went to the back of her thighs, lifting them up and wrapping them around his waist. He lifted his hips up slowly, the tip of his cock pressing against her folds. He began slipping inside her, going inch by inch so she could get adjusted to the feeling, not wanting to scare her.

Although it took a lot in him to not just pound into her as he wished to.

She wrapped her thighs tighter around his waist, the foreign and stinging feeling of his intrusion causing her to hiss and cry out a little. San peppered kisses across her jaw and neck in an effort to soothe the pain, while his hands drew circles around her thighs. He stayed still until he felt her relax under him. She looked back at him, her face asking what to do now.

"I'm going to start moving now ok? Just relax and let yourself go."

He pulled out of her in a speed that was torturous to him. Then he slowly pushed himself back in, watching as she took deep breaths and looked down at where their bodies connected. The more she looked at him pushing in and out, the more it helped to relax and put her at ease. San knew it too. Her at first raspy breathing turned to soft, melodious moaning.

His hips snapped up and began rolling at a faster pace, causing his cock to hit the perfect angle in her. Her breath hitched and she gasped when the overwhelming feeling in her stomach started to return, building up inside her, threatening to be released any second now.

The demon could feel it too. He's had years of experience to know what her body was doing. He watched as her face contorted, trying to figure out what was happening.

"Sa-San..." She called out, trying to warn him.

He smirked at her.

"I know, I can feel you clenching around me. You feel so good. I can't wait to feel you cum on my immense cock."

His dirty talking only served to have her whine underneath him. His hand reached down and began toying with her nipple.

"So come on babygirl, let me feel you burst. I know you can do it.....

Give it to me."

He commanded those last words to her and just like he knew would happen, she shuddered under his body, her first orgasm in her entire life taking over her, a soft pathetic whimper being the only noise she could muster. It wasn't anything too loud or over the top, as San pretty much expected. It was her first time.

Besides.....there was plenty of time to have her scream his name.

He kissed her nose and smiled.

"You did so well darling. I'm so proud of you."

She blushed at his compliments. San pulled out of her, a proud evil grin plastered on his face as he noticed the sticky trail that dripped out of her onto the sheets: a few droplets of blood signifying he had deflowered her.

Now to corrupt her even more.

He picked her body up and spun her around, making her get down on all fours as he gripped her hips once again.

"Now it's my turn to have a little fun."

She let out a loud moan when he entered her for the second time, her body still sensitive from her first orgasm. San didn't bother to go slow anymore, he knew she could take it. He thrusted in and out of her at an inhuman speed, low moans and hisses coming out of his mouth.

"Fuck! I can feel you getting close again beautiful, your pussy is so fucking tight, it's practically swallowing my cock."

He chuckled when he felt her clench even tighter around him.

"Oh you like that don't you? You like being told you're nothing but a cockslut?"

She hid her face in the pillow in front of her, trying to hide the groan that just past through her throat. San however grabbed her by the hair and pulled her face back up.

"Answer me you little whore."

She yelped when his hand landed a harsh smack to her ass.

"Y-yes San!"

He smacked her once again before pulling her even more roughly and pressing her back to his chest.

"Right now it's Master. Got it you filthy slut?" He growled into her ear.

"Yes Master!" She cried out.

"Good little whore." He praised her.

He continued his merciless pounding, one of his hands trailing down her abdomen to rub her now swollen and pink clit. Y/N now had a few tears rolling down her cheeks from the overstimulation and she hung her head low.

"Uh uh little slut. None of that."

His free hand wrapped around her neck, forcing her to look up. He tilted her slightly to the right so she could see their sinful reflection in the mirror by the wall.

"Look at you. You look so fucking desperate, wanting to cum again on my cock. Is that what you want? To cum on master's cock? Then beg for it."

Y/N let out a series of whimpers, collecting all the strength she could to cry out:

"Please master! I want to cum, let me cum on your cock!"

San was loving this. It had been so long since he had such an innocent thing begging for him.

"How bad do you want it darling? Does Master's cock make you feel that good?" He teased her.

"Please Master I want it so bad! It feels so good, please don't stop!" Her words were barely incoherent now from how overwhelmed with pleasure she was.

Having being satisfied by her answer, he squeezed her throat, causing her to gasp and writhe her body as her second orgasm took over, far more intense than the first. He never slowed down his pace therefore making her convulse even more violently and shriek out a chant of his name, further heightening his pride and ego.

Very soon after, he cursed loudly as he reached his own climax, his cock spurting out his cum inside her, filling her up with his sinful load. She collapsed on the bed, worn out by the physical intimacy that just took place. San chucked darkly when not even a minute later she was completely passed out. That always happened. Humans couldn't handle having intercourse with a demon, they were practically insatiable and always passed out after a night with them.

Pulling the blanket to cover her, San ran his fingers through her hair. He admired her features for a few minutes. She was really beautiful, an ethereal beauty that only came once every century. Even in her now corrupted and tainted state, she was still the most alluring person he'd ever seen, and he's seen even angels themselves.

Now he knew he wanted her all to himself, completely for him and for no one else to own. He wasn't going to allow anyone to take her from him. He didn't have to worry about celestial beings claiming her, they wouldn't want her now. But other demons might want her.....

Getting up he opened a drawer and took out something he'd never imagine using in any lifetime. But there was always a first time for everything. He held up the gold contraption in his hand before letting it set over one of the flames from the various candles in the room. Once he made sure it was hot enough, he approached Y/N quietly.

It's a good thing she wouldn't wake up for a couple hours....

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

Y/N squinted, trying to let her eyes adjust to the lighting. She felt a dull aching in her lower abdomen and legs, reminding her of the events that took place last night. She looked around, seeing that she was still at San's place, but he was nowhere to be found. She sat up and rubbed her shoulder, feeling some sort of burning and stinging pain.

She paused when she looked at the mirror and noticed something on the back of her shoulder. Getting up and trying her hardest to walk with her limp, she went to the mirror and turned slightly to the left. She froze when there was a bright red mark on her upper back in the shape of a pentagram with the letter 'S' in the middle of it.

She started freaking out. Was this some kind of joke? Where was San?

"Well good morning my dear."

Speaking of the devil, he appeared right behind her, making her whip around and face him.

"Did you do this?" She asked, pointing to the mark.

"I did. I think it really suits you." He smiled proudly.

"Why? Why would you do this?"

"Why you ask? It's simple."

He took a few steps forward. Leaning in, he gripped her chin.

"Because you're mine now and I own you."

She scoffed at his words, repulsed that he could do this.

"You're insane." She spat out.

"I've been called worse." He sat up straight again.

Y/N marched over to the chair on the other side and began grabbing her clothes.

"And just where do you think you're doing?" San crossed his arms in front of him.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm leaving."

He let out a hearty laugh at that.

"Leaving? Oh no sweetheart. You're not leaving. You can't leave me." He told her.

"Yeah? Watch me."

She pushed him out of her way and headed for the door, but before she could reach for the handle, San appeared right in front of her out of thin air, causing her to step back in fear.

"What the-" She exclaimed.

"Let me repeat myself darling..."

San began to take steps towards her as she began to slowly retreat from him.

"I own you. You can't leave because you're mine now. I marked you so no one else takes you from me, in other words..."

He slammed his hand against the wall behind her when they reached it. She watched in horror as his dark orbs shifted into a fiery red color that burned deep in her soul.

"You're bound to me for all eternity...... and now you're a part of my world....and there's no turning back..."

࿇ ══━━━━✥◈✥━━━━══ ࿇

[ayasmess]

Demonic!Yugyeom x OC | Kinktober: all sins week | Smut (sensory deprivation), angst 

words: 3.4k+

Every year, you receive a letter. Every year, you just put it in the left compartment of your closet. But you’d never open them. After all, you swore to never touch it again. Witchcraft.

Your mother tried to make you believe in it, even on her deathbed, and still, you refused.

But what if one night, when you’re not thinking right, you invoked him. Would it be your worst mistake?

“What do you mean you’re not coming?” Your friend asked through the phone.

While putting her on speaker, you went to your closet, putting back some clothes, always avoiding the left compartment. “I meant what I said. I don’t feel good about standing in the same room with my ex and his amazing fiancée who by the way is my childhood friend.”

You heard a sigh. “It’s been 2 years, I’m not saying you shouldn’t feel like that, all I’m saying is that you could meet other people.”

“Why would I meet other people? I have you guys.”

“Maybe because you can’t screw your friend and you need some.”

“Who said we can’t— okay no I’m good without screwing you.” You laughed and stop arguing. “I have to go, but as I told you, enjoy the party, I probably won’t be there.” You replied and hung up before she could even complain.

Maybe something was wrong with you, maybe you should have said yes. Maybe not being close to that box would have been the salvation to your pain. But that night, you decided that he was your salvation.

Do you regret it?

Are you scared of the night?

Do you fear him or you?

 For the whole week, you tried to organize your room, again and again. As if something was wrong, you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable. You moved all your furniture, even reorganize your closet. But you never touched that left compartment, as if it was cursed.

Those letters were cursed, after all, they bore his seal.

 The week passed, the night of Halloween, your friend insisted to come to your house at least before the party. She didn’t like the thought of you being alone that day. So here you were, both of you on the floor of your bedroom, alcohol in your blood, for god’s know how long. You were not the type to drink that much but tonight was different.

“I still don’t understand why you don’t want to go to the party... You know we still have time.” She looked at you, smirking.

You sighed. “I don’t know, it feels wrong. To be there and to see his happily ever after face, while I’m just a drunken ex who can’t get over him.”

“We all know it’s not him you have to get over. It’s hard sometimes to move on when you feel like you’re in a hole and everyone just keeps moving.”

“And that hole is so big. God, I can’t even see the outside.” You drunkenly admitted.

“Girl, we’re so drunk, we don’t make sense.” She laughed as she got up. “Come on.”

You looked at her puzzled. “What?”

“Remember what your mom used to say? To enjoy the day without thinking about tomorrow and if a dude can’t appreciate your boobs just go for another one.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not what she used to say...” You snickered.

“Let’s go to that fucking party and have fun. Who cares about that trash and his trashoe. We’re going to have fun and... and I forgot what I wanted to say—“

You laughed loudly and you paused as you looked at her fondly. “Okay just for you.”

“Oh god, please don’t fall in love with me.”

“Shut up and help me find a good outfit.”

 She searched in your closet for the clothes, throwing some of them on the bed. While opening all the compartment, her fingers met a box nested at the bottom. Her curiosity got the best of her and she pulled it.

When she opened it, a hand closed it quickly. “Don’t.” You spoke a little harshly.

She looked at you surprised. “Letters? Why do you hide letters?”

You looked away and hesitantly you responded. “It’s about the invocation. You know that whole witchcraft stuff my mom used to believe?”

“Yeah! And I freakingly believed her! What is the content of those letters?!”

“It’s nothing, just superstition. Every year, we’re allowed to make a wish to our spiritual guardian. And we have to burn that letter as a part of the offering.”

“You never did that... because?”

“Because I don’t want to meet him or communicate with him. Not anymore.”

“Okay... y’all weirdos. Come on let’s go get that outfit.”

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” You walked down the street, fiddling the side of your skirt.

“No, but who cares. In the worst case, it was just a drunken night, we probably won’t remember the details. In the best case, you met an amazing guy, who had an amazing sense of humor and you both shared amazing sex—“ You put your hand on her mouth before she could continue.

“Okay, that’s enough! I got it I got it.” You chuckled nervously.

 If only you met that guy. Except, you obviously didn’t. But you did hear a conversation about your amazing ex and his amazingly pregnant fiancée. When you tried to move away from the group, you bumped into someone. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You heard as you felt the content of your drink on your shirt. Great. Amazing night.

You sighed and looked upwards. Okay maybe, your friend was right about meeting a cute guy. Meh, too late. “It’s okay, I wasn’t careful either.”

“Look, let me go get a shirt in my room.” Oh, and you bumped into the host.

“It’s okay I wanted to go home anyway.”

“At least, let me walk you to your house. I think we live in the same street?”

“Yep... You don’t have to—“

“Come on, I’ll grab my jacket.”

 Okay, maybe it wasn’t so late.

 And maybe you enjoyed his presence as you both talked on the way. Was it the way his eyes glowed when he smiled? Was it his cute smile? Was it the amount of alcohol in your blood? Or was it this sinking pain in your chest every time you thought how unfair your life was? What made you kiss him in front of your house?

 You felt his hand slide from your cheek to your waist, pressing you against him. You didn’t mind, as long as he could take away that oppressive feeling.

But he couldn’t.

At which point did you invite him inside? You don’t remember. Who cares, as long as he keeps pressing his lips on your neck.

When did you even start to grind against his thigh while he pressed you against the wall of your room? You couldn’t care less, you just wished his touch could be your salvation. Just for the night.

And then you felt his hand sliding below your waist. He sensed your sudden stiffness.

That oppressive feeling on your chest became heavier and heavier.

And stupidly you realized, his simple touch couldn’t salvage you.

He distanced himself before sighing. You couldn’t even meet his eyes. You felt his hand on your cheek as he gently kissed the side of your temple. “It’s okay, we don’t have to.”

You couldn’t help but whispered a pathetic sorry. He asked you if you needed him to stay.

All you could do was shake your head as you clenched your fists.

“Okay” That’s all he said, as he left.

 What a fucking awkward night.

You walked toward your bed and lie on it. You didn’t have any rational thought. Nothing.

And then your sight turned toward your closet. The compartment was still closed.

You didn’t think right.

Let’s blame the alcohol.

You shouldn’t touch that cursed letter.

But you did.

 You got up, you walked towards that closet and you opened it. You took one of the letters between your hand. A strange numbness on the extremities of your fingers begin. You couldn’t read it, Latin words spread the old paper.

You never understood how the letters came to your house. No one knew. Some say it’s just black magic, and we shall never touch it, in fear of corruption.

Others used them for their sins.

 A small whisper asked you.

 Are you a sinner?

 All your instincts screamed, don’t open it. Don’t call him.

And yet, you did.

 You wished to see him again, you wished he could take away that pain, you wished he made you forget about it, about this guy you met, about your ex, about his perfect life, about your mother, about this oppressive feeling, about this loneliness.

 “Take it away.”

You wished for him.

 And just like that, the letter burned.

The room became cooler. And the lights around you blinked. And you felt a shiver.

 “Missed me?”

 His voice was the same. Just like when he left you, or when you left him. Cold and cynical.

 You let a shaking breath. He slowly walked in your direction.

“Tell me, sweetheart. Did you miss me?” He whispered to your ear, and gently he pressed his lips on your neck. You sighed, as his arm encircled your waist and pressed you against his chest.

 Despite the shortness of breath, you whispered pathetically. “Yugyeom—“

 “I waited for you. 3 long years, in this darkness.” His fingers digging into your sweater, you could almost feel the extremities of his nails.

“At first I was worried that I scared you.” A small kiss was pressed against your temple.

“And then resentment came, along with his companion, un-forgiveness, when I realized you were never going to free me again.” He bit your ear.

“So tell me, love, why should I answer your prayer when you gave up on me?”

 Shaking, you tried to control yourself. And boldly, you answered. “You get to consume my sin, isn’t that worthwhile reason?”

 He chuckled. “I shall honor your prayer then.”

 Suddenly, your surroundings disappeared, you just blinked for a second, and the next you were caught in his illusion.

 You could feel the softness of the bed against your back. You could smell the scent of burning candles around you. You could hear the quiet sound of the rain outside, hitting the windows.

But all your attention was on him.

 His hands were on top of your head, his knees on each side of your body. You wouldn’t be able to get away from him. That is if you wanted to.

 He straightened himself, unbuttoned his leather shirt. You let a shaken breath at the sight of it. He chuckled at the sound of your squeal when he pulled you closer to him.

“I like this color. Looks good on you.” He hummed as his finger played with the front zipper of your red sweater. He kissed softly the side of your mouth. “But I prefer you without it.” He pulled it downward, revealing your naked chest. He smirked at the sight, caressing your waist. “Definitely better.”

 His other hand brushed the side of your jaw, his eyes finding yours, and softly his lips found yours.

 Maybe you missed this. His delicacy every time he kissed you as if you could disappear at any moment. As if, his tenderness would bring you back to him, like a magnet. As if, no one could give you this warmth.

 You couldn’t help but bringing him closer to you, gripping the sides of his shirt, while you responded passionately to his kiss.

A small whimper left your lips when you felt his hand leaving your waist, leading toward your breast, his thumb caressing your nipple, before pinching it.

 He straightened himself and moved his chest away from yours.

His hand traveled toward your thighs, before encircling them and bringing you closer. You could feel the shape of his crotch through the clothes.

But he didn’t move, he didn’t do anything. He just stared at you, a little smirk on his lips.

Looking at him, you couldn’t help but pout. You wrapped your legs around his hips and brought your crotch to his.

Licking his lower lip and biting it, he then asked smugly. “What are you going to do? Satisfy yourself?”

You whispered, ungraciously. “Shut up.” But again, you were not the gracious type, and he wasn’t either.

Hence why his hands fallen on either side of your head, he brought himself closer to you and whispered. “Come on, be a good girl, and do it.” His lips brushing yours, you closed your eyes, before lifting your pelvis.

You could feel his smirk against your lips, as you started to grind against his crotch. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and gripped the lower part of his hair. You couldn’t repress the small smirk on your lips when you heard him grunt. He pressed his crotch against yours before detaching himself from you roughly.

He snapped his fingers, and one second later, you were completely naked in front of him. He cockily raised an eyebrow at your blushing cheeks, as you were embarrassed by this sudden appearance.

“Let’s play a game sweetheart.”

You frowned at his words, you knew they were bad news but your curiosity took over.

His face moved closer to you as he cooed. “Let’s see how much you can take it.”

 He unbuckled his belt and took it between his fingers. You gasped as you felt invisible hands holding your wrists and bringing them on top of your head, to the bedhead. Before you could question his intention your wrists were encircled by the belt against it. “Yugyeom—“

“Ah-ah.” He stopped you. “You still have a punishment to take.” You shivered as you felt his finger brushing your neck, following its course toward your chest, and then stopping right before your pelvis.

He looked at you and thought. “Let’s add another thing.”

You nervously anticipated. And before you could even ask him, darkness surrounded you.

The silk scarf around your eyes, your hands tied against the bedhead, you felt deprived of his touch, until his finger skimmed your thigh.  

He chuckled at the sound of your whimpers. Before you could even say anything to rush him, his thumb was pressed against your mouth. “Who said you could talk, love?”

Slowly opening your mouth, you took his thumb against your lips, biting it lightly. Softly, you began to suck it when he pressed it against your tongue.

Suddenly, he pulled it away from your lips. Before you could whine about it, you felt his mouth on your lips, gently kissing you. You responded with more passion as if you didn’t know when he would give you this satisfaction. Biting your lower lip, when you moaned at the touch of his finger on your inner thigh, he deepened the kiss.

You shivered when his fingers brushed your skin, slowly moving toward your core.

He didn’t press his fingers on it, he just skimmed it, chuckling at the sight of your pelvis moving away from the ticklish touch.

He kissed the side of your jaw as his finger was pressed against your core, gathering moisture. You whimpered when you felt pressure on your clit. He pressed his thumb against it, making an encircling gesture. You wrapped his waist with your leg so he could continue.

You cried at the slow invasion of his finger inside, his kiss muffled your moans. He moved slowly, before adding another finger.

He moved his lips toward your neck, biting your skin and leaving purples marks in his path toward your chest. You moaned when he started to take your nipple between his lips and at the same time his fingers quickened their pace. You could feel your core tightening its grip on his fingers, as he kept stimulating it. You cried when you felt pressure on your clit. You squealed out of surprise when you realized it wasn’t his touch.

All you could hear was his snickers. “What you cannot fear what you cannot see, darling.” If it was another time, you’d argue but all you could think was how overwhelmed you were. You opened your mouth to shut his cocky attitude but a gasp left your lips. He quickened his pace and the pressure grew on your clit, you could hear the wet sounds of his fingers pushing and pulling out of your pussy.

Your wrist tried to pull themselves from the grip of his belt, as you cried when you felt your pleasure building up.

Before your orgasm finally hit you, your wrists were liberated, and you quickly encircled your arms against his neck, bringing him closer to you. Waves of pleasure hit your body, the silk depriving your vision disappeared and before you could think, his lips found yours. His fingers left your spastic core. He brought you closer to him, encircling his arms around your waist.

Your body called its shaking against him, as you buried your face in his shoulder, his musky smell engulfed you. He kissed the side of your temple, before looking at you in the eyes.

You took his face between your hands and gently you brushed his cheeks with your thumbs. You murmured. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving you here. For not being there when you needed someone.”

 There was no room, no windows, no candles, no walls, no illusion. Just this bed with him and you in this darkness.

Darkness surrounded you, but you weren’t scared. Not anymore.

 His hand moved toward your cheek, removing the falling tear, before kissing your closing eyes.

He took your thighs with his hands, bringing you closer to his crotch. You moved your hand and wrapped it around his girth. He kissed you gently as you felt him inside you.

He slowly moved, letting you get accustomed to his length. You sighed at the building pleasure, before pushing him on the back so you could ride him. And softly, you began to grind against him. He wrapped his hands on your hips, throwing his head backward, feeling your warmth surrounding his cock.

His pelvic pressed against your clit, stimulating you. You brought your chest closer to him, so you could kiss his neck. Taking his skin between your lips you left small purple marks on it.

You cried when he moved his pelvic, thrusting his hips. He held your waist so you wouldn’t move, and he started to pound from below. You could feel your legs shaking from the pleasure.

Before you could react, he removed himself from you. He pushed you so your back hit the mattress and he was on top of you. You whine at the sudden emptiness, as he tapped his cock against your clit, teasing you.

He kissed you as he pushed it inside you once again. He slowly thrust before moving faster. Moans were muffled by his kisses. He started to pound while his hand reached your clit, stimulating it.

You whimpered at the pressure of his fingers, you wrapped your legs around his waist and gripped him even tighter.

Your breathing got faster and difficult as this overwhelming pleasure hit your body. And before you could even think right, your vision lightened, your back arched. Your hand gripped the side of your pillow as he continued to thrust inside you, seeking his pleasure and overwhelming yours. His thrusting became erratic. You brought him closer to you, kissing the shell of his ear, engulfing him with your intoxicating scent. You could hear his soft moans when he started to come inside you.

You caressed his hair as you both tried to calm your breathing.

He pulled himself away from you.

His gaze meeting yours, you began to feel nervous and vulnerable in this state. You were scared of the possible rejection, but you couldn’t help but touch his cheek with your hand.

Slowly, as if you could disappear if he moved harshly, he kissed your palm. He laid at your side, before pressing you against his chest. Leaving a soft kiss on the side of your temple he whispered. “Don’t leave.”

You kissed his neck before answering him. “I won’t. Not anymore.”

You were not scared of your feelings. You were not afraid of being in love with a demon.

[mommymooze]

Lack of Vision

Reader x Black Eagles

The smell of ancient vellum, leather, ink, paper and polished wood fills your nose before you enter the room. Some of the students have begun to clear out having finished the bookwork assigned by their professors. You prefer the library to be nearly void of others, their whispered conversations disturbing your concentration and you can feel their eyes upon you as they watch you reading and looking for the proper materials for class. You come from a well-respected family in the Empire, not a noble, however your family works with them and high level healers and mages.

None of that matters here at Garreg Mach. Teenagers are cruel creatures, judging everyone by their superficial standards. The more aesthetically appealing, the higher the regard given to the student. You are nearly invisible to most of the students, nothing of importance about you. There are thick eyeglasses on your face that warps your appearance into something strange and difficult to look at. You attract no attention, nor do you draw attention to yourself. The only person that notices you for any reason is Hubert. He took interest in you for a short period of time to confirm that you are no danger to his Lady, once cleared he ignores you like the rest.

The Professor is extremely hesitant to allow you to accompany the group into any battle. Your primary focus is Faith magic and healing, however you do cast reason spells. Targeting enemies at a distance is, extremely difficult for you. As far as healing, Linhardt keeps his fellow students alive long enough for the group to make it back to the monastery, Dorothea being his backup. When the student is brought back to the infirmary, that is where your magic becomes the most useful. Your healing skills quickly rival Manuela. Not being distracted by sparring, fighting and traipsing around the campus flirting, fighting or pranking like most of the students, you immerse yourself completely into your studies.

You constantly write home requesting additional and more advanced healing tomes and books about magical theory. Even Professor Hanneman is jealous of some of the people you correspond with regularly, discussing points of rune manipulation and theory. Professor Byleth is surprised that you pass the Gremory test before the ball. You would be upset if you had not passed, perfecting your magic skill is your obsession.

Eyeglasses are the worst in every weather. They fog in winter, get drippy with spring rain. Summer they slip and slide from sweat. Fall it is back to rain. At the academy, there is just enough space between the buildings that your glasses quickly get acclimated to the cooler temperature outside, then as soon as you step inside, they fog up immediately, rendering them useless. Useless for you means near blindness. You can tell that things moving around are other people. There is no depth perception, stairs are terrifying. As soon as you make your way inside a building you seek a wall to put your back against as you wait for the fog to clear.

Once Ferdinand had found you just inside the building containing the library. He grabbed your hand and started to drag you to the stairs. You had to stop and explain to him why you were so intimidated and refused to go with him.

He should offer his arm so that you can hold on and if anything bothers you or you do not feel comfortable you could let go and keep your balance and composure. He then starts to march forward at his normal pace, which is great if you are tall and long legged such as he is, however your height is more in the category of Edelgard’s and you would have to nearly run to keep up with him.

“Pretend you are carrying a teacup filled to the brim with hot tea. How quickly would you move with that in your hand? Do you want to spill it all over yourself and possibly burn your hand?” You ask.

“Goodness no!” Ferdinand responds. “What a terrible waste of tea!” Ferdinand thusly takes his time and you arrive at the library unscathed.

Time passes, Emperor Edelgard declares war. You join her side without hesitation. The church is indeed corrupt. The noble system is useless and only sustains power to those that should never have been entrusted to it in the first place. The Emperor also announces the Black Eagle Strike Force. Not long after this announcement you approach her, Hubert always alongside of his liege.

You reach forward placing a handful of necklaces with a Black Eagle medallion on them. “I wish to distribute these to the members of the Strike Force with your permission.”

Hubert immediately notices that the necklaces are enchanted. “What is this?” He demands an answer.

“As you know, my sight distance is limited. This will expand my abilities greatly. Should someone undergo severe injuries or become surrounded by enemies I can remove them from the situation or cast physic on them. It does not have to be visible on their person, they can wear it under their armor.” You answer.

“How do you know one from another?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Once everyone has worn them for a few days I will be able to tell the difference, who has which necklace and once in battle I will have no issue identifying the correct person to assist.”

“Hmmm.” Hubert is hesitant to agree.

“I think it is a wonderful idea. We have a long difficult road ahead of us. If it provides the opportunity to save an ally, I cannot see how this would be an issue.” Emperor Edelgard smiles.

Leaving a necklace for the two on the table, you seek out the remainder of the Strike Force handing them their necklaces, giving them instructions to try to wear it at all times, always wearing it during a battle. You then find Linhardt and discuss the intricacies of the spell with him. He is quite impressed, not impressed enough with needing to learn anything further, lest it cause him more missed naps.

Unfortunately, you are not able to give Professor Byleth theirs before the attack on Garreg Mach.

Without being amid the battle itself, you greatly aid your allies. Two clerics with minor healing skills and perfect eyes describe the battle as it unfolds. They both speak at the same time describing everything they see. You have been training them for weeks. They keep you appraised of nearly everyone on the battlefield. You cast physic and fortify on several allies, healing them, allowing them to keep fighting. Nobody must be rescued as a result, however it is always an option.

The weary warriors return to camp, the injured head to the infirmary. Once you heal all wounded there, you quietly make your way around camp. Stopping at the entrance to a tent you announce yourself.

“You are injured. Let me attend you.” You whisper to the canvas entrance flap.

“I have seen too much blood today. Let me sleep.” Linhardt moans.

You enter the tent, shuffling forward until you touch his cot. “You’ll sleep better if you are healed. Assist me if you want this completed quickly. Fight if you want this to take longer.”

“Very well.” The sleepy man turns on his side, tugging at his robes to show his right leg and the gash in his calf.

You need little light to work, most of what you do is by touch. Cleansing the wound, folding and refolding the cloth to have the clean portion removing the debris and dried blood. Healing the wound, finally rubbing the scar with light soft touches of magic until nothing is left but smooth and slightly pink skin.

You leave, heading for the next tent. It is easy to tell who is injured. Sometimes the smell of blood alerts you. Whimpers of pain, cursing, stuttered breathing, all of them involuntary tells that they are hiding their wounds. No amount of chastising them has worked thus far. You must seek them out and find them before they fall face first in the dirt, fevers burning because of infection that quickly settles in their neglected wounds.

You can tell this tent belongs to Ferdinand. He makes the smallest high pitched squeak when he moves an injured muscle the wrong way.

“Ferdie, I’m coming in.” You give him ten seconds before you enter.

“S-Sorry. I should’ve…” The redhead begins to apologize.

“Shh. Guide me to the worst first.” You instruct him. You’ve been through this many times before. You recall back at the monastery you would drag him back to the infirmary after returning from battles. He would then invite you to tea and tell you about everything that happened. He would frequently let slip about a few people that had been hurt, and those you had not seen in the infirmary would be sought out later.

His hip had a deep gouge in it from the point of a sharp lance. You wonder how me made it back to the tent with something that deep, the blood had dripped all down his leg. You cleanse it, pouring some healing potion in to soften the burn as you prepare him for the alcohol to follow, flushing out the debris and who knows what that was on the enemy lance tip. Finally, you heal the wound closed now that you are certain it will not become infected. He tells you the next injury is to his shoulder.

Completing your treatment of each and every one of his wounds you get back on your feet. “Tell me what you find in the morning. The worst infections can come from the smallest cuts.”

“I know, thank you.” He calls out to the darkness of his tent.

You know whose tent is next. You stand outside, pausing. “Don’t blast me into next week. I must do what is necessary.” You announce before entering.

“Your concern is unnecessary.” He fumes.

“You prefer necrosis?” You sass.

“To be looked after –ugh.” Hubert groans.

“Better than dead. I’m going to be here a while, aren’t I?” You kneel in front of his cot, smelling blood everywhere. You know he has a high threshold for pain but this man is ridiculous. He is a human pincushion filled with so many holes he should be classified as swiss cheese.

You begin by placing him under a magically induced sleep. This slows his heart rate, making him bleed out slower. Lighting several candles in the room you need to pick apart this man, healing every possible wound new or old, removing all signs of infection.

He cares so little for himself it is a miracle that he can remain standing on his own feet most days. Tweezers and a scalpel assist you with removing four pieces of shrapnel from his back. Two fractured ribs are also healed. His legs are battered by the fallout of spells attacking him. He can deflect them from his head and torso, however he is so tall that his legs still feel some of the impact of magic and what it carries with it. One last scan for any further untreated injuries makes you sigh in relief. You pull back on the sleep spell a bit. He remains asleep, allowing him to rest, however he should not be so deep in sleep as to not be able to be rustled awake.

Sitting on the ground in front of his cot, you rest and meditate until morning. You will not leave him unprotected. Once he begins to rustle several hours later, you stand and face the exit to the tent.

“I would ask if I missed anything, but you will never tell me if I did.” You state matter-of-factly.

“Thank you.” He mutters softly.

You nod and leave.

Camp is broken down. Everything is packed into wagons or on the back of horses. Enbarr is the next destination. Back to the capital to plan.

Most of the fights for the next few years are smaller skirmishes. The larger battles are much fewer and further between. However, this current battle is quite serious. The Empire has had control over the bridge at Myrddin since the Emperor declared war. There is word of kingdom forces approaching, threatening the bridge and surrounding territory. The entire Strike Force is called together to interfere with the invasion.

You have the bridge map memorized. The strategic meetings provide you with the locations of where everyone is to be deployed and defending their area. Your assistants inform you of the fighting and position changes as the battle unfolds. They update you as the enemy moves forward beginning their attacks. Suddenly the watcher to the right is quickly rambling, upset and excited.

“What! Tell me what is going on!” You order, having no idea what is happening due to their rambling.

“They are swarming, trying to get past Caspar and Ferdinand, many are getting through and overwhelming Hubert. He’s moving back but…”

Immediately you cast Physic at Hubert then Caspar.

“I can’t see Hubert there are so many around him!” the observer is shaking moving left to right to see.

You cannot let him fall. You cast warp and appear standing alongside his fallen body. There are a few surprised utterances by the soldiers, however they are quickly gathering their wits about them. They are not as fast as you are, you throw a series of spells. The first is your Thoron. You cannot see well enough to cast it as a normal Thoron, your modified version is closer to clusters of ball lightning emitting from around you, arcing out in a rotating pattern. You lean over Hubert, who is still alive from what you can feel. The soldiers swarming him are very very much at risk and feeling your wrath. Their bodies jolt and shake with the electricity. Just as the spell ends you cast recover on Hubert.

“Muh…more coming!” The dark mage blurts out, casting Mire at the closest one.

You call upon the hellfire from within you, casting your own special Ragnarock. The smell is horrific as all flesh in a huge circle around you is incinerated in the heat of the flames that extends around you for a 30 foot radius.

“What next?” You ask the dark mage on the ground beneath you.

“You were successful.” Hubert says as he takes your hand to assist him in getting back onto his feet.

Hubert begins to walk briskly towards the next sign of melee. You grab his elbow and are dragged along.

“Are you certain you wish to do this?” The dark mage asks.

“I’ve made it so far.” You counter, scared and excited at the same time as you are headed for the center of the battlefield.

There are a lot more sounds around you than normal. Spells going off, horses rushing in at the direction of their riders, the clashing of metal against metal. You keep turning your head at every sound. You hear the sound of boots coming closer, you cannot clearly make out a face, but the colors donned by the fighter are of the enemy, so you cast a normal Thoron spell at him. Hubert calls out and you direct your attention to him.

“Heal Ferdinand!” He orders.

You lock on the cavalier and cast Physic. A hearty Yes! is heard not too far away as you continue to be aware of your immediate surroundings.

Hubert dashes away from you, headed further toward the center of battle. You know better than to run into the thickest part of things where your clear vision extends not more than six feet ahead of you. A green coated figure comes close and you grab onto the arm of Linhardt as he walks past.

“Everyone good?” You ask as he is dragging you along with him.

“So far. I am glad this is almost over. I am so exhausted.” He groans.

You listen as the noise dies down, the sounds of spells being cast has ended. The voices are calling out more organizational orders than directing the forces to attack. Linhardt takes you to the area where they have set up camp, pointing you into the direction of the infirmary tent before he gets close enough to be dragged inside. A healer outside notices you and hauls you in, you are needed to put a few soldiers back together. Much later, as you emerge from the tent you are grabbed and warped away.

“Sit.” You are pushed backward until your calves hit a surface for you to sit upon. He stands in front of you, arms crossed.

“I know. It is a risk I had to take. You are too stubborn and so am I.” You confess before you are asked a question.

“Do you have any idea what-“ Hubert’s voice is full of venom and anger.

“Yes, I do. More than you. I did not join this war to do anything halfway.” You calmly answer. You know his bark is worse than his bite. And if he wanted to harm you, he would kill you first and ask questions later.

The dark mage turns to step away, then spins around to face you again. “And what of after the war?”

“I have no vision of what is beyond anything that I can see right now. I have bound myself to you through a blood oath that you did not participate in, so that I could help you live through this war.” You respond, quiet and rational. “You are not committed to me and owe me nothing. I knew you would not wear the necklace. I did what is necessary to keep you alive. We cannot win this without you. It is not like I will ever have a suitor clamoring at my door.”

Hubert is furious. You knew he would be. Based on ancient customs and rituals in several countries, one of them Brigid you created the spell. There is an exchange of blood between wedded parties, mixing their blood so the two could ‘become one’. However further research into the matter reveals that as a part of one’s self being with the other could be extremely useful, especially relating to magic spells to locate the other and/or to assist them.

The moment you warped to Hubert’s side, he knew what had occurred. You knew he would treat it as a betrayal of his trust in you, however this being a ‘one way’ blood passing would not bind him to you in any way. A complete exchange blood oath on his part would sever this one sided oath and cause a magical backlash to yourself. Since you had initiated this blood oath, you cannot perform this with another.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “What is done is done. Leave.” He orders.

The tents and supplies are packed away again, the long convoy is back on the road. The anniversary of the millennium festival approaches quickly. The weather has turned quite miserable, raining day and night. The roads are getting sloppier every day. Riding in the back of the supply wagon is dangerous for you, but you feel it is worse it is worse as you cannot tell where you are stepping. Just as someone announces they can see Garreg Mach in the distance, the wagon you are riding in flips onto its side due to the deep ruts in the roadway and shifting of the cargo. You are buried under multiple boxes and cargo from the wagon.

When you awaken you are dry and clean and lying on a cot in the infirmary of the academy. You sit up in the bed and recall what happened. Your left arm is wrapped up to your shoulder. You feel a bump on your head. What you don’t feel, is your glasses.

“Cleric?” You call out. You know someone was in the room with you, you had heard them with papers.

“Oh! You are awake. I will fetch Manuela.” You hear her footsteps getting further and further away down the hall.

Manuela arrives and explains the situation. Your left arm will have to be in a sling for a few days. Your glasses were crushed under the wagon. A message was written and sent today requesting a replacement pair, nothing we can do for that in the meantime. She fits you with a sling and at your insistence you walk from the infirmary down to the first floor. Alone.

You were able to slowly make it to the end of the corridor that led to a courtyard. From there you only have to cross the courtyard, find the stairs down and then the dorms in order to get to your room. Piece of cake you think to yourself. You know the layout of the monastery, where the obvious dangers are. It’s just the minor details that you can’t see. If someone leaves items out where they don’t belong or an item is in an unusual spot, that could be a problem for you.

The open courtyard is intimidating, people can come at you from all angles, and they do. You do not get run over, but you get spooked when a large something crosses your vision suddenly. You feel better when you get to the area that has bushes all along one side. You stay close to the bushes, keeping out of the way of the faster people.

Now is the dangerous part. The stone walkway in front of you, and the stairs that go down to the dorms. You must choose embarrassment or death. You choose to not die today. Sitting on the ground you scooch your behind closer and closer to where you think the edge of this level is until your feet reach the end of the stone covered walkway. You scoot until your lower legs are over the wall and feet are hanging. From here you scoot right until your feet touch the stairs leading down.

Whew. Now you can stand on the steps, hold on with your hands on the level above as you cautiously descend down the stairs. One step at a time. Your hands are now flat on the wall above the stairs. One last step and there’s no further steps. You made it! Nobody saw you or if they did they said nothing and you lived!

Cautiously you walk across the small courtyard until you knock into the porches of the dorms. You grab a post, sit on the porch, spin your legs and then stand up next to the post. No stairs, no problem you think.

You are at the last room, that belongs to Byleth. You knock.

“Come in.” Is pleasantly called from the inside.

“Byleth, can you give me a hand and get me to my room. I’ve been released by Manuela.” You request.

The former Professor walks past you, stopping so you can take her elbow. “I am happy that you are out already and didn’t have any serious injuries. Your eyeglasses were smashed beyond fixing. Are you going to be okay getting around on your own? She inquires.

“I can make it here and there. I have problems with stairs, anything that is left out of place, cats and dogs being on the paths. I perhaps should get a walking stick to help with balance. I can see a little, everything is just very very blurry. While you may see a barrel, its edges, the lines of the wood, the metal band holding it together, I see a brown almost oval blob. I can judge by the size of the blob if I am close enough to bump into it.

Byleth leads you out the door, pausing at the stairs, then through the courtyard to the next set of stairs, finally over to your room that is next to Bernadetta’s. Thanking her you go through your room, arranging your clothes and belongings. You are always quite organized in your room. Everything must be in its place or you can’t find it. You go to your desk drawer and pull out your magnifying glass. If you have plenty of light you can just make out a few letters in a row on a written page. So you can read, but it’s going to give you eye strain. You decide that maybe it’s time to do some handiwork. Heading out the door you walk to your neighbor and knock on hers.

“Bernie, can we talk a minute?” You ask pleasantly.

Bernadetta cracks her door open then shuts it quickly. “Who is it!”

“Bernie, it’s me. I don’t have my glasses, so I guess I must look different?” you question as you answer her.

“Oh! You do look much different without your glasses on.” The purple haired woman opens the door, now recognizing you, she lets you inside leading you to a chair by her desk.

“I heard they were broken when the wagon tipped over. How are you doing? I bet Bernie can help you some.” She smiles.

“Oh Bernie, that would be wonderful if you can walk with me sometimes. I don’t want to be a burden on anyone. I know you don’t like getting out much, but I do need to get to the dining hall. Honestly, the stairs scare me a lot!” You confess.

“Oh! I think they would be scary to someone that can’t see them. I will help you. Just let me know, okay?” Bernadetta offers.

“You have perfect vision, I trust you so much Bernie. Oh! I came over because I have a request. Since I can’t read much right now, I thought I would knit. Can I borrow a couple pair of needles you’re not using right now?” You request.

“Sure! I have quite a few different sizes, so you have a few to choose from.” The woman dashes to a drawer to grab her needles.

You are sitting on a bench outside the greenhouse knitting, a small rectangle grows longer below the needles.

Without turning you call out, “Hey Ferdinand, are you busy?”

“I did not see you there. You are looking quite well. Are you getting along all right? May I be of assistance in any way?” He happily answers, being the noblest of nobles, he must offer his assistance to all that could possibly require it.

“If you would have some time to escort me to the market briefly in the next few days, I would like to purchase some yarn.” You request.

Ferdinand bows low, “Of course, I would be most happy to assist. I do have somewhere I have to be, however I will return for you before dinner. I will then escort you to your room to store your purchase, and then take you to the dining hall as well. It is my duty to help all in need of aid. Please do let me know if there is anything else that I can assist you with.” He smiles brightly, you know because you can hear it in his voice. If a smile was ever loud, it would be his.

Time passes and Ferdinand returns to greet you again. “I am yours to command.” He says bowing before you.

“If you could please take me to the market and find the one selling wool and other knitting materials.” You say grabbing his elbow as he leads you past the pond.

“How are you getting along without your glasses? I see you are keeping busy.” He asks as you slowly stroll.

“I am doing fine. It’s not like I’ve suddenly lost my vision altogether. I simply cannot see clearly at the moment. The finer details are not visible. A basket of apples is varying shades of red in a brown circle. Grass is simply mottled green with no individual blades. Stairs do not show their depth, the ground does not reveal its pitch. If small thin items are on the footpath I cannot see them. Reading is difficult without a magnifying glass, and that gets tiresome after a while. I could not see very far away before, so nothing has changed there.” You reflect.

“Here we are.” Ferdinand brings you forward to the cart.

“Sir,” you ask the proprietor, “Have you any lambs wool or perhaps Angora?”

The man hands you two skeins of wool, one being a bit softer than the next. You feel some of the wool that he has on display. These two skeins are softer, but not by much, certainly not Angora wool.

“I have a project in mind for the Emperor you see…” You don’t care much for name dropping, however in this case, it is the absolute truth.

“Oh.” The merchant gasps. “I think this may be more in line with what you are looking for.” He takes the other two balls of yarn and replaces it with a different one.

This skein feels very silky and soft. There are long, soft hairs mixed in with the wool, which is much closer to the feel of the yarn you desire. “This is more like what I will need.” You answer. Haggling the price a bit you make your purchase. You also buy 8 other skeins of wool in different colors. And several pairs of knitting needles.

The merchant packages your goods and hands them to Ferdinand.

“Anything else?” the noble asks as he walks you back towards the dining hall.

“Thank you so much, it went much faster than me wandering from cart to cart, trying to identify what the merchant is selling.”

The next week you take your shifts in the infirmary, go to meetings and knit in your spare time. Bernadetta attends the meetings regularly, since she must escort you.

Guardian Moon is extremely cold to those from Enbarr. People from the Kingdom would probably walk about in their shirtsleeves. You invite Emperor Edelgard to tea in your room this day and she accepts.

You bustle about your room, gathering everything necessary for a lovely tea. The bergamot is steeping, smelling wonderful as she knocks.

“Please come in, Lady Edelgard.” You answer.

“You are as bad as Hubert! Just Edelgard, please!” She laughs.

“Please help yourself.” You offer sweet pastries with a delicious cinnamon crumble on top.

You fuss with the tea, removing the leaves now that the brew is complete. You pour for the both of you and offer sugar cubes or honey.

There is a knock on the door, “Package!” is called out in a male voice.

You are so excited you nearly knock over the tea table. You dive to the door and take the box from the delivery person, throwing coins at them and slamming the door.

You return to the table and hand it to Edelgard.

“Please open it for me. My new glasses!” You are beside yourself with excitement.

She laughs as she is handed the package and quickly removes the wrapping. Sliding the lid of the box open, she hands the box to you.

Your hands shake a little as you reach inside, taking the glasses in hand at the edge of the lenses, flipping the temples out, you slide them onto your face. You will have to adjust things a bit for the fit, but they feel like home.

“Well, how are they?” Edelgard excitedly asks.

“Perfect! You look even more beautiful than I remember you!” You grin widely, so happy to be able to see her clearly again.

“It is a shame that you have to wear them.” Edelgard comments. “They really distort your eyes. Perhaps some day they can create some type of magic to correct your eyesight.”

“Thankfully, I am not vain. I choose being ugly and able to see rather than be blind and pretty. As Dorothea says, beauty is only skin deep. It is the true beauty of the person inside that counts.”

“So true.” Edelgard nods.

You stand and scuttle over to a dresser. “I have something for you!” Reaching inside you remove a long red fluffy scarf. “It is getting colder outside, my hands need to keep busy. I made a scarf for everyone on the Strike Force.” You announce, handing her the scarf.

Edelgard takes it in hand and wraps it around her neck. “Oh my! This is the softest thing I have ever felt! It is so warm! I can feel my neck is warmer already!” She exclaims, then stands to give you a warm soft hug.

“We certainly need to keep warm through the next few battles.” You nod.

“Your perseverance is your strongest attribute.” Edelgard commends you. “We need people with that on our side. To engage the obstacles head on, finding new and different ways to get around them. I admire your strength in continuing to do your best, no matter what adversity is thrown your way. Knowing you makes me a stronger person.”

[bookwyrminspiration]

Shattered Upside Down

A kotlc wings au

summary:  When the world begins to crawl with unnaturally made monsters, the Keeper crew continue to fight like they always have. But a wrench is thrown in those plans when they themselves become less than human.

Chapter 1: The Descent

Word count: 7k

warnings: mild fantasy violence (nothing more than in canon), swearing

taglist: listed at the end beneath the cut, but let me know if you want to be added or removed

!!! Y’all!! It’s finally here!!! And you might be thinking, Quil they don’t have wings. To which I say: be patient!! this is a multi-chapter fic! this is just the groundwork <3

ao3 link here

or read beneath the cut

It was comical, really, just how quickly their security had crumbled into unbridled, ravaged chaos. They had relied on the extravagance of the Neverseen, always too brash, too bold, too eager for attention. They were self-sabotaging. They revealed their plans a moment too soon, wanting the world around them to see the cunning, the thought, to know which moments were their last.

And they’d played the part so clever, it hadn’t crossed a single mind that they were gracing more than one stage. That even when they weren’t putting on a show, they remained ingenuine.

The Black Swan had thought them comical storybook villains, all talk and poise. And then they’d slip, underestimating you and letting you swoop in last second, tossing wrenches in their gears and bringing them up short. A hero. Classic and overused, but a hero nonetheless.

It had been ludicrous to entertain the notion they could be capable of anything greater, anything deadlier. That they wanted to be stopped again and again. That they wanted to build the Black Swan’s confidence in themselves, wanted to be broken and bruised and battered and defeated again and again and again.

Because then who could consider them a threat?

Who would look for them, frail and scattered as they were?

They had all been lured into a false sense of security, taking the first deep, fulfilling breaths they’d had in years. And each day it came easier. Every passing second without disturbance relaxed their bodies and eased their minds. It had been months and months, long enough they felt safe. Actually safe. The idea was laughable now, but it had been true. The Neverseen were gone, dead and buried.

But villains work best from the grave.

The Ruewens noticed the shift first, although if you asked either of them they wouldn’t be able to tell you quite what it was. The subtle gleam gracing the teeth of each new animal they took in, each creature becoming more violent and vocal, tails thumping just a touch harder against the ground.

It was only a coincidence that seven times in a row the creatures were “uncharacteristically rough and wild for their species.” It only became worrisome when the docile creatures began to growl at anyone’s approach, even the ones that had already been tamed.

Then it all went to shit.

Absolute

fucking

shit.

You wouldn’t have been able to tell from the outside; it was surrounded by one-way glass. Look through and all you’d see were splotches of amorphous green, running streams, sunlight soft and secure. But the view from inside was a completely different story. From inside you could see the creeping mold and blood caked along the sides of streams, the marks in the trees and the torn roots, ash where the sun had burned too bright, rusted mist raining down.

What a nightmare they’d made of paradise.

Except, somehow, the Lost Cities themselves had ended up on the outside of the glass, content to pretend the creatures roaming the hills were only a problem if they were near you, which they weren’t. So what a pack of rabid unidentifiable beasts attacked? They hadn’t been here, so it wasn’t a problem.

Then it became a problem.

The creatures moved closer, working their way through the land, ravaging their way towards the Lost Cities. The elves blinked and they were surrounded. Crystal castles tumbled into sand, stone pavement was ripped from the ground, trees torn and shredded, dripping with infection.

They’d had no choice but to leave it all behind. There’d been backlash of course, despite it being in everyone’s best interest. Those who were so attached to what they had, what had remained a constant in the past millennia of their lives that they were fully willing to risk themselves for it. There was no doubt though, that had they been allowed to remain they would’ve regretted it the moment those creatures came to their door, the ones they’d refused to believe were their problem.

So they’d all moved below ground, deep enough they couldn’t be reached. Every inch of surface available to them was dangerous, so they’d gone beneath it. The dwarves had graciously worked to hollow out living space for them all, creating entire kingdoms beneath the sand. And now they were much more powerful, carried more weight with each step, the responsibility they’d risen to clinging to them and eating them respect no one could deny.

They’d all be dead without them.

Not everyone was in one place, a few spots underground scattered throughout the world and it nearly impossible to travel between them. Light leaping didn’t work underground, and it was an incredible risk to brave the surface for a single leap. Once everyone had been settled, they’d stayed there. And they were still there.

I mean, what else could they do?

It had taken them a bit to work out just where these volatile creatures had come from, the ones now spanning the entirety of the world--although the humans were still unaware. Something about the pollution and overall vibe of the forbidden cities kept the monsters away from them.

A few had suggested moving to the forbidden cities as an alternative to living underground, but the disgust for the places quickly killed that idea.

The Black Swan was adamant that somehow the Neverseen had to be behind this. The organization had been the only enemy they’d ever had--and they were right, in a way. Despite months of silence, of nothing, of security, they must’ve done something.

But how, was the question.

Perhaps it would’ve been better had the question never been answered, if they’d all remained ignorant of what had been hidden right beneath them. Certainly, there would’ve been more resistance had every single elf shoved underground been kept in the dark.

But alas, illumination came tied with a silver ribbon.

One of the smaller creatures, really not much larger than a candle, had slipped into the residences, stirring up a ruckus in its frantic attempts to escape as it realized it was trapped below ground. It had been caught in a corner, hunched over away from the lights. The entirety of its body had been shaded by the large mushroom cap covering its head. It was only on closer inspection they realized the red, dripping mushroom was attached to its head. The rest of its body was disproportionately small and warped, grooves scorn into the skin.

They had been taking it back towards a small air vent--so they could release it onto the surface--when they’d seen the small clasp. It was imperceptibly small, silver in color, piercing the underside of the mushroom cap. It was a tag. An identification tag complete with a pin number.

If that hadn’t been enough proof that the creatures had been intentional, the symbolic eye entwined with a sturdy chain would’ve been enough. Their hearts stopped dead. That eye was unmistakably the Neverseen’s symbol, but that chain…

It was clearly another symbol, the two mixed. But--

Fuck. The creature in their hands had grown panicked and impatient, the space they’d thought was its body leering open to reveal rows upon rows of stubby teeth, all sharp edges and imperfections. They’d nearly dropped the creature in their panic to shove it into the air vent, closing it quickly behind as the sharp, tiny stomps faded as it climbed further and further away.

That creature had been created intentionally and the Neverseen had been a part of it, that much was certain. But there was someone else. Another force out there with enough influence and power to corrupt the entirety of nature’s balance, able to rewrite the story of evolution, and they were represented by a chain.

But who was it?

No matter how shallow her breaths, the overwhelming stench of musk and mold continued to coat her tongue and turn her stomach sour. Sophie exhaled slowly; it would do no good to dwell on what she couldn’t change. The rest of them weren’t faring much better, but the thin cloths over their faces provided a sliver of relief.

Sophie, Fitz, Keefe, Biana, Dex, Tam, Linh, Marella, Maruca, and Wylie. More people than they’d usually risk bringing on a mission, but it was a necessary risk for one of this magnitude.

She assumed the thick scent was coming from the swaths of unidentified plant life gorging it way up the sides of the tunnel, clinging to wet, crumbling rock and glowing faintly blue in the light. At the very least it provided slight illumination of the tunnel ahead, along with the branching pathways they occasionally crossed that likely led to collapsed rooms and dead ends. Mere months ago she would’ve been anxious over the thought that the ground above her would give way and crush them all in moments. Now, however, months living underground had made the ground above her a comfort more than anything. If there was enough soil between her and the surface, the creatures that roamed freely couldn’t get to her.

Although that didn’t exactly apply when they were heading straight into the breeding facility; the heart of the creatures, their origin, where they still poured out in lucrative amounts, a constant supply keeping the surface a hazard.

We’re only about a half-mile away, Dex informed them. He spoke into their shared mental space, kept in place by Sophie and Fitz’s combined efforts, eliminating the need for out-loud conversation. Some of the creatures--especially the ones that liked the dark--had particularly keen hearing, and the closer they got, the riskier any noise would be.

Her head snapped to the side as Biana skidded for a moment on a patch of gravel, sucking in a sharp, silent breath as she caught herself. They all winced, pausing to listen if the sound had caught the attention of anything nearby.

Biana didn’t bother to apologize, they all knew it was inevitable and unavoidable--and it couldn’t be undone.

Remember the plan? It was Fitz’s voice echoing through their heads this time, although it felt like he was trying to whisper despite it being mental. They all nodded in response, and Keefe patted his pocket, bulging with the same explosives they all carried.

Sophie cleared her mind, running through the plan--which she’d done so many times by now the exact words were likely permanently etched into her brain. At the end of this system of tunnels--which Dex was navigating them through--was the breeding facility. This breeding facility was where the creatures on the surface were created, and where they were still coming from. Old and new types alike. Sophie had a basic outline of the facility--it had been difficult enough to find the location, buried deep beneath the earth, getting specifics was impossible--and the areas they were to hit. Everyone had a stash of explosives, black cubes small enough you could wrap your fingers around them. They’d get in, set up the devices, get out, and detonate them once they were a safe distance away.

It was supposedly simple, but everyone had their own speculations about what could possibly go wrong; the most likely was that they would be caught in the act.

The tunnel began to widen, opening into a large cavern; but, as they looked up, they realized it hadn’t always been. Pillars rose around them towards an arching ceiling, carved designs gracing the stone. It appeared this place had once been a grand room, almost reminding her of Victorian castles, but the floor had collapsed into rubble, green vegetation covering nearly every inch.

Linh rotated her hand as she fluttered her fingers, seemingly almost absentmindedly. The leaves rustled faintly, in response to her call. She said nothing for a moment, and Sophie’d almost forgotten about it when Linh spoke up.

I wonder how these plants are able to flourish so far underground, seemingly on their own. A memory from only a few seconds ago flashed through the mindbubble--Keefe’s nickname that had stuck-- and as Sophie watched it she could feel the body memories of Linh tracing the water through the roots of the plants and into the ground, trying to find a source large enough to sustain this vegetation.

Linh shook her head, nodding to herself and to assure the others she remembered their goal, their mission. The reason they were here.

Adrenaline hummed through Sophie’s veins as she began to survey the walls, the bases of which were a good ten feet above her head. She could sense the rest of the group doing the same, but it was Tam’s searching shadows that found the entrance.

It was nearly buried in a corner, obscured by mounds of rock and swaths of green, but it was there.

Sophie briefly sent out a wave of consciousness into the mindbubble, assessing her team and assuring they were all prepared. They seemed to be, although Linh still seemed to be ruminating on the water in the room, fingers rubbing together rhythmically.

Releasing a slow breath, she crawled into the hole, small enough she couldn’t have even sat up comfortably. If Dex’s directions were to be trusted, this hole would lead into an old ductwork system in the back of the facility, and from there they could drop down and continue as planned. The ground was jagged against her palms, but at the very least her hands were slightly protected by her gloves--the same black everyone was wearing now. They must’ve donned them before crawling in behind her-including Linh.

It’s dead ahead, she said, having spotted the reflection of the ductwork up ahead. She couldn’t imagine it led to anywhere particularly important in the facility, as the air it would’ve brought in was absolutely foul. Whatever glistening substance coated her hands and soaked her knees was going to linger.

She came to a stop at the edge where the rock gave way to rusted metal, but a moment was all she allowed herself. Bracing, she slowly lowered her hand and weight onto the ductwork, hoping it would remain silent.

A small thud resounded as the metal bent, but that was it. She gave the clear to the group and continued forward, already wishing this part were over. The duct was significantly smaller than the already cramped tunnel, but at least the tunnel had glowing fungus to light the path. This was pitch black and tiny, requiring them to shimmy on their elbows with only the light of their pendants to guide them. She wasn’t good enough at night vision for it to help, and she wasn’t going to waste energy trying. She needed to save everything she had.

The group continued forward with bated breath as they searched for an opening in the pathway, everyone eager to escape this claustrophobic nightmare. It’ll be over soon, she reminded herself, but when Biana echoed back, Soon, she realized she’d spoken into the mindbubble. Her cheeks flushed for a moment, but it was quickly put out of her mind when she saw a change in the lighting up ahead.

There’s something coming up, she transmitted, hushed. Don’t know what though. There was palpable hope in the air; they were all wishing it was the opening they’d been waiting for, but no one wanted to be let down if it turned out it wasn’t.

Sophie attempted to maintain the quickest pace she could without making sound, but in her urge to get to that possible opening, she nearly kicked the side of the duct. The person behind her--likely Marella, she hadn’t looked--sucked in a breath as everyone froze.

After only a moment's pause, she began forward again, now at a much more reasonable pace as the shift ahead was confirmed to be a vent.

She came to a stop before the slits of the vent, peering down into the room below, sending out a sweep of her consciousness to see if she could hear any thoughts indicating people nearby. Determining it was clear, she slipped the small multipurpose tool from where it’d been stored in her sleeve and began to undo the screws. It made an awful groan when she tugged off the grate, and she gripped it tight in one hand as she gently slid out face first, catching herself and levitating the rest of the way down.

The ground was surprisingly further than she’d been expecting, a good thirty feet from the vent in the ceiling to the dusty ground. Her landing left footprints in the dust, but if everything went according to plan the place would be crumbling long before that would become a problem.

The rest of the group slowly drifted to the ground, emerging from the vent one-by-one in a way that almost made Sophie want to laugh. The fear curdling her blood was enough to keep it in her throat, though.

There didn’t seem to be anything in this room besides storage, discarded crates stacked surprisingly aligned, towers reaching up towards the ceiling. Brushing her fingers over the top of a nearby crate, she saw it had a label.

Curious, she tried to read it. Unfortunately, it was either written in ancient elven or some sort of cipher she didn’t understand. Still, she not only wanted to know what was inside, she needed to. If this was something that could be used to create more monsters, it needed to be destroyed.

As she set about opening the case, the others assumed their positions. Dex was already working on something in the corner, hacking the security system so they could monitor the cameras and place them on loop. Biana was near the door with Fitz, who appeared to be mentally scanning the nearby area for thoughts.

She grunted as she pushed the lid open, bracing it on her shoulder as she peered inside. Her stomach squirmed uncomfortably, and she very quickly closed the crate before anyone else could peek inside. She didn’t want them to see that.

This room has got to go, she whispered into the mindbubble, and while she could feel their curiosity, they didn’t push the issue. Wylie only nodded, removing one of his explosives from his pocket and wedging it between a few crates near the center of the room.

We’re clear to move ahead, Fitz said, and Dex seconded him, holding up his modified imparter. It appeared to connect directly into the camera feeds, where he could switch between different cameras and assess their surroundings.

As we move I’ll be placing the cameras each group is near on a loop, but try not to linger; it’s not a guarantee. Sophie nodded, and Dex passed his imparter near the door, which clicked unlocked.

The door pushed open, presumably by the now-invisible Biana, and they all filed out into the hall. It seemed to hit them all then, that this was truly happening; this was high stakes. At any moment they could be caught, but if they succeeded the entire place would hopefully fall on top of itself, burying these horrors permanently.

The halls were all the same murky, metal grey, as though trying to imitate the stone it had been carved from. Faint gouges could be seen in the walls, and the lights were flickering balefire, every few feet another ball of flame was placed, providing inconsistent illumination.

Sophie went left with Biana, Linh, Dex, and Maruca; Fitz went right with Keefe, Tam, Marella, and Wylie. They’d done their best to disperse abilities across the groups, but it still left each one lacking key assets. But that was unavoidable.

Biana--with Sophie’s help--ensured that their group remained visibly undetected, and she was grateful they had practiced moving in sync back home, otherwise, everyone would’ve tripped over each other. Systematically they made their way through the facility, not actively trying to hide evidence they’d been there but not going out of their way to make it obvious. The intention was that the plan would be executed and the place would be falling long before anyone would notice anything, so speed was their true ally.

Each explosive placed had the lump of anticipation in her throat rising steadily higher. This was truly happening. She kept reminding herself that in just an hour this would be over. However it ended, it would be over.

Footsteps sounded off to the side, and the group froze, pressing themselves into the corner of the room. Similar to all the others, it was stacked high with crates and racks of vials nearly up to hip height, organized this time by color. Sophie had placed her explosive underneath one of the vials, clearly visible to anyone who walked into the room.

Now they could hear voices as well, murmuring sharply as they came closer and closer to the room. Sophie could hear Biana’s pained gasps in the mindbubble, exerting extra energy to keep all five of them expertly hidden. Her fingers were clamped around Sophie’s own, nails digging into Sophie’s skin as she shook with the exertion.

There was a window in this particular room, so even a moment's slip could reveal them to the figures they watched stop in front of the glass. She memorized their faces, and could feel the others doing the same. A man with curling black hair and light brown skin, talking to someone much shorter than him, who looked to be no more than a child in a frilly gown, hair tangled and red. They were clearly having an argument of some sort, the girl stomping her foot dramatically.

Please don’t come in here. She wasn’t sure which of them had said it, but they’d all been thinking it. Biana would’ve if all her energy wasn’t going into keeping them invisible.

Is something wrong? Their anxiety must’ve been enough to send the message throughout the entirety of the mindbubble, not just their group, and Keefe’s concern echoed throughout their heads. When he got no response the others started chiming in, which at least meant they weren’t in any immediate danger if they had the luxury of checking in on them.

The nails dug further into her skin as the man outside the door sighed, swiping a keycard and unlocking the door, shoving it open with his shoulder as he continued to scold the girl.

“Absolutely you may not--” he began to say, one foot through the door frame, yet he still hadn’t looked, eyes on the girl. The voices in her head went silent, the adrenaline flooding her system drowning her alive until it was only that man and the explosive on the table, ever so visible.

He began to turn, eyes moving inside the room, door fully open as he stepped in.

The girl screamed. She screamed in frustration and stomped her feet and darted down the hallway, barely avoiding tripping on her elaborate gown.

The man’s attention whipped after her and he snarled something incoherent, stalking briskly after her, the door thudding shut behind him.

He left behind a thick silence, and it took a full thirty seconds before Biana’s grip on her loosened, a faint panting coming from the empty space near her as Biana swayed slightly, leaning heavily on whoever was next to her.

They lingered only a few more seconds, just barely enough for Biana to regain her composure. It was imperative they move on as quickly as possible; they had no clue when that man would be back, but it was certain he would return before they'd blown the building.

As they left she took a brief moment to hide the explosive, somewhere that wouldn’t be so easily visible for when that man returned. It would buy them time, hopefully.

Work quickly, Sophie transmitted, sending the message echoing towards the others. That had been much too close, and her urgency must’ve been obvious because she could feel the others perking up.

She could see her group’s minds lingering on that little girl, the one who’d thrown a tantrum and saved their lives. They’d known, theoretically, that there were people in this building, not just supplies and serums and whatever else created monsters, but they’d reasoned their way through the guilt. Anyone in the building was actively harming the planet and helping produce those creatures in some way; they were all complicit, so the world would be better if it were rid of them. That was something they could deal with if it saved their families, their friends stuck underground as the world above was ravaged.

That little girl was just that: a little girl. She couldn’t have been older than five; she played no part in these deadly games, yet she’d pay the same price.

Sophie hauled them through the hallways, ducking into a particularly shadowed corner away from the balefire light, the rest of her team slightly dazed. Someone's memory of that feisty girl lingered in the mindbubble, a silent question, hesitance. She could feel the other group somewhere else in the facility stop dead at the sight of her, dread tightening their stomachs as their minds cycled through the possibilities. How many just like her were hidden somewhere within these walls, unaware of the horror and grief surrounding them, coating the floors and washing through the halls; how many?

There’s nothing we can do about that right now, she transmitted to everyone, desperately trying to return them to their senses. They couldn’t do anything with everyone in such a state, clouded minds and stumbling limbs, and her panic alongside her upbringing fraught with human horror gave her enough lucidity to be the leading voice of reason. Perhaps they’d abandon the mission--although that was a last resort. They’d already gone to so much trouble--but they couldn’t do anything just standing about, practically begging to be caught.

Their minds sharpened, and someone gave her arm a reassuring squeeze, telling her they were there and they were okay. She exhaled quietly, glancing around anxiously to double-check they’d remained undetected.

Sophie was almost certain she could feel the heavy, fluttering pulses of her friends reverberating through the air as they continued on, jumping at each faint sound. Their near disaster had sombered the group, and they all appeared infinitely more aware of their surroundings, expecting someone to appear any moment.

They weren’t communicating exactly, but when they’d gotten down to their last two explosives she mindlessly reached out into the mindbubble, searching for Fitz and the others. She could feel rather than hear his response, although he seemed to be just as distracted. The others in her own group placed the last two as she scanned the surrounding space for thoughts; they made their way through the halls, peering through windows into the rooms--which were surprisingly abandoned. Apparently, the storage units were not a priority when it came to security.

Or they were guarded by something much more sinister than mere guards. The gouge marks in the walls seemed to leer at her, more ominous than they’d been a moment before.

It turned her stomach, thinking about just how expansive the facility was. It appeared infinite, spanning several stories above and a few below them, each floor impossibly tall and wide. They’d made their way down about two flights, targeting the structural supports of the building so everything would be crushed in the downfall. She intentionally kept herself from thinking about that little girl.

There’s the rendezvous room, Dex said, and Sophie shook herself internally, pulling the group forward. When they’d first come up with the plan, they’d intended to retrace their steps and exit the way they’d come, but it was deemed too high of a risk to sneak back up through the floors of the facility, and they had instead designated the room ahead as a meeting spot. It, too, had large enough vents to crawl through, which eventually made their way to an opening that should allow enough sunlight down for them to leap away with; although, if that didn’t work, they could always work their way through the vents until they’d completely retraced their steps.

Like electricity jolting through water, Fitz reached out to her, giving her a direct line to him to allow her to track his location more easily. The tether between them led to just around the corner up ahead. They were coming from opposite sides, and if you knew exactly what you were looking for you could see a large shadow creeping unnaturally against the wall, so crisp it was practically imperceptible despite her knowing where to look.

Sophie’s group made it to the door first, and Dex’s hands shook slightly as he crouched down to fiddle with the lock. He swiped his imparter across it, but nothing happened. She watched him work through his own eyes, peering through the mindbubble as he let them in. The tension grew as the others caught up to them, Tam’s shadows spreading over them slightly, enough so that Dex could disconnect from the chain, lighting the strain on Biana.

She could see him gnawing slightly at his lip as he tapped on his imparter in quick succession. Someone began breathing deeply and slowly, and she started to scan their surroundings again. Something was wrong, but she couldn’t let them be caught off guard.

Marella shook out her hands, sparks flickering between her fingers, growing with each passing moment that door refused to open. The veins in Wylie’s hands shone for a brief moment as he clenched his fist, the shimmer fading as he relaxed his fingers, glancing around.

There’s a different lock on this door, Dex mumbled, mental voice sounding faintly panicked, as though he were putting effort into sounding in control.

Yeah, no shit, Keefe grumbled, but there was a tension lacing the words that shouldn’t have been there.

Just give me...a...little longer. I think...I’ve got it.

Each pause was accentuated by a small tap as he lost his train of thought, fiddling with the locks. Cold dreaded settled itself in the center of her stomach, reaching dripping tentacles about and curling them around her insides, squeezing tight as the oxygen levels in the room seemed to dip-- and the problem didn’t appear to be the kind she could fix with a few deep breaths.

There was virtually nothing they could do but wait for him to finish, and it was agony to sit there, eyes frantically pacing the gouged walls hoping no one was approaching. Fitz’s mind reached across the mindbubble towards her, and she let him in, pooling their energy together to send pulsing waves of consciousness out around them, searching the nearby areas.

With each pulse that passed over them, the thoughts of their friends flared for a moment before dimming as it passed, but there was no one else nearby. No other flashes of thought near them that they could identify.

Wait.

There.

Fitz made a muffled sound of distress, and she could see the others’ heads snap up towards the both of them.

Shit, they transmitted. Opening their minds, they showed the others what they’d found--or rather, what was about to find them. A few halls away were thoughts, approaching quickly in their direction.

Holy shit they’re close, Biana breathed. And she was right. Normally, they’d be able to detect someone this close clear and simple, but there was a haze over their thoughts that she’d never seen before. It was as though they’d made their thoughts invisible, and she’d only barely been able to see through the deception.

There was nothing to be done about it, however, except fervently hope Dex could open that goddamn door before that person walked around the corner and saw the conglomeration of shadows and a door opening on its own. Which would happen in approximately...thirty seconds.

C’mon, I’m so close, Dex strained, mental voice shaking.

Footsteps echoed just a few moments away, and she began to bounce in place, squeezing her fingers so tight she was surprised the bones didn’t snap.

GOT IT, he cried, wrenching the door open as the lock unlatched. It was a race as everyone scrambled into the room, the footsteps and their hidden thoughts growing closer and closer each second. She couldn’t even think through the adrenaline, her arms shaking so badly there was nothing but the colors in front of her and her goal.

The door clicked shut behind them, just as the person rounded the corner.

They’d made it. Her breath came out in harsh pants, and none of the sounds around her made much sense, but she just couldn’t take her eyes off that door.

FUCK, Tam yelled, and as a force field flickered into place around them, Sophie finally turned around.

To find a room full of various guards, all of whom were staring back, malice and shock glimmering on their faces. But what was even worse were the caged creatures behind them.

Viscous pale syrup dripped from vats spread throughout the room, pulsing with thick spiderwebs of veins and mucous. Her stomach dropped as she tilted her head back to see them more fully, vaguely humanoid but distorted. Limbs stretched out like sticky candy, skin close to wreaking, appendages ending in blunt bone creeping its way out of the body. Hair floated around them in the thick substances, matted and black and shining.

They seemed dormant, but their appendages twitched in time to their thunderous heartbeat, sending waves throughout their liquid enclosures.

That was all she had the chance to see before the guards closest to them pulled out their melders.

Everything seemed to be moving at twice the speed it was supposed to be, throwing her completely off her rhythm.

Maruca stood in front of them, arms spread wide as she held a force-field around them all, Biana had let go of her, choosing to spend her energy in a fight rather than vanishing them, and it was as they broke contact that she realized just how much of her energy Biana had taken.

She swayed on her feet for a brief moment, casting out her mind and trying to get a sense of how many there were in this room that appeared infinite.

Rows of vats spread farther than she could see, although not all seemed to be occupied. None of them should’ve been. They’d gone out of their way to ensure they’d stay far away from any creatures, no matter the potential benefits. There was nothing that could be done against them.

Maruca grunted as pangs clattered against the force field, trying to find a way through. Sophie’s breathing quickened as she realized she couldn’t feel the presence of anyone in the room. It was although she was entirely alone. She couldn’t feel Fitz next to her, or anyone under the force field, and she couldn’t detect anyone outside of it.

There was an ominous silence, despite the shouts of the people around her. Security personnel were murmuring into communication devices, alerting others of a “disturbance in sector 34, room B12.” But no one in her group said a word. They’d learned not to. They spoke in the mindspace however, hysterical and screaming.

This was not the room they were supposed to be in.

There was nothing they could do as warning lights began to flash around them, strobing effects searing her eyes as alarm bells tolled, shrill and vibrating.

It couldn’t have been more than five seconds since they’d walked through that door.

She steeled herself, drawing on that knot of power she kept stored beneath her ribs, feeling the energy channel from her chest towards her head, building and building until almost painful. But she couldn’t release it. She couldn’t attack through the force field, and Maruca couldn’t drop it because then those melders would hit them head-on and they couldn’t withstand that.

Everyone else was in a similar predicament.

Then it got worse.

She didn’t think it could get worse.

How could it get worse?

The creature in the tank seemed to be reacting to either the lights or the sounds--it didn’t really matter which. What mattered was that it was moving; it was opening its gaping maw and screaming within that tank, air bubbles shooting their way towards the ceiling and lingering, a never-ending stream as its body began to buck and thrash sporadically, sharp limbs colliding with glass.

The cylindrical vat cracked, a spiderweb of broken veins spreading from the point of impact, growing with each collision as it began pounding against the glass.

The muffled sounds it made were absolutely horrible, and she slapped her palms over her ears, grimacing. But what truly stopped her heart was the sound of falling glass, wet and raining down, clattering about and bouncing off the force field.

Because now the creature was loose.

The figures who had been attacking them now swore, looking back and forth between each other before darting out of the room; their weapons still raised despite them being little threat beneath their bubble.

The door latched behind them, and Sophie seemed to come to the horrifying reality at the same time as the others.

They had no way out of this room.

SCATTER! Maruca screamed as she dropped the force field, and everyone complied, darting around the room, trying to get out of the way, hoping hoping hoping that creature wasn’t the exceptionally violent kind, and that it would leave them alone.

All of the creatures they’d encountered so far had been aggressive in some way or another--some simply left you alone unless you got close, others would attack on sight. They’d started a notebook to keep track of all the kinds they knew about, but this one was entirely new.

The only solace that could be found was that it seemed to be the only one that escaped its tank, the others appearing undisturbed.

Watching it from behind a stack of crates, Sophie could see it growing more and more agitated, banging its appendages against what seemed to be its head in distress, a warbled screech piercing the air as it began to flail about.

She ducked at the distinct sound of tables and boxes being crushed as the creature stumbled, tearing at the ground. She began to frantically search the room, looking for something--anything--that could help them at all. There had to be another exit, there had to be something they could do.

Her eyes met Keefe’s across the room, and for the strangest moment, she wasn’t concerned about the creature killing them all, or the guards capturing them and holding them hostage, or their explosives going off when they were still in the building. She was just worried he could feel her panic and it would be too overwhelming for him to concentrate.

Wait.

That was it.

Her mind clicked the pieces together and she sank to the floor, pressing her back against the shelves embedded in the wall behind her, putting her fingers to her temples. The creature was overwhelmed and overstimulated, and it was reacting poorly. She’d never tried to communicate with or inflict on any of the creatures before...but she’d never had a reason to.

She just hoped it would work.

Using that gathered energy, she reached out towards the creature, a mental hand fumbling in the dark. But it appeared she couldn’t...find it. There was just...nothingness...wherever she reached.

Opening her eyes slightly, she squinted up at the creature, which was still stumbling around in response to the overstimulation. The visual helped her narrow in on its mind, and as she reached for it she began to realize... its mind was the silence. She hadn’t been able to detect the mind of the people in the room or her friends because this creature’s mind was so incredibly silent; it broadcasted a blanket over everyone nearby.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING, someone hissed into the mindbubble. But she was so far gone that it barely registered as more than a gentle, far-off whisper.

Desperately trying to control herself, Sophie began bringing forward peaceful, calmer memories; she had to reach further back than she’d expected; life hadn’t been particularly relaxing as of late. Finally, when her head seemed to overflow with calming vibes, she sent them out like a shockwave around her, a ripple in the empty.

Anyone paying even the slightest bit of attention could identify the exact moment the wave hit the creature. Its spine went rigid, snapping straight as its head jerked up, their gazes meeting. Each noise fizzled out in the same instant. No one dared breath in that poignant silence, the space almost empty now, and for the briefest moment, she wished that it weren’t so empty, so quiet.

Her wish was answered.

There was no warning as the creature’s head cocked to the side, staring her down with those empty, glistening black eyes, no warning as it lunged towards her.

Well FUCK, was the only thought in her head as it careened towards her, stumbling as though it’d only learned to walk that day, which it might have.

Its movements were uncoordinated, but that didn’t make them any less violent as the tables around them crashed into each other as it crashed onto all limbs, moving with such speed it could cross the room in less than a blink.

She couldn’t move. She couldn’t think. Her friends were screaming, but she couldn’t make a sound. Her eyelids were fluttering shut as that suffocating silence pressed in closer and closer.

The creature was charging straight towards her and she couldn’t think. It lost its balance, coming down hard on top of her, but its limbs were too long to crush her, and instead, it was crashing into the shelves behind her and crushing glass and breaking rock and its own bones and she. Couldn’t. Think.

Crystal shattered behind her as the shelves were wrenched from the walls, the creature desperately trying to right itself, shrieking that inhuman sound. Vials began to rain down behind her, crashing on the hard floor.

The noxious scents of the spilling bottles began to flood the room, visible gases blooming from where the colors mixed, sizzling and bubbling on the floor. The creature bucked its head, scrambling away, limbs bashing the floor as it dashed far, far away into the hollows of the room.

The silence was back, but this time it was accompanied by fumes and watering eyes as everyone pushed to their feet, stumbling and coughing.

We havetoget...Dex began, eyeing the frothing liquids….out ofhere. He was standing so far away. How had he gotten there? She might’ve been nodding her head, agreeing with him, but without the adrenaline, everything was...so slow...and the floor seemed liquid and plush.

She couldn’t see who began coughing, their whole body wracked in a fit as the vapors became so thick she couldn’t see. It occurred to her too late to try holding her breath, her eyelids fluttering as she stumbled a few steps, but she didn’t actually know where she was going.

A thud sounded behind her, and she turned, the room seeming to lag as she did so. Biana. It had been...Biana. She’d made the sound. Her body was crumpled on the ground, unconscious. That should’ve sent a spike of alarm through her, telling her to move. To go. Get out.

But she couldn’t think. And the others quickly followed, a series of thuds echoing throughout the space as one by one, they succumbed to the fumes.

Sophie was still standing, and she briefly made eye contact with Dex--why was he so far--watching him fumble with his imparter. An explosive rumbling sounded in the distance, growing stronger and closer with each moment her eyes remained open. She was upright only long enough to see Dex fall before she felt her muscles give, and she crashed down hard.

Wings AU Taglist:

@loudnerdfest @rainbowtay-11 @cadence-talle @pyrokinetic-loser @ahecktonoffandomsinoneblog @itstiger720 @loverofallthingssmart  @cowboypossume @jolieharkness @wings-of-hell-and-beyond @shellyseashell @blossomjenniie  @imaramennoodle @booknerdddddd @akotlcblog

[aenwoedbeannaa]

A Dying Breed | Sneak Peek

Summary: Your medallion hangs around your neck, the Cat putting a target on your back.  Even among Witchers, you are a dying breed.  Everyone knows that men can be monsters; and yet they persecute you for taking on Contracts to kill them.  When you run into a certain Geralt of Rivia one evening, you are ready for the fight of your life.  But, maybe, it is not exactly the fight you expect.

A/N: This is just a quick sneak peek of this monster of a fic.  I don’t want to post it in chapters, because I want to make sure you all get the full story.  Still, it’s been so long since I’ve posted, I wanted to give y’all something.  I hope you enjoy! (Also, let me know if you’re excited for this - hopefully it is something you’ll be interested in.)

The School of the Cat – the most infamous of the Witcher Schools.  It is said by many that none survived; that the school and its corrupt and evil Witchers was destroyed.  Most of your colleagues were dead, true.  But you – you are very much alive.  

Silent and quick like a storm, you could creep in and kill a target and be gone before anyone knew you were there.  The fact that many of those targets happened to be human was the reason for your alienation from Witchers and humans alike.  That was, until you were needed to depose some corrupt noble or other.  

Humans can be monsters, too.

The words rang in your ears every time you crept silently through the night like this.  They were words taught to you by the older, more experienced Witchers of the Cat School.  That statement was undoubtably true, and yet you were warned time and time again that because of them, you would have no friends outside of the School of the Cat. Witchers from the other schools would view you was breaking the Code, and humans would only befriend you so long as they needed you.  

The solitude had not been so bad at first.  In fact, you came to treasure it.  However, the solitude turned more and more to loneliness as word travelled, bringing you the information that another, then another, of your fellow Cat School Witchers had been killed.  Despite the fact that you had not seen most of them in years, each death cut another hole in your heart, leaving you feeling empty.  Now, you truly had no home to return to, for the School of the Cat had no grand keep.  The School of the Cat was wherever its Witchers were – and now, there were so very few of you left.  

You push the thoughts from your head as you creep over damp stones, being sure to tuck yourself against the sides of buildings, hiding yourself in their shadows.  The shadows were your home – where you feel safe.  No one can hurt you if you just stay in the shadows, which move and vanish like living things.  

Tentatively, you lean out, peering around the corner of the building you are using for cover. You can see the manor not far off. Unlike a country manor, which seem to sprawl endlessly, taking up as much land as possible, this Novigradian manor is built right into the city. Instead of taking up the land, it seems to stack atop itself repeatedly.  Instead of grand gardens, there are balconies draped with ivy and flowers.  Instead of rich wood, the walls are brick – all different shades of red and brown, a mosaic.  

Unfortunately, there are candles ensconced on nearly every balcony – no doubt to show off the vibrant flora even in the evening hours.  The lanterns hanging near each doorway bother you less, however.  You were not planning on entering that way anyhow. The School of the Cat taught you many important lessons – but one of the most important is that there are far, far more effective ways of entering a building than sneaking through a doorway. A house made of brick was excellent for climbing, after all.

From where you are standing, you let your eyes scan the aggressively beautiful exterior.  Your blood boils at the thought of the man inside living in undeserved luxury while there were beggars in rags on the streets. With that anger comes a rush of adrenaline.  After you are done here, there will be one less slimy noble taking advantage of all those with less than him, using them like pawns to climb to the top of Novigrad’s crime scene by night while playing the wholesome successful merchant by day.

You spot a few places that are still cloaked in shadow.  The parts of the large home facing the street are lavishly decorated and lit to show it off, but the sides that are not so wonderfully situated are dark. How foolish, you think as you flutter across the street.  You light the front of your homes to signal your wealth, leaving the back completely unguarded. Granted, most of the Novigrad gangs knew to stay away from the man.  But certainly, he must know he has enemies who could hire someone more… capable.  

Your feet fall silently on the still wet cobbles.  It rained earlier, bringing cooler, crisper air that signals the coming Autumn.  The change in the air is pleasant on your skin, even beneath your leathers and hood, but the rain is going to make your climb significantly harder than it would otherwise be.  There is no winning in this life.

As you near the house, making sure to remain cloaked in shadow, something in the air changes. You call it your sixth sense – your Witcher sense.  You have not heard a sound, even with your enhanced hearing, and yet the hair at the back of your neck stands on end.  Someone is close; someone is following.  

You sigh as both irritation and resignation wash over you.  You do not want to fight.  More specifically, you do not want to kill anyone except the man with the Contract on him. But, now that you begin to walk in a slightly zigzag path, you can hear nearly silent footfalls behind you – starting and stopping as you do.  

It is one of Ettrian’s cronies, you assume.  For that, you give the man credit. Silent guards that creep through the night are more effective than the ones who stand with rarely used weapons out front of the main entryway.  Your hands find the two daggers strapped to your thighs – one steel and one silver.  Your silver sword is not slung across your back now.  That, you only use for the non-human kind of monsters.  The daggers, slightly longer and more curved than ordinary daggers, are much better for this type of work.  

You breathe in slowly as you draw both from their sheaths, still reluctant.  Sure, any crony of Ettrian is most likely a whoreson, but still – people do what they must to get by.  But still, you wonder where a Novigradian crime boss could get a bodyguard as swift and silent as this one.  You have to focus, straining your ears to hear the steps behind you. You rarely have to do that.  

Unless…

The thought crashes against your skull as your heart rate quickens, it is a Witcher.