#Kinda counts as cannibalism. Sorry not sorry | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yorsgirl · 7 months ago

Note

Yan!Heian!Sukuna and with Y/N?

Lately, whenever Darling got pregnant she ended up having countless miscarriages, the longest lasting at least 3 months, Sukuna began to suspect these countless coincidences.

He doesn't care about these losses since he didn't want to share Y/N with some brat, but he found it very strange that every time she got pregnant resulted in a miscarriage, so he started investigating and finally found out why this was happening.

He discovered that Y/N was causing her own miscarriages, as she knew that the last thing the world needed was Sukuna's descendants, so he finally confronts her but with that damn psychological terror that he loves to do to her.

Oh my, I love love love this idea!!

I kinda went out on this one, but I hope I did justice to what you were aiming at. Hope you like it :) Also I am sorry for being so late

Playing God

Yandere!Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: It was a gamble, he was willing to make. To keep you with him, forever, as he wanted. Needed. You had to realize that no other heaven except his arms would be comforting. Even if that meant, breaking your very soul.

Tropes: Dark Romance, horror, angst

Warnings: Implied nsfw(forced), mentions of pregnancy, miscarriage, abduction, cannibalism and isolation. Trauma, mild stockholm syndrome, yandere themes, minor character death(s), gore, gaslighting, manipulation, misogyny, blood, degradation(non-kinky), patriarchal society, unhealthy relationship, implied child birth.

General warnings: Yandere!True form!Husband!Sukuna, Wife!Reader, Heian Era, both Sukuna and reader are a red flag on their own, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.

Word Count: 9.7k

You were digging your own grave.

So you shouldn't have been surprised that your wish would be granted. Yet, if you could have one wish then you'd wish for freedom but no- freedom was a forfeited dream, far beyond your reach. Consideration of that one would never be fruitful. You are trapped even in your dreams.

Playing with fire only gets you burnt.

For long, you played this game and this- this was your compensation. For everything you had done until now, all you are returned with was abandonment. Not that supposedly, betrayal, yes. More appropriate.

Flames surrounded you, crawling up your skin, the screams piercing your ears, your chest heaved up and down. Gaze, once settled on your hearth, now all you saw was the burning hut, the crackling of embers reached your ears. Attire and hands stained with blood of the insolent. The warning shouldn't have been taken lightly. Should have known, the extent of his power.

Eyes held terror, fright, regret- whatever you could name. The multitude of names you received seemed no more than a distant dream, nowhere to be found. All were running away - expectable.

You expected calamity, but you were calm.

Everything went down in flames. Save for you, you weren't burning. Not an spark touched your skin. Was it the distance or the control? Who knows. But one confirmation which you held was that tonight you won't die. Not so soon either.

Careful, not all Gods are worshipped.

The words rang in your ears and as if on cue, you found him again.

In this reverie of madness, he held your sight when you attempted to turn - the eyes tinted with crimson.

"I am sorry for your loss, m'lady."

You had seen it all.

You had your fair share of encounters, received news and such. Women losing their mind and sanity after delivered with a news this devastating. Notably, no woman would feel any bliss after knowing that they had lost their child. Lost the chance of motherhood before experiencing it. Violent outbursts was the most probable outcome.

"This is a hard time," The midwife spoke softly. "Yet, you shouldn't neglect your health."

You perceived the softness to be fear. She must have had dealt with situations like these, most of them traumatizing as you assumed. Perhaps, she expected the same from you too.

You tore your gaze off her, leaning back on your bedframe, "I'd like to be left alone."

Your declaration was answered with compliance. Offering a humble bow, she bid you farewell, walking out of your chambers. Once her footsteps seized, you finally let your guard down. Breathing out a sigh of relief, you laid back down on your bed.

"Good riddance," You muttered to yourself. Moments of such vulnerability wasn't rare, considering you were served with loneliness, lately. Save for the times you spent in the presence of Sukuna. His decree, one might say. Your attention shouldn't be wasted on anyone but him. You scoffed recalling his words. Involuntarily, you stroked your belly, the corner of your lip curled up.

Once a house to life, given by your husband; now lay vacant from your doing.

A twisted sense of pride swelled up in your chest, a wide grin stretching on your face. You were successful in your quest, again. Mercilessly, you uprooted the seed of your husband's lineage.

Perhaps, you've truly gone sick.

Yet, this revolt of feelings were miles lesser than the repugnant you encountered when you realized your first pregnancy. You were on the brink of clawing out the creature growing in your womb. You'd have torn it apart with while revelling in the joy of watching its blood drip down on the face of Earth. If not for Sukuna's presence in the room, you might've gone through it.

You lost a fragment of yourself, that day.

Throwing up countless times, dizziness, nausea, even losing your consciousness while walking down. No, they weren't pregnancy side effects. More so, the outcome of the stress accumulating in you.

Sickening. His kin you'd have cradled in your body. To be born and grow up into a revolting, merciless creature like his father. To take up place in your womb, your flesh and blood and combining with his – a living proof of your plight. Disgusting.

Never. You'd never let that happen.

You'd never succumb to such monstrosity.

You had already given up your freedom, your dignity, your alight life to Sukuna in exchange of the lives you held dear. The lives back in your ancestral village, home to your kin.

You were affirmed. An heir of Ryomen Sukuna would never be birthed from you.

Speak of the devil, he appears.

An overwhelming familiar aura surrounded your very being, the doors to your chamber slid open, your captor, your husband strolled inside. Even his mere presence held the malevolence in him. You attempted to rise from your position at his arrival.

"Sit." He commanded.

You silently obeyed his order, keeping your gaze settled on your lap, the energy had your stomach churning with trepidation; at times when you didn't do anything either. And this time, you were guilty. Two moments passed in silence until he spoke.

"I heard from the midwife."

You took in a sharp breath, swallowing a lump in your throat. It was the same ordeal, like the first two times. Yet, you were a tad bit calm since the previous encounters. Probably, due to the fact you were getting used to this role. In this past moons, you had developed into the wife, he was carving you out to be. Giving him just the reactions he wanted, for that saved you a lot of anguish and pain. Even if it came at the price of your self-respect. This was the only way.

With your head hung low, you spoke, "Forgive me, my lord. I am incapable of bearing you an heir. I-It must have been my fau-"

"Not another word."

You instantly stiffened up, his deep voice causing chills to run down your spine. Did you make an error? Was he aware of your tumultuous acts? Was the play not convincing enough?

He held your chin, forcing you to look up at him. All of his four, red eyes bore into you. You bit on your inner cheek, blood coursing in your veins - steadfast.

They say, your fear start to vanish once you've remained in the source of their vicinity too long. That statement is false. For even after staying with your captor for almost two years, you still held your fear.

"The one at fault bore consequences."

That's when you were hit with the faint stench of blood from him. Another one perished. You took the wild guess of it being the midwife. However, instead of amplifying fright, it was lessened. You wouldn't be on the receiving end of his wrath.

"You aren't at fault, wife."

Oh, but you were.

Sukuna held your gaze, cupping your cheek; the rough pad of his thumb trailed a line on your skin. His tone and grip were surprisingly gentle. "There's no need to apologize."

The corners of your eyes crinkled down, you lean into his touch. You assume, it's a good move as you noted the flicker of emotion in his eyes. "It's the third time, my lord. Perhaps, I bear some shortcomings."

"What nonsense," He rolled his eyes. "There's none, not in my eyes. Don't fill your head with such fickle thoughts." He paused for a moment before continuing, "Is that understood?"

He wasn't one for affirmations but maybe- just maybe it was his attempt at comfort, you supposed. The previous losses must had him learning, the threads of condolence. Still, for you, they'd never mean anything less than empty words. The last thing you wanted was to be comforted by your tormentor. You'd rather step into hell willingly.

But you were living under his wing. You have to play according to his whims. You nodded. "Yes, my lord."

His hand left your face, dropping to his thigh. He looked at you, as if sizing you up. You had to keep yourself from making any unnecessary movements. Sukuna wanted you composed, whatever the situation. (Except the times when he bedded you, you were allowed to scream, cry and thrash around then. Cause you were trapped under his immense strength, struggles were futile).

After a while, he asked, "Any wishes?"

You chewed on your bottom lip, eyes flickering down then back to him. You let out a breath, before continuing. "May I visit the shrine... this evening?"

Silence.

You were contemplating whether you had offended him, somehow. Previously, he did allow for your little trips, you wondered if his patience was running thin cause of your repeated incapability of bearing him an heir. Maybe, you ran out of luck.

You were about to mutter an apology but then a smug grin spread across his lips, "Why so?" He asked.

"To-" You swallowed a lump, preparing to answer the practiced dialogue. "To offer prayers for–"

"Why grieve for someone who didn't even take form?" He cut you up, raising an eyebrow. For a tad moment, he sounded curious. It broke into a cruel chuckle, "You humans would make a funeral out of anything, yes?"

If you held an ounce of sympathy then you wouldn't question.

You wanted to say but you knew better. Besides, you still have to keep up the act of being his loyal wife. Heaving a out a deep breath, you replied, "I suppose." You paused, running the tip of your tongue over your lip.

"I'd pray that I can bear you an heir the next time, my lord."

Nay, more so: I'd pray that you receive your end soon, my lord.

Sukuna watched you. No, not look. He watched, like a predator. Then, his lips cracked into a sinister grin. "You've a way with your words, wife."

It caught you off guard. You raised an eyebrow, attempting to voice out your confusion. "What do-"

"I will accompany you."

"Sukuna sama, the herbalist you asked for, has arrived."

Sukuna spared a glance at Uraume, who knelt by his feet.

"Bring him."

As on cue, they rose up from their stance, pivoting around towards the door. It parted, two curses had a man in their grasp as he struggled to break free. His eyes widening with terror when it fell on the King, sitting atop his throne.

The man was pushed down to his knees, face meeting the floor in a loud slam. His scuffles were in vain against such power, he knew that. Still, in a situation of life and death, rationality takes it's leave.

Sukuna clicked his tongue in annoyance. All he wanted was some herbalist to answer the flurry of questions in his which had him restless for the past few days. Did this scum think he'd be killed? Maybe he would be, if he deems it necessary or he proves to be useless.

What had him restless was your miscarriages. Counting the most recent would make it a fourth. Where did he go wrong? You were kept in utmost luxury, no toils whatsoever. Still, what was wrong?

—》《—

"Perhaps, there's some faults in her highness."

"Keep your voice down, Mira. Someone may hear you."

"I am a lot quite... but tell me, don't you find it strange? How come she has lost all of her children?"

"I- I suppose. Perhaps, motherhood is not written in her fate."

"Or so, she's simply incapable."

—》《—

Safe to say, those were the last words they uttered before they were turned into a mash of flesh and blood.

Sliced into pieces that even trying to make a proper corpse out of the remnants weren't possible.

At times, Sukuna wished he held the power to bring back someone to life. Then maybe, he'd have given those servants a death, more worthy. Maybe, ripping out their limbs, piece by piece. First the bones would break, ripped from the ligaments, then it'd be the muscles; that was easy to just tear out. And after that happened, he could have just sewn up the blobs of flesh again and repeat the process until they learn their lesson or the life leaves them again.

He deduced the latter would be more probable. Still, it would be fine. They deserved that.

Speaking ill of you in his palace, in his vicinity, in his world was prohibited. A sin, in the words of humans. And a sin never goes unpunished.

You - his consort, his queen, you were heavenly. There isn't a fault in you, it's some external factor, must be. But he can't let go of his growing suspicion either.

Sukuna detested children, it was a known fact. Always ending their lives first, whenever he set foot in a village. They were of no use to him, unless they were served to him on his platter. He couldn't deny, their flesh was flavourful.

Even though, he held great disdain for them, he couldn't help but desire a kinship with you. With the price of letting go of your undivided attention? Hmm, doesn't sound too great. He assumed, he can hire a wet nurse just in case. Still, he desired to see you round with his child, feet swollen as you struggled to walk around. You do not have to worry, he, your husband would joyfully oblige in carrying you in his arms. You were more than perfect, he couldn't even imagine just how beautiful you'll look, during and after carrying your child.

It was destined. You'd extend his lineage or no one else.

You were flawless then why were you causing such errors? Contradicting. It was his question until he started to take a note in your behaviour, and he found–

Sukuna stood up from his throne, walking down the steps of bones, presumably of the ones he killed. They act as a pretty show piece, according to him.

The court resonated with his footsteps, each one carrying a promise of death. The man's struggles seized once he was harshly pulled up by his hair, his eyes met with Sukuna's.

"Yo-your high–ness," The man fumbled with his words, a spine chilling sensation going down his frame.

"Time's wasting," Sukuna said, his glare pointed. The fury evident, though his exterior was calm. "Comply if you don't wish death."

The man nodded frequently, his fingertips trembled with anticipation and horror. "Ye-yes, your highness. It's an honour to s-serve you." The man fell to his feet as he was dropped. Sukuna dismissed the extra company with a wave of his hand.

"Rise," He declared.

The man still on his knees, raises his head. "What can I- I do for you, your highness?"

—》《—

"May I make a request, my lord?"

Sukuna's eyes flickered to you, yours not meeting his. Knelt before him, you gracefully poured the sake in his ochoko.

"Speak."

He marked the squinting in your irises, fingertips trembled when you put the vessel down. Your shoulders rose and fell before you gazed at him, reluctantly. He couldn't help but find your antics inhumanely amusing.

"Would you be kind enough... to bring me this-" You paused for a fleeting moment. "This herb called... aloe vera?"

—》《—

"Aloe vera," Sukuna tilted his head aside, the upper pair of arms crossed over his chest. "What use does it have?"

"We-well, my lord it's used for heal-healing purposes, burns, cuts, rashes... it heals injuries, yes." He answered, taking a gulp. There was other uses too yet his head was alike a blank canvas, before such a formidable strength. He wasn't even aware if it was satisfactory or why the King of Curses needed to know about such a measly plant. But if it meant he could see the sun for another day then he'll just give whatever he could offer. "I-It can also be used to– to make me-medicated food. N-not a delicacy... I might add."

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, "That's it?"

"N-no, my lord. There- it can cure diges-"

"In pregnancy."

The man stiffened, his mouth parting a tad bit. A whisper leaving his lips, "Yo-your highness...?"

Pregnancy, menstruation, considered taboo. A matter regarding women, spoken in the inner chambers, the men should remain ignorant. A topic whispered in ears not spoken aloud in any hall, let alone the royal court. Certainly, Sukuna was aware of this societal construct, yet he didn't care. The society and its idiotic rules could go to hell. He just needed answers.

"Speak," Sukuna's voice was louder, deeper when the man before him fidgeted in his spot due to discomfort - on speaking such a topic.

"It-Its a... your highness, I d-don't think you-"

"Insolent bastard," His fumbling was interrupted by Sukuna. The warning evident in his profanity. His face grew darker, the four irises glowing with impending danger akin Satan himself. "If you so much as want to live, fucking speak."

The man's blood ran cold as on cue, face turning a shade paler as if winter had started to pool in. Tears prickled the corners of his eyes, "Forgive me, your highness! I will speak, I will- yes- aloe vera its-" He heaved out a deep breath, an attempt to slow down his beating heart. "Any fo-form of it is ill-suited during pregnancy... it can cause... cause pe-pelvic haemorrhage leading to... to misc-"

"Miscarriage?"

"Yes, miscarriage... can lead to miscarriage, your highness."

A profound silence prevailed. Not a soul spoke neither was a footstep heard. Not a leaf rustled or the howling winds tapped on the window pane - assumed, mother nature had halted its elements from making any noise.

The stakes were high yet an flicker of courage alighted in the man as he raised his head up to glance at Sukuna, "My lor-"

The man's head tumbled down before he could even complete.

He couldn't scream, he couldn't beg, he couldn't apologize, he couldn't even blink. All he could do was watch. Watch as his beheaded body fell limp before his eyes. Watch as the blood poured out like waterfalls staining the carpet with its hues. The red marred bones protruded out amidst the flesh, globs of blood was gushing out of his severed voice box. His body jerked, the remnants of conscious nerves trying to survive.

It was a neat cut. A heavenly sight.

The world started to blur in. And before he knew it, the light was gone from his eyes.

Sukuna didn't even spare a glance as he marched out of his court.

Uraume approached the body, a few maids accompanying them. They casted a disapproving glare at the corpse.

"Not edible, dispose of it."

You didn't see or hear from Sukuna for a week.

He didn't visit your chambers at night neither was he present when you sat down for your meals. Even his energy was alike a hushed whisper which would remind you of his presence in the residence, but not reveal himself to you. For some reason, it had you in an unease.

No, you certainly did not miss his presence. But his absence just made the surroundings almost suffocating. There was the looming threat that something had happened or something were to happen. One worse than the other.

Silence was never uneventful.

Insinuating the courage, you had once inquired Uraume about his absence. Presenting a polite bow, they answered, "Sukuna sama doesn't want to be disturbed."

Disturbed... as if he wasn't the cause of all disturbances. A natural disaster in himself. You resisted the urge to scoff and uttered a meek line of gratitude before going about your day. (That extended with you strolling down the halls or garden or just be in your chambers and read the few books Sukuna had bought you).

On the very same day the dark commenced. While you were mesmerized by the fall of twilight over the garden, you heard his voice.

"Don't you love playing with poison, wife?"

The sudden question made you halt your steps, you weren't even aware that he was present–shielded his aura, presumably. You turned around, raising an eyebrow with bewilderment.

"Pardon, my lord?"

Sukuna snorted, walking up to you, a smirk played on his lips. You had to make the effort of tilting your head to gaze up at him. His towering figure loomed over you, his lower left hand snaking around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"You love poisons, don't you? Or in your words herbs."

Your shoulders grew rigid, eyes widening with realization, a sharp breath hitting your throat. Your fingertips trembled with anticipation. You were sure to be discreet in your affairs, using the isolation he subjected you to at its best. Yet he knew. It was bad. Very much so. And what were to happen now? What would he do to you?

Another night of horror where your screams would be unheard, your resistance proved to be futile, where you'd be left to suffer alone, where another shard of your remaining soul would be plunged by him. Another night where you'd again play into his whims... Or something more vile, leaving you physically disabled? Perhaps, even death...

The foremost was the most heinous one. You silently prayed that he wouldn't resort to that. If you were to be subjected to his torment then you wished he'd just kill you, liberating you for once and for all. Even so, survival is what the mind wants. Piecing through any tactic just to live another day. The play for now should be denial.

Sukuna's affections for you worked as a double edged sword. You aimed to take advantage of it, in every way possible. You instilled a bit of courage, standing your ground, you spoke "I don't understand what you're trying to instigate, my lord."

He looked down on you, a coy smile uplifting his lips. He threaded his fingers through the knot of your kimono, leaning down next to your ear, he inhaled your scent. His lips brushing over your neck.

"I do not believe so, wife." He murmured, his warm breath hitting your skin, a range of goosebumps rising over your arm. "In fact, I think you clearly know, what I speak about."

Before you could let a word out, he straightened up, turning around, he pushed you to walk with him. His large hand still covering your back.

"Come, let me entertain you."

You were walking to the gallows.

Not literally, but you were sure your end was near.

The wooden floors creaked with footfalls. Each step heavier than the previous. You hesitantly glimpsed at Sukuna, his gaze was far ahead. Not a word left his mouth in this while. Only his hold remained firm. He pushed you forward every moment your step faltered.

Your breath hitched when you turned a corner - the right wing. A rule, you could say. Sukuna made it clear since the day he held you captive brought you home – never step a foot in the right wing. Despair drowned your curiosity that time, you didn't question, least bothered to. Even later, you didn't dare to defy him; courtesy to the pain you were subjected to once.

Still, you could make the wild guess of what happened in there. The muffled screams kept you awake at midnight, it was easy to put the puzzle pieces together. There he revelled with the sick pleasure of tormenting your kind.

He stopped before a pair of oak doors. That's when he glanced at you, for the first time in a long while. For a moment, he stared at you with an emotion you couldn't decipher. The next moment, he pulled out the Kanzashi from your hair, letting your strands tousle down.

You flinched, pushing away the curls which clouded your vision. Sukuna held the pin in his hand, holding your gaze. He was unmoving.

What happened to him?

"My lord," You called. "What are you-"

"Stay quiet," He handed you the kanzashi back, adjusting your hand to hold it as if it were a dagger. Turning to the door, he spared you a glance. "Don't speak a word." With that, the doors opened.

Dark.

It was dark save for the light of the lantern which illuminated the room. He shoved you forward, the door locking behind as he stood aside you.

"One bite."

Huh? Bite? What did he mean? You slightly turned your head towards him but you were stopped in your tracks. It wasn't only you and Sukuna in this room, seems you had a guest. More appropriate word? A Captive.

Your eyes were wide open. On the corner of the room, sat a young boy, not more than a adolescent - blindfolded. Restrained by chains, his wrists and ankles were cuffed with metal. A small whimper left his lips as he registered the presence of both of you.

You were about to speak but then his words rang in your mind.

Don't speak a word.

Sukuna gripped your wrist, leading you to the boy, "One bite, in the arm."

He wasn't talking to you. To the boy, he kept his eyes. You marked how the boy flinched. The metals clanking on contact.

He turned to you then, motioning to the pin in your hand then the boy's arm. Realization hit you. You tried to shake your head, refuse; but one glare of his and you were compelled. Reluctantly, you turned around, trudging to the boy.

Something was wrong.

You could feel it. Why... why would he want you to stab this poor boy? A picture of misery, he was. You noted he didn't have any sign of bruises in his body - peculiar. Yet, his fragile state was enough to give you a hint that he had been here for days. Perhaps, starved too. The tension was high and all you wanted was to leave this room, in an instant.

Fine, if Sukuna wanted you to just stab the boy. You'd do it. Missing the vital points which could end his life. One, he said. You'll miss the point and done. Its not upon you that you'd pierce the wrong place. His instructions weren't specific—that'd be your excuse.

He won't die. Not from your hands.

You gently held the boy's arm, angling the pointers on the muscles. You drove it in.

Miscalculation.

The boy's body instantly stiffened, a gut wrenching scream erupted from his mouth. He thrashed around, swinging his legs and arms, his body twitching violently.

You recoiled back soon, yanking out the pin, stepping away on instinct. You watched with terror.

Foam rose up the boy's mouth, his shrieks pierced your eardrums. The fluid dripped down his jaw, marring his clothes. He clutched the area where you stabbed him. Scratching at it with all his might. The sound of flesh ripping filled your ears as the boy ruthlessly, tore the muscles.

You were stunted. You couldn't speak or move. You weren't chained but you felt as if a thousand shackles bore you down.

The next seconds were a blur. The screams started to die down, his body losing it's color. Sooner than you could grasp, did the room turn silent again.

The boy was dead.

"Enjoyed the show, wife?"

You slapped your hand over your mouth, stumbling a few steps back. You couldn't tear your eyes off the young boy, bile rose up your throat as the room started to spin.

"Wh-what did you-"

No- you couldn't throw up, whatever second thought it was, it refrained you from crumbling to your knees and make a mess. Shivers went down your spine, you struggled to stand straight. The stench of the corpse and the expunging liquids started to fill your nostrils. You were almost on the verge to lose consciousness.

"What... did you do?"

Your eyes flickered to Sukuna. He stood tall, not a sign of emotion on his mien. You regret ever considering mirth to the worst feature on him, cause none was more terrifying.

And he was watching you.

It reminded you of the time, you first saw him - covered with blood of the lives he had taken, down the river bank. Victim of naivety and ignorance, you didn't know any better than to not let him see you. Wandering towards the peculiar beast, even when a gut wrenching terror asked you to run; you were stubborn. You had asked - are you alright?

"What did you do?" You repeated again.

Tilting his head, he kept his unwavering gaze fixed on you. "As a matter of fact, I didn't do anything, wife." He paused, letting the horror shadow your features, "It was all you."

You needed to run.

The kanzashi– which was till then clasped in your hand firmly– fell down. A clank, you heard.

One step.

One step towards the door. He is standing afore you, the fingers of his upper right arm ran through your open hair, tangling in the roots, he yanked your head back.

"I don't remember, giving you the permission to leave."

Tears prickled your eyes as you tried to break free. Sukuna was having none of it. He dragged you by your hair towards the corpse of the boy. Your nails jabbed into his wrist while whimpers of anguish left your mouth.

Sukuna shoved you down to your knees, tugging your hair back - you were sure, they will be ripped off if he yanked with any more pressure - he made you glance at its face. He crouched beside you. With a flick of his finger, he ripped the blindfold out of the boy.

"Dare to shut your eyes."

Compliance had become second nature.

The body was rigid, skin turning blue. The veins on his arms were bulged out, his mouth wide open, filled with foam, trickling down his cheek, drying on it.

The sight caused you to gag.

Horrifying. His bloodshot eyes were wide open, protruding out of the sockets. Irises dilated in shape, which you considered humanly impossible. But what had your heart hammering in your chest wasn't the vivid details you saw on the corpse. It was the fact, that you recognized the boy. Son of that distant elder cousin, you'd seen once or twice in a year.

"Look at that, love." Sukuna cooed in your ear, forcing you to face the corpse.

You shook your head violently, nails dug into his wrist - desperate to escape. Your heart thumped inside your ribcage, you could hear it in your ears, your guts twisted in numerous ways as sweatbeads trailed down your forehead.

"You did that."

No. No, you didn't. You didn't do it. It wasn't you.

"You killed him."

No, you didn't... he didn't die because of you.

"Take a good look. See what you've done."

You vigorously shook your head. Denying all of his claims cause... cause they were... false, yes, false. They were false.

"No," You stated once you found your voice. "N-no, no... I- no."

Sukuna hummed, twisting a knot in your hair, "Yes, you. You did it."

No. You were innocent. You weren't to be blamed. It wasn't you.

It was... him.

"No, no, I didn't," You refused again, standing your ground. Moving your eyes towards him, you gritted your teeth. "No, I didn't do it. I didn't do anything. It was you."

"Really? How so?"

Fire burnt in your eyes. It was enough. He couldn't make you believe which you didn't commit - you didn't kill him.

"Poison," You said with conviction lacing your tone. "He was poisoned, a stab wouldn't procure such a reaction."

"Observant as ever," He mused, quirking up an eyebrow. A faint smile curled up on his lips. "Still, it doesn't gratify the fact that you were the one to end his life."

Blood boiled inside you, surging through your veins like lava. He had no right to accuse you of something. You didn't kill him, he couldn't make you believe it, whatsoever may happen.

"I may have stabbed him with the kanzashi, but that didn't have any trace of poison in it. I am-"

"Sure of it?"

You could only glare at him. He was toying with you. Tugging the strings of your conscience but you won't have any of it. "I am," You confirmed, staring at him without any falters. "I held it... you held it. If it was really drenched with toxicant as lethal as that, we- we both would be dead."

His grip loosened from your hair, hand falling down. The corners of his eyes crinkled, the smile turning into a smirk.

"It was you," You continued. "You did something to him at first and-"

Sukuna broke into a chortle of laughter. Far from jovial, more so sinister, filled with sheer malevolence. He gripped your jaw, pulling you closer to himself. His sharp canines glinted in the dim light.

"You just keep on fascinating me, wife."

Each second with him was revolting. Just his touch alone had your skin crawling. Yet, you couldn't let him know he has the upper hand.

"We had a pact," You stated firmly. His game was disgusting. What was he trying to do? What was his goal? "If I stay with you, you wouldn't lay a finger on my family, then- h-how could-"

"I would still stand on the ground, that I didn't do anything." He replied, a hint of amusement in his tone. "It was all you, wife. I can assure you that I didn't go back in my words." His canines glinted while he smiled. "Not a flick of pain. Save for..." He paused, his eyes widening, the carmine irises glowed in the dark. "Save for telling him, he'd be killed by a snake bite."

"There was no venom on my pin."

"Know so," He confirmed, a playful smirk on his visage. You wished you could read minds, if possible only of him, that'd been enough. Then where did poison come from? You wanted to question but he beat you to it.

"His fear turned into poison."

You blinked. Once. Twice. You knew he had an urge to play mind games but this was ridiculous. You questioned, shell-shocked, "What?"

"He let his fear get the better of him, assuming your pin to be a snake. He believed it." He explained while you listened without so much as a word. "His conscience caused his body to give out the exact reactions, he imagined. A shock, you might say. That caused his death."

His game was disgusting. If he thought, he could just give you any excuse as this and let you believe his accusations then he was mad wrong. You gritted your teeth, yanking your face away from his grip. For a second, you saw all of his eyes opening wide with surprise. But that didn't extinguish the fire burning in you.

He reached out, dragging you towards him via the arm. A glare resting on his face. "What did I tell about refusi-"

"I don't believe you," You cut him off, hands clenched into fists. It was the first time in a long time, you lost your composure in front of him. No, you wouldn't play as his doll anymore. He broke his promise, its only fair that you do so. "I don't believe a single word you say. You- you did something, you must have. Fear, belief, whatever the fuck, something as trivial as that-"

"So you think fear is trivial, wife?" He sighed, his clutch in your arm remained firm. The rough callouses of his palm, rubbed over your skin. "And here I thought, you might be different than the rest. But you managed to drop below my expectations."

"Maybe that's what I love about you, darling." He continued.

Disgust arose in you yet again. Love. As if he had any of that. He wasn't capable of love. Not in this lifetime. Never.

He spoke again, "Times you are the smartest I have seen, then you speak such blasphemy which would even embarrass the Gods you worship. Your silence was awarded by him leaning near your ear. He twisted a curl of your hair between his fingers. "Fear, wife..." He whispered to you. "Fear is a mind killer. It makes you believe anything. The small drop of poison which contaminates all the water."

"In the end, belief and fear are sides of the same coin," His top two eyes, flickered to the corpse of the boy. "I made him consume the poison of fear and you-" He turned to you again. "You made him believe it... so, in a way, yes. Yes, I did do something. Save for the part of ending his life. Though I didn't break my part of our pact." A smirk tugged on his lips. "You were the one who killed him. Isn't that great?"

Your breath hitched, throat gone dry. You gazed at him, eyes wide open. Your mind was a blank canvas.

Fear, poison, belief, killing...

He made you kill someone. An innocent boy who didn't even do anything.

Why won't he much rather just end your life?

Sukuna pulled away from you, standing up, he walked over to the lantern placed in the room. The stench of the rotting corpse had long ago started to pool in.

"You made me kill him." You whispered, still knelt, staring at the floor. When greeted with silence, you questioned again, a tone higher, "You made me kill him."

"And?"

His nonchalance had always been infuriating to you.

You could feel him standing a few steps behind you. "If you really wanted to kill my kin, you should've just told me. Getting your herbs was a tiring chore." You didn't miss the emphasis he put on, herbs. The roll of his eyes while speaking floated before your eyes even though you couldn't see him; the expression must had turned to a smirk later. "However, the taste of taking a life– isn't it delicious, wife?"

Guilt gnawed at you, tearing you internally. Your shoulders trembled as you let out ragged breaths, eyes fixed on the bloodied arm of the boy. The same arm where the kanzashi pierced, the muscles torn apart, blood drying on it due to the boy's onslaught. Nausea overrode your senses, bile rose up your throat and the next moment you were throwing up. The wastes ran down your mouth, your nails dug into the wooded boards – bruising your fingertips and chipping the nails. You didn't realize Sukuna stepping up to your side, pulling your hair back while you were caught into the ordeal.

A disapproving grunt left his mouth after you were finished, yanking you up with your wrist. He pulled you towards the door. "Com-"

"No." Your heels remained firm on the ground. You refused him before you could even think. He turned towards you slightly, a scowl resting on his features before he pivoted around. He cast a glare upon you but before he could speak, your mouth opened again.

"You're even lower than scum." Your jaw ticked, hands clenching into fists. "You made me kill an innocent boy. Someone who might have done nothing to you, You– You disgust me, Sukuna."

Done you were with the respect, he demanded. If that angered him, made him want to rip out your heart and watch the life drain from your eyes. He was most welcome.

But it looks like, he wasn't resorting to any of that.

"You made me a murderer." You urged, staying strong in your stance. "You turned me into you."

His eyebrow twitched, a wave of mirth washed over him. "You were always like me, wife."

"I am nothing-"

"You are. You are like me. You are no saint, as you think so of yourself. " He said, leaving no room for argument. His lips pressed tight into a thin line.

Yet, you refused to believe that. You were nothing like him. Couldn't even dream so. You were not him.

"You kill children in your womb, I kill them after they're born. How is it so different?"

"It is different." You yelled, your jaw clenched, teeth baring out. "This world needs no more of your lineage, it needs no more of you." You jabbed your pointer finger on his chest, tears pooling into your eyes. You refused to shed them. "You kill for your own sake, I do not."

"Then who do you kill for?"

"For everyone." The faint snort of his reached your ears. You couldn't decipher what he found so delightful in this.

"Playing God, are we?" He mocked causing your vexation to rise.

"Maybe I am. For the least, I am not killing innocent people like you."

From where such defiance arose, you weren't sure of. Perhaps, all the frustration, fright, terror which accumulated till now had reached its limit. Moreover, Sukuna's provocation must be the fuel to the fire.

You might be left bleeding– No, you would be left bleeding. You welcomed it with open arms.

"Careful," Sukuna pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. "All Gods aren't worshipped."

He was enjoying himself. In all honesty, your obedience was getting too monotonous. This was better. Your defiance was amusing. Arousing, if there's to add. If he knew, letting you end a few lives would have this effect then he would have resorted to this long ago.

"Better than you." You shoved his hand away, "You are nothing more than a wretched, two-faced curse destroying all of our lives."

He noted your scowl, the way your lips were shut tight, your eyebrows crinkled together. Reasons evident, all he desired was to pull you into his arms smash his lips against yours. Taste the very essence of your being. Consume you wholly, just the way you are. So that in the end, your name, your taste, your scent would be engraved in his very soul. Without your mention, he wouldn't be complete.

But he refrained from giving in now. His desire extended to a far more sinister route. "I wonder..."

What would it be like to break your conviction? What would it be like to break you?

Oh, he knew.

Would it be right moment to let you know? Maybe he should wait for another, more appropriate time.

Hmm, perhaps he should. But no.

He let you play these games for too long. Tired of this game plan, he was. Maybe, you would just come to your senses if he let you know. So he let the words, flow out:

"I wonder, why this curse keeps protecting your pathetic life from people who would cross rivers to lay siege to your life?"

Worth everything.

Sukuna watched as your face lost its color. The previous boldness you presented him with was replaced by a mask of confusion and. Such a pretty sight, it was. To see you, falter from your stand. Second guess, yourself, be in denial then rage consumes you. And you look at him, like he was the forbearer of your misery. (He is).

Oh, how good he has you memorized.

Even the littlest of reactions you contort on your mien, on your mannerisms; everything has him intrigued. You have him intoxicated.

"You know the ones, the people... your people, for whom you play this God."

Sukuna wished he could capture this moment. He'd have the chance to take a glimpse of it again, whenever he wished to. The horrified look on your face as the weight of his words started to sink in.

Would you still look like this if he tells you the terror he bestowed on them who tried to steal you away from him? What would you say if he vividly describes each imagery of how he slowly, agonizingly burnt them, severed them and tormented them? Leaving them nothing but fragments beyond recognition.

You were his. All of you belonged to him. Without his sanction, no one could even see you, let alone touch you. Ah- just how many sorcerers perished from his hands, the number of villages, bathed in blood; save for yours. (Courtesy to that stupid pact, he forged with you)

Something had told him, that there'd be a better time to put an end to the pitiful lives of your kin.

"Can't speak? What caused so, darling?" His tone was laced with smugness, a twisted joy elicited in him. "Fearful that your play amounted to nothing?"

Your jaw ticked with anger. You were furious. "I don't believe you. You are lying."

Your trust on humans was commendable, he'd give you that. However, there's stark contrast between faith and blind belief. You were inclining towards the latter.

So, what do they do when words fail to convey message? Oh right, you give them a prime example.

"Let me just show it to you then, wife."

It was a gamble, he was willing to make. To keep you with him, forever, as he wanted - he needed you to know that no place other than his arms would be as comforting. Even if that meant breaking your very soul, so be it.

You were home.

One moment, Sukuna held your gaze. The next, you are standing before your hearth.

Toes dipping into the familiar black soil, the land where you ran and played during your childhood. Your familial home stood steps away from you. Still looked the same except the visible cracks on the wall, a layer of dust on top of the door and the woods looked worn out. However, what caught your eyes weren't the flaws of your home but the familiar older woman walking into your home.

"Mother…"

She stilled all of a sudden, rotating on her heels, her eyes landed on you. Shell shocked, that's what she was with the widened eyes and parted lips. A small smile curved up on your lips, she still looked the same except the few grey hairs and wrinkles aside her eyes.

"Mother," You called again, taking a step towards her. "I am back."

Sooner than you expected, her eyebrows scrunched up, mouth curving down when she finally registered your presence. You weren't some illusion or her mind playing tricks. "What are you here for?"

The disdainful tone caused you to flinch. You didn't expect this. Returning home, you dreamt of it to be filled with tears of joy and warm embraces. Not this�� whatever, she was presenting you with. But- But its fine, you have returned after a two whole years. She must have been worried. The reason of her apprehension. God, you had a lot making up to do.

"Well, you know," You chuckled lightly, scratching the back of your neck. "Back… just back. I have returned."

"Found your way after two years?" She crossed her arms over her chest, staring at you with a look you didn't want to recognize.

You nodded, "Yes. How could I forget my way? Our address, its-"

You were interrupted when your name was spit out from her mouth. Her glare on you was palpable, "I know what it is. What are you here for?"

Her fury even made your skin crawl with fear. You were often on the receiving end of her glare when you were a child, given by your tendencies to run around and cause trouble for others. Yet, those glares, were none like this. This- this- you didn't want to name what it was.

"You are angry," You don't know if its directed towards your mother or yourself as you hold onto the last bit of fragments that not all is lost. "I get it, I really do." You stood on your toes, attempting to look behind her, into your house. "Where's father? Tell him, I am-"

"No more."

As if the air was knocked out of your lungs.

"What?" Your neck craned towards her so fast, it might have left a sprain. Yet, that was the least of your concern. "What do you mean by no more?"

"No more means no more." Your mother's sigh fell heavy on the air, words carried the weight of the world. Laid with pain underneath.

"How- when? Wha-what happened?" You couldn't wrap your mind around the new discovery. No one told you such. Who could've guessed? Such an ordeal to occur in your absence. And what might she be going through, without you. You didn't even get the chance to talk to him, one last time.

"A year ago," She confessed, her voice conveyed her lament and sorrow. Her words felt like a hammered blow on the fragile façade of hope, you had intricately crafted for yourself. However, she wasn't done. Her eyes held scorn, lips curled up to a sneer. "Aren't you satisfied? You finally made your mark. Must tell you," Her voice, once filled with love held nothing save for contempt, directed at you. "Good game, you played, dear." She spit the endearment as if, it were poison.

"No, I- I never wanted any of this. What are you even talking about?" A trembling footfall towards her, you whispered, "M-mother-"

"Don't you dare call me that."

The weight of her judgement felt heavy on you, pressing down, suffocating you alike chains.

"You are no daughter of mine."

You weren't aware since when the tears had sprang up your eyes, breaking the barricades, they shed down. Your throat burnt as you struggled to even breathe, clutching your chest - a searing pain shooting in your heart. Your heart was shattering from the ultimate rejection from your own flesh and blood.

"While you're at it, know this." Your mother continued.

The next words were like a blow to the gut, each syllable lined with the weight of revelations. Ones that hung in the air like a funeral shroud.

"In his last moments, his only regret was bringing a daughter like you in this world."

This night just doesn't seem to end, does it?

You were left as a hollow shell. Tethering the steps away from the home you were no more welcomed. Exhaustion reigned heavy on you. Physically and mentally.

Where were you going? You didn't know. Just where your feet would take you, there would you go. Perhaps, you can return to Sukuna. Would he take you back? Most probably not. Considering, your earlier outburst, adding to the fact that you refused to give him what you want; he might just discard you as you proved to be useless.

Funny. It was so damn funny. Once, you wished to escape from his hands whatsoever the price yet now… now you considered returning to him.

You could hear him calling you pathetic. Disgusting. More disgusting, that you agreed with him.

You were truly pathetic.

But before you could spiral down the void of self-hatred, a voice- nah, multiple voices startled you.

"There she is, parading around some meek, innocent girl." A scoff is added. "You are far from it."

"The nerve of you to just walk back into our lives after you betrayed us."

Your neck cranes to your left, an old man - the village elder with a few other men and women following behind; they approached you. "Excuse me?"

"Who do you think you are?" A woman's cry reached your ears. "Returning after you turned your back on us."

You flinched at the accusation thrown. What could be possibly be instigating? To all your knowledge, you were walking in this- in your village after two long years. Anger, disdain and accusatory glares clouded their features. If your mother's insults weren't enough to pierce through your heart then it certainly did now, with all the people, you once called your own to look at you like you were the monster.

You summoned the least bit of courage you had, squared your shoulders and started, "I'd have you know-"

"Traitors don't get to speak." At the center of the crowd was the village elder. He was the pillars of your hamlet, revered for his wisdom and guidance, but now he looked akin a judge ready to deliver his sentence upon you. A sentence which would push you more into this conundrum. "You've been cavorting to that monster. Disgusting."

"I am no traitor." You retorted soon. "You can't accuse me of such when you don't ev-"

"Save it for someone who would care, whore."

The curse had your mouth parted in disbelief, horror etched upon your mien. Sooner than you could compose yourself, did whispers of agreement rippled through the crowd which branded you as a traitor.

"You are just as twisted as him."

"Get out of here if you so much as hold your life dear."

"Don't play as the innocent bitch, now."

The accusation hung in the air like a dark cloud, poisoning the atmosphere with its venomous hatred. Your breath was caught in your throat as you searched desperately for words to defend yourself; the crowd's hostility rendered you speechless. But amidst the cacophony of condemnation, one voice stood out above the rest.

I wonder, why this curse keeps protecting your pathetic life from people who would cross rivers to lay down yours?

Really? Were you really recalling his words now? Now of all times… You truly were pathetic.

For one moment, You just stayed silent - letting their accusations bore you down. Somewhere you wished all of it were just a nightmare. You'll soon wake up on your bed beside Sukun- fuck! Since when did you start to expect to wake up with him? He- He was toying with your mind. This was the only result. But the fact that this was your thought process had you recoil back.

The next moment, everything made sense.

These accusations were stemmed from the fact that you- you were proclaimed to be the wife of the King of curses. Your unwillingness to return, given for the pact you forged with Sukuna, was taken as your cue that you betrayed your family, your home, your people.

Your family despised you. Your people despised you. The very same people you chose to protect were turning their back on you.

Did they truly try to lay down your life?

Amidst your plight, you didn't register when the village elder marched up to you. "Didn't you hea-" His trial at speech was cut off. Nay, his lifeline was cut off. (Humorous, isn't it?)

Numerous red lines appeared on his body before it burst off into a globs of flesh and blood. Blood which splashed onto you, marring your visage and attire with its hues.

He was here. You knew it. You could feel it.

For some reason, it filled you with a sense of relief.

However, your people were on the other end of the rope. The eyes which afore held hatred and disgust, they were now filled with horror and fright. In this reverie as the villagers started to flee, a torch tumbled on the ground - lighting the grass on fire. The winds showed no mercy, as the howls increased, so did the flames.

Provoking him was never the right move.

You were digging your own grave.

Playing with fire only gets you burnt.

Flames surrounded you, crawling up your skin, the screams piercing your ears, your chest heaved up and down. Gaze, once settled on your hearth, now all you saw were the burning huts, the crackling of embers reached your ears. Attire and hands stained with blood of the insolent.

No one touches what's mine.

The warning shouldn't have been taken lightly. Should have known, the extent of his power.

Eyes held terror, fright, regret- whatever you could name. The multitude of names you received seemed no more than a distant dream, nowhere to be found. All were running away - expectable.

You expected calamity, but you were calm.

The sparks danced over your irises as everything went down in the crimson hues. Save for you, you weren't burning. Not an spark touched your skin. Was it the distance or the control? Who knows. But one confirmation which you held was that - tonight you won't die. Not so soon either.

Careful, not all Gods are worshipped.

The words rang in your ears and as if on cue, you found him again. In this trance of insanity, only one thing held your sight when you attempted to turn - The eyes tinted with crimson.

All of a sudden, something burnt inside you too.

Unbridled rage consumed you. Your chest heaved up and down as ragged breath left your mouth. Their words came back to you, ringing in your ears as if you were pushed into a void.

Who do you think you are? Returning after you turned your back on us.

Would this bitch even be alive if you prioritized yourself?

Don't play as the innocent bitch, now.

Is that the thanks you get for trying to protect them?

Traitors don't get to talk.

Traitor… fine, you'd be the traitor.

With caution you took one step towards him. No reaction. Your chance - you took another. Then another and another. You stood before him, with nothing save for a void etching your features. Amusement flickered over him, the corner of his lip curled up.

"Saw it for yourself wife?"

Seemed like silence was your go-to response lately. From your peripheral, you saw the burning houses, the distant screams reached you. For some reason, the screams were almost soothing. You revelled in this. Their gut wrenching shrieks were like a balm to your essence.

Their predicament was your solace.

Sounded like someone you knew. Someone who had warned you about them but you chose to remain ignorant. Sickening… were you becoming like him?

You were always like me, wife.

You could laugh. Maybe you were like him.

"Let's forge another pact?" You offered, keeping your eyes pinned on him.

"A pact?"

"A pact."

A smirk curved up his lips, the upper pair of arms crossed over his chest, "Humour me, love."

The smirk wasn't directly for you. But he did. So you returned it back. One with an equal malicious intent. Cause in that moment, no second thoughts, no doubts clouded your mind. And so, you uttered the blasphemy:

"You kill them all, each and everyone. In return, I will stay with you, give you an heir. Whatever you want from me."

A year later

Screams died down after a gruelling ten hours.

"Good news, Sukuna sama. It's a boy."

A/N: Honestly, I was almost done with this fic, long ago but while writing the climax, I kept chickening out with all the self-doubts but then I just wrote what I wanted. I do understand if the ending is not up to your liking and I sincerely apologize for it.

However, thanks for reading up till the end. I enjoyed writing this a lot. Some feedback is appreciated <3

2K notes · View notes

cillivnz · 1 year ago

Note

Hi 👋 I see you write for Lord Dimitrescu (miss a spot, hit the spot was brilliant and I would devour more) and I saw that you are taking requests, what do you think about monster hunter!reader x Lord Dimitrescu? You can take this in whichever direction you like best, but I do have a prompt idea!

Lord Dimitrescu and his sons find a trespasser on their land and Dimitrescu takes her in as his guest/prisoner thinking that she is a clueless lost traveler, not knowing that she's a hunter willing to get close to him by any means necessary, even if it means seducing a monster. Gaining access to his infamous library full of books on how to kill every monster known to man is just the first step, what she really wants is to find out the family's weaknesses and get lord Dimitrescu to let his guard down enough for her to kill him and every last member of his twisted family. Or at least that was the plan...

I just love villain gets the girl/ corruption stories and the idea of someone rolling up into that castle with every intention of wiping out the evil that lives there, but getting seduced instead... 😍😍😍

Love your work!!!

façade of seduction [lord dimitrescu]

PAIRING — LORD DIMITRESCU x MONSTER HUNTER!READER

WORD COUNT — 12.6k+ (i’m so sorry, it’s for the plot!)

WARNINGS — SMUT. eighteen+. AFAB!reader, dark arts, necromancy, the supernatural, mentions of murders, beheadings, cannibalism, vampirism, extremely dubious consent, cursing, extreme gore (blood, cuts, stabbing, mass murder, executions, etc.), reader uses seduction as a tactic, death of family, size kink, age-gap, degradation, pet-names, mentions as well as performed oral sex (talk of male!receiving, performed cunnilingus), fingering, female masturbation, mentions of male masturbation, unprotected penetrative sex, weird & unspecific AU, creampie, cum-eating, breast/nipple play, clit stimulation, extreme descriptions (?), kinda sorta brat-taming.

A/N — whoa, baby! she’s done! firstly, let me just shower this anon with kisses for trusting me such an amazing prompt! thank you, you beautiful soul. i had a blast writing this, and i’m sorry i couldn’t finish it sooner :’( you’re a literal genius, i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing this, and thank you for the kind words! secondly,

i tried incorporating as much lore from the game as i could, majority of the plot is my own fictional work, and the rest [credited to the game] may have been tampered with to suit the plot of this fiction.

Lady Elvira Natalia Stoica is an original character — INCLUSIVE OF ETHNICITY, RACE, COLOUR, BODY TYPE, etc. the only definite characteristic she has is that she is reader’s doppelgänger with an identical appearance, and that her family is of the same origin as The Dimitrescus (Romanian).

Alcina Dimitrescu’s gender-bent version is named Alcides Dimitrescu in my fiction. the credit of his sons’ names goes to @angel-hawthorne ’s comment under this post.

there’s some deliberate references to my other Lord Dimitrescu fiction. read it HERE!

NOTES [excuse inaccurate translations]

"Idiotilor! Așa ne tratezi oaspetele?" : You idiots! Is this how you treat our guest?

"Oaspete? Dar ea—" : Guest? But she—

"Scuzați-vă." : Excuse yourselves.

căprița mea mică : my little doe

cameristă : maid

Pentru dumnezeu! : good god/for god’s sake!

𝓗unters.

Your father before you, and his before him. Monsters, demons, deities; anything of supernatural order, possessing paranormal traits needed to be laid down, and your family was bestowed with the responsibility to do so. They told you, you were god-gifted; possessing an astounding memory. It was as if you soaked in every word you read in journals rich in paranormal history, and carved every word into your brain with your own hand.

Those ungodly creatures fumed at the audacity of a mortal family killing the abysmal aristocracies in the name of slaughtering abominations.

How proudly you awarded yourselves the title of Vânători de urâciuni — Hunters of Abominations. Soon enough, though, the leaders of the Four Houses knew a lesson needed be taught, example be set; actions have consequences, and after all, you were mere mortals. Audacious, dangerous mortals.

The last of the Four Houses needed to be hunted down. Your father, your uncle, your brother managed to wipe out the other key members, before it was about time the reaper caught up to them. Weeks, months went by in weeping for them, never letting their caskets dry, but it was about time you stopped mourning. This isn't what you were raised to do — whom you were raised to be. There was no way in hell you'd let the last Family standing think that the danger was over, not when you found out that it was on their cue, their command, that the guillotine that slashed through your family's head held high, became the inevitable demise of the men of Vânători de urâciuni.

'Fuckers even had the audacity to send the heads back, all nice and packaged, and signed. It was then, you realised, the weight of your name's responsibility lies on your shoulders, now. Mother was too deep in the waters of depression, perhaps, vengeance would serve as her lifeguard, and you sought to get it. For her sake, and yours.

Packing the the remnant of your belongings, primarily, lore on whatever mutation resembled that of what you've heard the family to be; barbaric, and vampiric, you set voyage to Castle Dimitrescu, the Lord's stronghold within the vicinity of a titular Eastern European village; Romania, in other geographical terms.

After weeks on foot, travelling from place to place and squeezing in some good o'l slash-and-dash of monsters into your quest, you reached the abysmal castle. The oppressive aura surrounding The Dimitrescus' colossal abode could be felt miles away from its actual foundations, the monotonous venus blue atmosphere, the trees that have been decayed for decades, peering into your periphery, mortifying the sight of Castle Dimitrescu, even more. You shake off a shiver, determined strides leading you forward. An ominous forest welcomed you, seemingly, the flora responded to every step you took on the onyx soil; you were not too far from the gigantic gates of the castle, deciding to take a breather and assess just what you were dragging yourself into, the massive mountainous foliage providing a safe haven, temporarily.

Rummaging through the contents, page after page, you landed on Wendigo. You knew your ancestors categorised mutations in the same category as a Wendigo, it being the severest form of inhumanity; the mutated man would resort to cannibalism, still humanoid — tall and pale with elongated limbs and pale yellow eyes. If the Dimitrescus were anything like a typical mutated Wendigo, you hadn't thought this through. Then, you remembered your brother's journal.

He was vague with words, often scribbling up a précise at the end of a hunt. Too consumed by your tears, you initially forgot about it, until you realised halfway through your voyage that your mother packed his journal for you, and some documentations recorded by your father and your uncle in their youth, though, you highly doubted you'd be coming across an extinct creature.

There it was — the last page of his journal — the twenty-seventh page to be precise, with triple the pages still empty; clean slates like a reminder of his unlived life, the life that was taken away from him.

You smiled fondly at his handwriting, letting your fingertips trace the scribbles, how deeply the quill was engraved into the paper. You remember laughing at his handwriting, growing up, how your mother would ask him to get a doctorate to match his stereotypical physician's handwriting, but this is all he knew — all you knew. Hunting was your profession, your life and lifestyle, and now, inevitably, your demise, too. You began reading, as I said, your older brother, a master at scribbling précise.

You were unsure, however, when he'd got the time to write down about The Dimitrescus, having never come face-to-face with the tyrants. It seemed your brother's first guess, too, was 'Wendigo', which he scratched down, only to pen it down again, bigger and emphasised, once he enlisted 'Cannibalisme'.

Your heart sank at the etchings.

Even for someone like him, these were too cynical, like he were losing his mind at the mere thought of them: 'one LORD — THREE SONS', it read. 'Blood disease??', 'PARASITE??', 'VAMPIRISM'? That would mean— "Oh." You stood corrected when just below the analysis was a remark, "NO WEAKNESS TO SUN OR WEATHER". Sometimes you swore you and him had the same braincells, always jumping to the same conclusions, which only made the desire to avenge him overpowering.

Your eyes traveled to the end of the page, the last of ink spilled on the worn out pages of your brother's journal, 'NEOPAGAN CULT', 'BLACK GOD'. With widened eyes, and a sinister feeling you couldn't yet shake away, your eyes dart to the next, last page.

There was a symbol maniacally delineated, labelled as the same reports on the previous page. 'NEOPAGAN CULT SYMBOL', and at the bottom of the page, the last thing your brother ever did write was, 'THE CULT OF THE BLACK GOD'. You subconsciously traced the diagram, only to see the graphite taint your fingertips. Your mind was racing two hundred miles per hour, trying to put the pieces of a fatally intricate puzzle together. Your brother's journal, the last of the contents were mere observations, unlike the rest of the pages that are filled with methods of executing generations of monsters.

But for The Dimitrescus, the fact that 'most powerful family' was written with emphasis only made you scowl. You searched frantically in your bag for the journals of your father, your uncle; anything that spoke more about this parasite and the said Black God.

Glancing back at the foot of the palace, you had to do a double take when you saw the guards leave the premises, bread and wine in hand. Their chuckles could be sound from the heart of the forest, even though they repeatedly 'shushed' one another, saying "the Lord" would put their "heads on a stick".

You take their departure as your cue and pace quietly towards the castle. You stood face to face with the colossal gates, doing your level best to push them open, just enough to sneak in, but the big dumb fuckers wouldn't budge. Scoffing, as fate would have it in your luck, you began scanning the perimeter for any safe way in, otherwise, you sure as hell knew how to make an entry.

"Ain't no fucking way," you'd pretty much lost all hope, not realising when your brother wrote down, "tall", it included the infrastructure, too. It was then your eyes noticed one particular stone brick placed slightly outward, and the one above it, and then the one above it, outward enough for you to step on, up, and grip the grotesque grill, securing the premises from people exactly like you.

The first step up was easy, the stone steady enough to carry you, or so you thought for when the second you stepped onto the next one, the one below fell to the ground, shattering to bits. You eyed the stone your foot was on currently, leaping when realisation hit you. By the time you rock-climbed your ass up to the top, the whole way up had crumbled down. You gripped the gothic grill, not taking the maker of it to be a sadist, for it sliced the flesh of your palm even through the slightest contact. You winced, looking back at the broken rocks, perhaps, a good omen; no one would suspect you climbed up the wall, now.

Crossing the grill, you jumped down as silently as a human could, looking back at your newfound enemy, the grill, only for it to be leaking with crimson. You groaned at the sight of your blood, thinking you were better than this, letting some metal get the best of you, but the immense pain from the cut made your head a little dizzy. Shaking the odd feel off, you proceeded leftward, walking further in to be greeted by what seemed to be a courtyard.

No servants, chamberlain nor staff was seen out and about, quite contrary to what one would expect from the functioning of a castle this mighty. Though the odds were in your favour, it didn't seem so; it's quiet, too quiet. Nothing other than a raven's screech and the flap of the wings of a murder of crows was heard for miles. Your steps had quickened at the sight of a door, finally leading you inside. As you inspected it, you sensed a magical aura around it; you could use a spell to crack it open, but that would cause bring attention you did not need at the moment. So, you pull a pin from your hair and apply the cheapskate thief method, and lo and behold, you were in.

Fuck yeah.

Closing the bulky door as silently behind you as you could, you were slammed right back into it, while what felt to be a talon instead of a hand wrapped around the back of your throat. "Well, well, what do we have here?" Said an anonymous voice, cuing laughter from two more.

Fuck, no.

The last thing you remember was a pair of hands squeezing your waist, one choking you, while one hand ghosted over your face, causing a wave of unconsciousness to pass over you.

Chained; you groaned, a pounding ache ringing in your head like an alarm, your eyes blinked, close to a hundred times to get accustomed to your dark, unfamiliar surroundings, while your nose burned with the stench of— burning bodies?

You lifted your head to see three tall figures illuminated by the feeble attempts of a torch. "Alas, sleeping beauty wakes." You heard one taunt, a raspy baritone to his voice, "No fun — I prefer them unconscious," said another with a similar tone. "Well, you're no fun if you don't like to watch the fear in their eyes when they beg you for their life," said the third. The conversation flowed more amongst themselves, quite rude to not have included the meat of the matter — you, but what more could you expect from The Dimitrescu Boys? Oh, you were sure it was them. 'One lord — three sons', you remembered, and no odds suggested they were servants or guards. Not with the way expensive jewels embellished their stallion necks not-so-subtly, like an all-time reminder of their aristocratic status. 'Pathetic,' you thought, it seems no matter the day or age, the breed of "daddy's money" remains as obnoxious as ever.

While they bickered amongst themselves, you took the time to take in their appearances: Handsome, irrelevant. Tall, but no more than an average case of gigantism in most villages. Yellow eyes, but not humanoid — no, fully, thoroughly (so it seems) human. Could this be another variety? Hybrids, perhaps, since Vampirism was in the books of possibility. That could explain their immunity to weather conditions. Their facial features became vivid all of a sudden, and you noticed the blood smeared all over their faces. Paying heed to your iniquity, perhaps even irked expression, the boys smirked devilishly; not charming, dangerously, Lucifer-ishly, but satanically. You weren't into the lighter side of magic like your mother, only using it grotesquely, but you knew aura-reading, even envisioning, like the back of your hand, and theirs was sinister: an abysmal shade of black surrounding them, with occultism dancing between their physical forms in the fiery colour of hellish hues.

"Tell us, what's a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?" One questioned, "Hm, never seen one so beautiful." "Is she even real — ethereal." "Makes me almost not want to eat her." Your eyes widened at the last remark, "Eat her in a different way, I'd definitely." Their shark-like smiles grew wider, subconsciously causing you to back away from them while they inched closer, ready to pounce on you and relish your beauty. "What do you have there, boys?" Asked the deepest voice you'd ever heard, from the other side of what you now realised was the dungeon. You were taken aback at the intrusion, silently thanking your saviour, even if it were the man himself — Lord Alcides Dimitrescu, head of Familia Dimitrescu.

His sons scattered immediately, letting their father rest his eyes upon you. "Food, father," one spoke eagerly, as if trying to impress his old man. "We saw her trespassing in the courtyard, and then she came inside." Spoke the other. "You could have her," said another, "If you save us a taste." Your face lost its colour when a ice-cold hand wrapped itself around your throat, yanking you up with one lift, and throwing you towards the bars between you and the mammoth Lord. His devilish expression— softened? "Elvira!" He exclaimed softly, reaching for your face, but the second his hand tried to snake past the bar, he winced in contact, the metal bar hissing with effervescence. Weakness?

"Idiotilor! Așa ne tratezi oaspetele?" The man was fuming: a flabbergasted expression on the said idiots' faces. "Oaspete? Dar ea—" "She can do as she pleases in my home." The man spat venom like thunder, his hateful expression turned to apologetic and caring in the blink of an eye when he turned to you. "Let her out this very instant." He glared at his sons one last time before turning away and saying, "The longer you wait, the more severe will be the outcomes."

So you were rushed out the dungeon and sent to the guesthouse.

The chamberlain had been waiting for you there at the direct orders of her master. "Lady Stoica, We're truly very sorry for the inconveniences caused to you. The Lord gifts you these gowns as his sincerest apology. He'd love for you to join him for supper once you have freshened up. Step out of your chambers, when you're done, and I'll be happy to take you there." You didn't acknowledge her, only awaited her leave so you could examine the gowns she had motioned towards while babbling courtesies you didn't give a fuck about. It'll definitely take more than four gowns to earn forgiveness for the treatment meted out to you down in the dungeons, but you wanted to give the tyrant lord a little bit of credit, for the gowns were stunning.

As you took in the details of each cloth, you came upon a note, which read: Sweetest Elvira,

Forgive my imbecile progeny, if you think they are worth it, but let us celebrate your presence, still, in my abode. Would you be so kind to accept my invitation for dinner? I have long yearned your company since the last time Lord and Lady Stoica visited.

Hoping to have you with me,

Alcides Dimitrescu.

Your blood boiled at his handwriting. It was the same intricate, royally cursive writing that signed the parcel of your family's heads.

You headed into the bath with murder on your mind; no matter how many times you'd sink into the warm waters, the heat only aggravated your fuming self. It was rosewater, the scent made your mind trail back to days of yore: when your mother would set up baths like this for you, the sweet scent of herbs and nature's warmth filled your hateful mind with nostalgia, then worry. Your mother had the most fight in her, no doubt about that, but that didn't mean she resorted to it easily; always seeing the best in people, giving them countless chances to repent. A generous, godly trait, but fatal in a world dominated by people like the man you were to meet with for dinner— supper, or whatever. You were just glad you weren't being served as the main course.

For now.

As you dried yourself up, your mind replayed the conversations, the characteristics and behaviours of the family. How he called you, 'Elvira'. Yes, Lady Elvira Natalia of Familia Stoica, another noble household your family put an end to. The irony lay in her appearance: the two of you looked alike — no, identical. Perhaps minor attributes set the difference between you two, or the fact that you put a bullet between her eyes — eyes just like yours; it was the reason why the Vânători de urâciuni men hesitated to kill her — sister, daughter, and niece. Not you, never had you hesitated. It's what set you apart in a man's world. If a woman's emotions got the best of her, than lucky for you and unfortunate for the whole world, the only feelings coursing through your mind like the blood in your veins were bloodlust. Blood and Lust, as your mind trailed back to Lord Dimitrescu—

Alcides fuckin' Dimitrescu.

He was tall, so tall, he had to crouch to an uncomfortable extent just to get a proper look at your frame through the dungeon bars. His raven locs and beard: neat as a lord, rugged like a pirate; his sharp nose, his thick, furrowed brows, his luscious lips and those eyes. Those fucking amber eyes, captivating, devouring you like a fox after literal meat. Their hue was as fluorescent as a Wendigo's, then how was he not like one? How is he so devilishly handsome?

Stuck in a limbo, half- hypnotised with hazy memories of the Lord, memories you were yet to make with him, you were left enchanted; like he had cast a spell on yo— "Holy fuck." That's it. It's the only logical reason behind such profound emotions. He had cast a spell on you. It could've easily been the waters, you had bathed in them, let the rose waters soak every inch of your skin. Or worse, his eyes? You had definitely not been that out of it to imagine them glowing in the dark, but if he truly practised necromancy at such a profound level that a mere look in your direction left you enamoured, then you had to come up with a plan, and come up with a plan fucking fast.

Despite your certainty that the only way you'd feel something so unlikely for a man who was responsible for the death of family, was via nécromancies, you still had to be sure. So, you performed an indication ritual. In a vessel, you stored the possible method of enchantment — the bath water — along with the blood of the enchanted. You prick your finger deep enough to get ample beads of crimson out, letting them drop into the vessel. Now, if by dawn, the contents of the vessel turn potently black, your suspicions are true, and the tyrant Alcides, indeed, cast a spell on you, but if it were to remain colourless, than the worst of your concerns has arisen, for you'd have willingly let lust overpower the balance of bloodlust in the weigh of your emotions.

Placing the vessel underneath your bed, you begin dressing. The odds were too ironic not to choose the rose coloured gown for the evening, so you wore it, feeling condemned to. Fixing whatever you deemed necessary, you stepped out of your room to find the chamberlain stationed exactly where she said she'd be.

Her breath hitched a little, eyes widening as she saw you turn towards her, "You look beautiful, Miss Stoica," was her way of seeing 'you clean up pretty nice for a dirty mess in the dungeons', but you paid no heed, letting the woman escort you.

The walk to the Lord's dining area was awkward, and fearful for the servant. There was no denying you resembled the heiress of one of the Seven Royal Families, but you hadn't thought your own victim's identity would play as your decoy in your most fatal mission.

You didn't blame them, you were dumbfounded at the striking resemblance, yourself.

The hair, the skin, the features; it was without a doubt you killed your doppelgänger that day, and though you were never one to follow rituals of lore, it says, 'the slaughtering of one's self' — a doppelgänger — 'is the greatest sign of one's power and control', so it was no wonder since then you had long been feared in every corner of Eastern Europe, but you never earned notoriety, nor make a fuss over the death of The Stoicas, which is why everyone in Castle Dimitrescu believes you to be her, for they think she is what you are; alive.

"We've arrived, madam. If you need me, please don't hesitate to call." She gave you a knowing look, one of empathy? Weird. Interestingly weird. You only nodded, before pushing the glass doors open, and letting yourself in.

Alcides sat with the three of his sons, you'd heard him call them Boian, Cătălin, and Dorin, not knowing which one is which, but you doubt names matter when their death's are destined by your hands. As if sensing you, something you'd mentally categorise among his vampiric characteristics, his head shot up from his sons and immediately those amber eyes were on you, ripping through your dress, eating you alive. His lifeless skin flushed at the sight of you, wet hair clinging to your frame so perfectly, he could smell the shampoo from here. How tightly the dress hugged your curves, how accentuated the rose colour of the gown made your ethereal body. Your plump, pouty lips were rosy like the gown, an even prettier colour, the sudden blush that dared to creep on your face, your determined brows raised a little at the shameless attention you were receiving, your big, radiant doe eyes widening, pupils dilating, and your long lashes batting at his direction.

"Elvira." He rose from his seats, as did his sons, heads snapping right at you to shamelessly ogle at you. On seeing that the look of disgust on your face was directed towards his sons, he shot them a fuming glare, causing them to nod an apology and immediately be seated again.

"Thank you for joining me." He said, softly, awaiting you. You moved closer, deciding to be seated beside the lord, across from his sons. "How have you been, my dear?" His hand found yours, yours minuscule in his clasp. "I had been fine, until certain miscreants accused me of trespassing."

You shot the three culprits a glare, and rightly so. Alcides eyed his sons, clearing his throat obviously when his sons remained oblivious to his cryptic signs.

"We're, uh," began one, "We're sorry, Madam Stoica," continued the other, "We didn't mean for any of that to happen, we just wanted to scare what appeared to be an uninvited guest at the time." "Had we known it was you... well, let's just say your welcome would've been different. Mostly." Finished the last, and your mind immediately caught on to the insinuation:

"Eat her in a different way, I'd definitely."

You could see the man's blood boil beside you, "Scuzați-vă." He growled, and you caught a glimpse of just how much fear he's instilled into his children, for they immediately excused themselves from the table and left with hurried steps.

"Pardon them, I don't know where I went wrong in raising them." He sighed once they were out of sight, rubbing the bridge of his nose. You've never been one to sympathise with an enemy, but maybe sympathy isn't what'll lead to his slaughter; seduction is.

You wordlessly place a hand atop his, earning a soft gasp from him. His eyes searched your face, and when you couldn't help but give him a small smile, he grinned; from ear to ear, letting his pearly fangs rise from their pillowy coverings, his lips, which he soon had to bite to control his giddiness. "Oh, Elvira," his voice was soft, a mere yearn lingering in the warmth of the room. Had it been this hot since you stepped in, or had the flush of your cheeks been indicating otherwise? "You're so beautiful." His other hand tucked the stray strand of hair falling onto your face, behind your ear. You felt a tinge of bitterness brewing in you, whatever relationship was established between Alcides and Elvira, it sure was on the better side of the spectrum.

Were you really feeling jealous of your dead doppelgänger? Well, from the way he looked at you— her — right now, you'd say he wouldn't take to her murder too kindly.

"I swear, you're even more beautiful than the last time I saw you." You blushed, so he enjoyed the new-and-improved Elvira more. "Yet you stay ever handsome." NO. You didn't mean for it to slip, you didn't mean it, you didn't think it — yet, you said it, and he fucking relished in it.

To save you from your embarrassment, your newfound guardian angels, the chef and other servants, brought in food of all sorts. Albeit the sheer hatred you felt towards them, you couldn't help but ask Alcides about his sons. "Aren't you sweet?" He looked at you with fondness, before answering, "The servants will bring them food to their quarters."

Fair enough.

You proceeded eating without another word or glance in his direction. Upon finishing the scrumptious meal, you waited for Alcides to take the lead.

Men like him relished in power, authority, and since he was born into it with a silver spoon hanging from his mouth, it was the only thing he knew.

He looked at you for several moments, an unreadable expression on his face making you more conscious than repelled, as if you craved the validation of his eyes.

He rose from his seat, one hand lingering in the air, an invitation for you to clasp it, while the other grabbed a hefty cluster of grapes by the stem. "Walk with me, darling."

He had to look painfully low to even see your head, once you rose to your height, it helped, but little aid was provided to the giant standing at 9'6.

You held his hand, the sheer size difference had you squirming in your steps.

Just imagine how beautiful sex would be with him, you wouldn't even be able to fit him— "Fuck," you whined under your breath, making damn sure your voice wasn't audible to Mount Everest beside you.

This was the spell talking — thinking; it's got to be. You withdrew your hand, pretending to fix the blouse of the dress, earning a glance from the Lord in your direction, which only stayed for a moment before the calming silence between the two of you was the only thing you could see, until he halted, pulling your attention back to him. "Fruit, my dear?" He waved the cluster, so you knew which ones he was talking about. Come to think of it, you did feel thirsty, and those grapes looked lusciously juicy.

"I don't see why not," you shrugged, not anticipated him to raise the cluster to his mouth and bite a grape off. You watched, mouth slightly agape as a perfectly fine grape rested between his fangs. Even the slightest subconscious movement could rip through the fruit, yet it stayed perfectly safe in his mouth.

He then crouched, now eye-to-eye with you. His eyebrows raised in your direction, challenging you. Challenging you to pull the fruit out of his mouth, and there was only one way to do it.

You bit your lip, you could have your fun, just until you find a reversal cure to his spell.

So, you grab onto both his wide, muscular shoulders, letting your arms cross around his neck. You smirk at him, bringing one hand forward to trace his features. He was so, so strong, to the point you were more aroused than intimated. Your hand reached his torso, you could see how your teasing placed him in agony. Slowly, you let your hand ghost over his pants, and lo and behold, he was aroused; painfully so, and you felt it immoral to torment a man so much (the fucking irony), so you palmed him through his pants, causing his mouth to hang open and out fell grape— right into your palm.

You bring the fruit up to your mouth, Alcides left mesmerised with the way your plump, perfect lips wrapped around it before ripping through it. A moan escaped your lips as the juice dripped down your tongue. "So good," you left out a sigh, and something in him snapped. Alcides flipped you around, you were now pressed against some wall that practically emerged in support of his... expeditions. He plucked two grapes, placing them in his large palm, before bringing it closer to your face. When your eyes widened in confusion, his other hand wrapped itself around your jaw, squeezing your cheeks to open your mouth, before you realised what he demanded and gave it to him; you licked about the fruit, before accepting them into your mouth. Your tongue still teased his flesh, when he pulled away. Amber eyes mere slits with obvious lust, "Now," he began, "You can say you've eaten out of the Lord's palm." He winked at you before walking away.

You steadied your haggard breathing, before deciding to follow him when a certain room caught your eye. It were as if your name was being chanted like a careful whisper, that only sounded when you were left alone. Following your gut, as a hunter as skilled as you would, you push open the heavy doors and let yourself in.

The first thing catching your eye was an obnoxious leather chair that you couldn't help but run a hand over, "Gator skin," you scowled. Though a hunter, you were against hunting — animals, that is, although you'd be hypocritical to say so when the creatures you send to hell are no less barbaric than a creature tormenting in wilderness. Still, you believed in fighting an equivalent, or even better, an apparent immortal.

On the left of it was an fireplace, charcoaled in exhaustion like it recently gave up it's flame and purpose, and in front, was a library, the source of your calling; not colossal, yet extreme in number. The whispering chant grew to a shout, a yearn for each leather-clad covering of ink spilled on paper to be touched by your feather-light fingertips, and only a fool would turn down a beseech like such.

Books of alchemy, instructional journals of God summonings, documentations on every supernatural creature that roamed the planet and how to kill them; even the Satanic Bible was on display, and you explored every single one of them. Fighting the temptation to steal every book with valour, despite how useful each would've proved to be to you in the future, you declined every book until you reached what you sought, rather, what sought you tonight. "The Book of The Four Houses", the spine read. You pulled the book out, not anticipating it to be so heavy. "The Book of The Four Houses", you read again, searching for an author, but not met by any name.

You flip through the pages frantically, in hopes to find any continuance of relevance to your brother's observations, and there it was: Familia Dimitrescu, the excerpt was titled.

"Alcides Dimitrescu was born into the noble Dimitrescu family sometime before the Great War, and through this ancestry inherited a hereditary blood disease, possibly porphyria cutanea tarda. Although his family traced their origins to Cesare, one of the four founders of an isolated mountain village in Europe, Alcides himself lived elsewhere, perhaps through a cadet branch. In the aftermath of the Second World War and the abolition of the nobility, Dimitrescu returned to his family's former lands, which had fallen under the control of a neopagan cult worshipping the Black God.

Prior to 1958, at the age of 44, Dimitrescu was lured by the cult leader, Mother Miranda, to a crypt beneath the village cemetery, where he was surgically implanted with a Cadou parasite. The purpose of this experiment was to determine his viability as a candidate who could become host to a parasitic intelligence at a later date. This experiment mutated Alcides' body considerably, granting him regenerative capabilities, retractable claw-like nails, and the ability to transform into a dragon-like monster and back again. Moreover, the parasite halted his aging process, maintaining his appearance perpetually. In spite of these impressive biological changes, the resulting mutation did not nullify his blood disease. As a result, Dimitrescu needed a ready supply of fresh human blood to maintain his health, and was therefore judged by Miranda to be a failure."

"Although Dimitrescu was of no use as a host, his claim to Castle Dimitrescu was recognized by Miranda and he was allowed to take residence in the village as one of the Four Lords, who would maintain order over the native peasantry while aiding Miranda in Cadou research. Upon inhabiting the estate, Dimitrescu took over his family's vineyard and wine-distribution business as a means of supporting himself."

"Relishing in his reclaimed noble status, Dimitrescu developed extreme caste-based views of society, seeing himself as second only to Miranda herself. He openly loathed the other three house Lords, particularly Karl Heisenberg, whom he frequently argued with. He privately bemoaned that he was not Miranda's favorite, instead being treated the same as all the others. Despite this, Dimitrescu's alliance with the other houses allowed him to rule his castle with barbarous cruelty, regularly taking in new staff to replace those who had been taken to his dungeon to be killed and drained of blood for sustenance."

"Dimitrescu's own experiments with Cadou appear to have been limited, as the only confirmed instance was an experiment begun by Miranda and monitored by Dimitrescu. In this experiment, the corpses of three men were implanted with Cadou parasites. Over the course of about a week, the Cadou produced fly-like organisms which then consumed the flesh of all three bodies. Having assimilated the DNA of these men, the flies merged to mimic their human shapes and slowly adapted their likenesses. Dimitrescu immediately formed a bond with these three men, whom he named Boian, Cătălin, and Dorin, and came to regard himself as their father. They obeyed Dimitrescu without question, and were similar to him in that they were ageless and reliant on vampirism for sustenance. However, they were incapable of withstanding cold temperatures, thus remaining trapped within the confines of Castle Dimitrescu."

That explains the overwhelming warmth of the Castle that had began to annoy you.

"Over the next seventy years, Dimitrescu and his sons systematically consumed the flesh and blood of local peasants and servants alike. The blood of maids was extracted and combined with grapes to create Sanguis Virginis (Latin for "Maiden's Blood"), a traditional Dimitrescu family wine. The female victims, now infected with Mold, lived on as Moroaicǎ and Samcă, while male victims were consumed and then hollowed out to be turned into scarecrows for the castle vineyard."

"Dimitrescu's reign of terror was not without resistance, however, as one villager is known to have stolen a family heirloom — the Dagger of Death's Flowers — in an attempt to assassinate him with its poisoned blade. The attempt failed and he was buried with the dagger in the Tower of Worship to keep it hidden from any others who might seek to harm him."

You snapped the book shut, mind whirling in an epileptic shock, replaying every single word over and over in your head, then images of Alcides, his "sons", Cadou Parasites, Mother Miranda? By the time you realised it, you were hyperventilating, eyes scattering from corner-to-corner, in search of anything less cryptic, anything less 'Once-upon-a-time-there-was-a-beautiful-boy-named-Alcides', and more 'Weakness-to-duhduhduh-kill-by-gunshot-to-the-duhduhduh'.

You threw your head back in unfamiliar pain that originated from your chest, you can't believe plain ink on paper knocked the air out of you, but then again, so did the signed caskets of your family; by the same man you now found out to be ancient and seemingly indestructible, but talk of this "Dagger of Death's Flowers" gave you hope.

Your thoughts of retrieving it were cut short when the doors burst open. "What are you doing?" roared the thunderous voice of the man of the hour, "Elvira." His voice was laced with an emotion you were too out of your head to begin deciphering. His eyes dropped to the book in your hands while awaiting your answer. "Oh, why didn't you say so?" His expression softened, causing you to raise a brow in perplexity. He walked over, the fondness in his eyes returned, causing your tense posture to relax a bit. He took the book from you, and seemingly landed on a page mentioning Alcides' life before lordship. "You really love this book, don't you? I guess it is fun to read a fan's work." He chuckled, flipping through the pages as if he hadn't seen the book in a long, long time.

Huh.

If 'Elvira', too, had been scavenging through the book of Dimitrescus, possibly for the same reason as you, maybe you're more similar than you thought.

When you looked up to his height, his eyes were already on you. "You look tired, my dear. I would be happy to take you to your quarters." He smiled, and your heartbeat was quick to quicken at that. "I'd like that, my Lord."

My Lord.

The walk to your chambers was a haze, all you could feel was the growing wetness in your panties from the way his eyes bore into you; penetrating every inch of you, consuming your conscience with the darkest desires.

Taking out your brother's journal from your bag, you flipped to a fresh page and began filling in your own conclusions. As you wrote, you began to think— not just as a hunter, but as a long deprived woman who had just encountered the most handsome man ever, who just also happened to have murdered her family.

The way he walks, the way he holds your innocent gaze challengingly, the way he looks at you like you're the most exquisite meal, and he's a man starving. You had long abandoned the trepidation and abhorrence you felt towards his cannibalistic lifestyle, instead, feeling a shameful surge of lust shoot into you. You rubbed your thighs together, laying on the bed, but dutifully still, writing every bit of knowledge you gained today; from the parasite, to relations with the leaders of the other Houses and Seven Royal Families that Vânători de urâciuni had already slaughtered, to Mother Miranda, and even what little you read about the Black God.

By the time you covered every intricate detail of a disaster waiting to happen, the heat between your legs was nuclear; the throb, unbearable, leaving you no choice but to act on your animalistic urges. You straighten up, slowly discarding the beautiful cloth that once accentuated your body, now felt like constricted bondages on it.

Once bare, you sink into the pillowy cushions of your given quarters. Something about the whole room smelled like him, but the strongest scent came from your dress, when you were pressed against him. Even both your arousals could be scented from the innocent rose dress, so you tugged it closer to you, breathing in his smoky musk scent, along with your innocent floral one. "Fuck," you groaned, fingers finally ghosting over the mess dying to be made between your legs.

You decided now was not the time to tease, so you coat your fingers in your wetness and smear circles on your swollen clit. "Fuck."

Your bud throbbed in your grasp, desperate to have a little somebody's fanged mouth on it, your nipples hardened the same, aching to have that mouth graze over them, suckle on them, taint the soft, ample flesh with sinister marks. Hell, if it meant one night of succumbing to carnal pleasures, you'd even let the fucker carve that neo-pagan cult symbol on you.

"Fuck!" You weren't thinking straight — no, you weren't thinking at all. How could you? You were under a spell, 'Yes, that was it,' you thought, more so struggling in convincing yourself than anything. Just the sheer thought of a man possessing vile notoriety, relishing in every crime you've fought against; his size, the abnormality of it all. You fantasised about how inhumanely long his tongue might be, teasing around your clit before plunging into your slit.

Oh, that's it.

You shoved your fingers inside of you, whining at how unfulfilling they were, when compared to the hands of him. You were pretty sure his middle finger was bigger than your face.

The only sound to be heard was the squelching of your pussy and your whimpering. You could only pray you weren't audible, not that you minded, because it was Elvira Stoica who'd get mocked, not Y/N Y/L.

Your pace quickened at the thought of him fucking you as Y/N. Would the thought of fucking the enemy be as tantalisingly erotic to him, too? Or would he just hate fuck you, and then feast on your flesh?

"Fuck me..—" You lost your voice when your breath hitched in your throat. "Ju-just like that, mhhm." You were so close, just a bit more... "Fuck me."

That's it, honey, just let go—

"Oh," you moaned too loud to be safe, "Alcides!"

Your legs were shaking, cunt spasming around your fingers while your chest heaved up and down, in a breathless state.

As you rubbed your high out, realisation dawned in on you.

What have you done?

You woke up disgruntled.

Still unimaginably wet, yet thankful for the release, but you hadn't forgiven yourself. Last night was unacceptable, even for someone enchanted. To make matters worse, this isn't even the first time someone put an infatuation spell on you; at least three men before this, but not to pacify an enemy, but to woo a stoic woman with only murder on her mind.

The victim of such a spell for the fourth time, yet Alcides is different. This was incredible necromancy, not like any you've encountered before. It was then you remembered the vessel underneath your bed. Almost too eagerly you jumped off the bed, still somewhat entangled in the sheets, which you threw off swiftly.

You ducked under the bed, the vessel promisingly in the same spot as you had left it. Reaching for it with closed eyes and crossed fingers, you pull it from underneath and lift it to your height.

As you peeped one eye open, then the other in disbelief, you threw the vessel with one swing of your arm. It banged against the wall, before falling to the ground with a typical, screeching metal noise.

This can't be happening. There was no way you felt what you did for Alcides, willingly. The clear contents of the vessel indicated otherwise, though. There was no mistake in your ritual, either; you added what was needed and waited long enough.

"No, no, no, no, NO!"

This can't be fucking happening. You were ready to bawl your eyes out, when one sophisticated knock erupted you. "Elvira." It was him, you knew, your body and heart knew.

When no response followed, Alcides began, "My sons and I are travelling out of estate," he cleared his throat, "I'm sorry for telling you on such short notice, but we won't be back until tomorrow." His voiced trailed off, as if waiting for you to reveal yourself, your reaction, anything, but you're too shaken up to give him any satisfaction. "That's quite alright, my lord." You swallow the lump in your throat, not being able to control yourself and adding, "I'll be right here, waiting." You swore you heard a groan, but were stuck in a limbo by the time Alcides left your door.

You decided all things could be said and done after bathing, so you run a bath and let the scented waters soak into you, replacing the stench of your sins with the perfumed power of blaming Alcides; but you couldn't do that anymore, could you? Not when he was never provocative.

Once you finished freshening up, you grabbed another one of the gowns Dimitrescu gave you. It was black, and beautiful; you were left speechless when you put it on. God, did he really have to make you feel beautiful when you were sent to kill his entire bloodline? "Ah, such unfortunate circumstances." You 'tsked' before doing your hair.

By the time you were done with your makeup, you were certain of today's plan: You were going for breakfast, accessing the courtyard, navigating the Tower Of Worship, exhuming the villager with whom the "Dagger of Death's Flowers" is buried; dig it out, lace the blade with gunpowder, stab all fuckers, one by one, get the fuck out, walk miles back home, and hibernate.

Sweet.

You step out of your quarters to find the chamberlain posted there, just like the day before. "If I say so, my lady?" She looked up at you, the tiny thing was adorable for the fear she felt, yet still wanted you to know that, "You look ravishing." She briefly looked you in the eye before the rouge on her cheeks became embarrassingly obvious, to her. You, on the other hand found her just as she was, adorable.

Upon entering the dining area, she silently took her leave, when you grabbed her wrist. "First Alcides, now you, too?" You asked, flirtatiously referring to both of them excusing themselves from you. "The least you could do is give me company." And how could anyone resist the sultry tone of a stunning woman?

So the chamberlain finds herself dining with you.

You insisted she sat besides you, and despite putting the maximum distance between your chairs, she complied. "So...?" You inquired after finishing your meal, referring to her name. "Oh— uh— Pasha, mi lady." You smiled, "Beautiful name for a beautiful girl." You saw her rub her thighs together from the corner of your eye. "Well, Pasha," you decided to break the awkward silence that hadn't formed yet, "You think you can take me to the Tower Of Worship?" You sipped on your tea, eyeing her while you swallowed, only to see her with widened eyes and haphazard breathing. "Me-my l-lady—..." she stammered, hesitation painted all over her soft features as if you asked her to murder The Dimitrescus herself, or eat you out, you couldn't decide which was more mortifying for the poor girl. "What is it, Pasha?" You sighed.

"Th-the area is strictly off limits— only the... family can go there." She gulped at your growingly irritable expression. "I am part of the family — the Stoica household, in case you've forgotten, cameristă."

"I- yes, mi lady. I'm so sor—" "I don't want to hear it." You interrupted, raising a hand in the air. "Will you, or will you not take me to the Tower Of Worship?" You stared at her, the impatience visible on your face, before you decided to put on the façade you knew best; the façade of seduction. "Please, Pasha," you placed a hand on her bare thigh, her little skirt leaving little to imagination.

"For me?" Were the magical words that got the job done.

So you walk with the head of the staff of Castle Dimitrescu, into the family's place of worship, to exhume the corpse of the only man with the balls to try and assassinate him.

Pasha dropped you off at the foot of the Tower, more than happy to bolt away once you told her it was okay to leave you alone.

You walk up the stairs, and into the end of Castle Dimitrescu.

For a place of "worship", the place had the most oppressive aura, reeking of the occult and unimaginable. You fought your way inside, barely getting in while the air was knocked out of you; perhaps, a barrier of necromancy, despite it, you were able to get through.

You ran from corner to corner, searched every square centimetre of the place, but no place near-resembled the tomb of an assailant. "Fuck, where is it?" Your hands dipped inside your bag to look for something, before pulling it out and beginning your rummaging.

Indeed, you had stopped by Alcides' study before breakfast, telling the maid you 'forgot something' in there during your "time" last night, before winking at her shamelessly and forcing your entry. Sneaking out 'The Book of The Four Houses' was something you could do with your eyes closed.

Your eyes read past every word until you landed where you were made to stop, when the wave of overwhelm hit you last night. "Hall of the Four", the title read.

"The Hall of the Four, known in Japanese as Between the Four Angels (四天使の間, shi tenshi no aida?), is an area of Castle Dimitrescu." The Hall of the Four leads to the Tower of Worship, but this door cannot be opened until the four masks are placed on the Angel statues."

You groaned a string of profanities.

It's like you were set up for failure, and the worst part is, you could hear him laughing in the back of your mind— Alcides. His new abode has become the back of your mind, for he never leaves there.

Tired, disappointed and on the verge of giving up, you leave the Tower. You were a goner without the masks, and despite being in a rush to at least try and acquire them, you walked in a defeated slumber.

The chamberlain met you somewhere near the courtyard, surprised to see you walking out alive. "Lady Stoica—" "Just take me to my quarters, Pasha." You sighed, earning a swift nod from the confused chamberlain.

You walked lost, still, until you reached your room and opened that damned book again. While you scrolled through the contents, a mere note fell off, barely in your grasp.

The handwriting.

It was your brother's, but— it couldn't be. They never got close enough, which is why you're here now, right? They never got close enough. Three of the most feared, skilled men in the world of hunting never got close to one man and his three experiments for sons.

How in the hell did— Wait.

'Mask of Pleasure: Second Floor of Castle Dimitrescu',

that's where you are right now.

Everything could wait, hell, God could wait on the other line of heaven. You needed answers, yes, but something in your gut tells you it's better unknown. All that matters right now is killing him and every last member of his twisted family.

Or at least that was the plan...

You find yourself walking towards any room, with any possibility of possessing a mask. Hell, you had no idea what it looked like, but if it looks anything like the pleasure you'd be rewarding yourself with once you get the fuck out of this place, the mask won't be too difficult to find.

Soon enough you had pulled the place apart — the whole floor — except one room you hadn't set foot in. Alcides Dimitrescu's chambers.

A colossal door; you couldn't look away from the necromantic symbols etched into the woodwork. Had you not possessed the ability to see through such dark arts, you would've stepped right in and be left to deal with a fatality. You pull two vessels from your bag; the Blood of Christ and Vurxelheim, two of the purest substances on the planet, known to melt away all magic, no matter how ancient or dark, and as your expected, it did just that.

Alright, now all that was needed was to open the door, and even an amateur could do that with a pin.

Upon entering, you took in the details of his abode, almost forgetting to close the door behind you. Everything was brown; that's something you've noticed about the whole castle. Monotonously warm shades of brown, dimly lit with heat radiating over every surface. You only quirked a brow at the abnormalities. It soon came to your knowledge that the foundation of this floor is regarded as the "Hall of Pleasures". Kinky.

You looked around every corner, in every possible direction and space, but to no avail. Sighing, your head fell back, eyes closed it absolute demotivation, but when you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was porcelain intricately carved, and hanging from the ceiling; a place where no mortal, but only a 9'6 indestructible titan of a tyrant could reach. It was obnoxious, if anything; placing it in a place so obvious, yet so out of reach — a direct message to show he's better than the rest, quite literally above them.

With no possible way of reaching it, you were still accessing your options when one strong arm wrapped itself around your waist and raised you up, right to where the mask hanged. "If you wanted to swing by my chambers,"

"You could've just asked, mic vânător."

Little Hunter— "Let go of me!" You writhed in his grasp, hand slowly reaching for the mask, still. "If you say so," he shrugged before letting go of you completely, letting you hang from the ceiling like a dreamcatcher. "Son of a bitch! You put me down this instant or I swear to God I'll rip through you and your experiments with my bare hands." "Ah, there's no need to get feisty, Elvira." He said, grabbing you by the waist, and putting you down, despite your kicking and struggling. "I'm only trying to help." He grunted, one hand disappearing behind his trench coat; you were ready to pounce at him, when he pulled, seemingly, the other three masks from behind.

"There you go, sweetheart. Masks of Joy, Sorrow, and Rage." He waved the remaining three keys to The Hall of the Four. You eyed him, and he swore the frowning pout was the cutest sight he's ever seen. "C'mon, they're yours for the taking, darling." He smiled at you.

"What's the catch, Alcides?" You sighed.

It's never that fucking easy, is it?

"One night with me." He simply spoke, taking your deepening scowl as a notion to carry on, "One night to decide what is it that you want, Elvira," "Or should I call you, Y/N Y/L of the Vânători de urâciuni?" Your eyes widened with horror; you hadn't processed him calling you 'little hunter', yet, and now this? This could only mean— "How did you—" "Please. 'You think I wouldn't find out about the mass murder of my fiancé? And imagine the gossip about town that it was a doppelgänger who did it." No, you were careful, he's lying — he's got to be. "Lucky for me, I get the sexier one, now." He chuckled, impressed with his wit.

When you didn't give him the satisfaction of freaking out on him, moreover agreeing to his terms, he rolled his eyes, "Pentru dumnezeu! The first mistake was the rocks you climbed on. They've deliberately been arranged like so, for trespassers like you to easily enter, walk through the courtyard, and into the quarters of my sons for them to feast upon. Then, leaving your blood on the grill? The scent agonised me. It was so difficult to put those three dogs on a leash, having never smelled something so sweet." He 'tsked', "The second mistake was trusting Pasha. It was her hand that twirled in your bath water, mixing the infatuation spell, and it was her, too, that switched the vessel underneath your bed. Very clever, by the way, very thoroughly performed indication ritual."

"But your third— baby, this mistake might as well be a blessing because it's the only fucking thing keeping me away from ripping into you slowly, and feast on your flesh for two whole days; pleasuring yourself, in my fucking castle, fantasising about fucking me."

"Oh, and the guillotine was Heisenberg, I only added the dramatic touch of sending the heads back."

You couldn't bear it.

Bottles full of emotions you've locked away for ages finally hit the concrete of reality; shattering to a million pieces while the man you still find irresistible, had an unimpressed look on his face. "Y/N. I know you want to kill me—" "Oh, honey, you have no idea." You laughed dryly, choking on sobs, but something tells you the impact of your threat didn't go in the direction you wanted because he visibly tensed when you called him, "honey".

"But," he raised both hands in defence, "I wouldn't have gotten you these," he said, waving the masks again, "If I didn't think this deserved a chance— we — deserved a chance." "You think I'll let you anywhere near me after you toyed with me like a plaything? Sent me my father, my uncle, my brother's heads to add a 'dramatic touch'?" "I should've put a more potent spell on you," he cursed under his breath, earning a scoff from you.

You pulled out a dagger from your thigh holster, and lunged at him. Caught off guard, Dimitrescu's eyes widen while you slashed through his alabaster shirt, eager to bleed some crimson into his lifelessly pale skin. "I've had it with you, brat!" He growled, the whack of his palm on your cheek took you back, and you didn't mean to moan.

The cry, it was wanton, and it had Alcides latching on to every ounce of self control he still preserved. "Alright, here's what we're gonna do," he grabbed the dagger from your grasp within a second. "You're gonna take off your clothes, lay down, looking pretty for me like you always do," he walked closer, raising his large hands again in defence. "You following me— okay," he inched closer to you, while you backed away, further into the wall. "I'm gonna feast on this pussy, then I'm gonna finger your tight hole open, and because I'm feeling generous," he grabbed ahold of your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, "I'm not gonna force my cock into your pretty little throat, you're gonna beg for it." He caressed your face, the way your doe eyes watered while staring at him, like glass he could see his reflection in, your agape lips and soft expression made his pants constrict his cock agonisingly. "And the last thing I'll be doing, even if it's my last ever," his hand wrapped around your throat, pulling you to his king-sized bed. Laying you down, and climbing on top like a wolf on a lamb, he says, "Is fucking this pussy till you finally accept that you're made for me."

His mouth latched onto your neck, easily manhandling you at the same time while you writhed in his grasp. "I would rather be dead." You spat out venomously, which only made Alcides smile. "Well, alright. I'd still pound you till you're a mere cum-dump, but I'd surely miss those pretty sounds you made when you fingered yourself thinking about me." He panted against your pulse point, baritone voice hoarse with lust.

He spread your legs, lifting both your hands up by the wrists to his face. "Tiny little things," he kissed the knuckles of each finger, "Unsatisfying, aren't they?" He showered your hands with kisses, "Don't worry, darling, I'm here now." He raised both hands so their size was visible in your periphery, before grabbing your dress and pulling it over your head. "No!" You resisted, causing him to huff, annoyed. "Don't make me tear it off, honey, you look breathtaking in it." He cooed, and your movements haltered enough for him to successfully get it off you. "Good girl— such a good girl f'me."

Immediately his eyes were on your curves, your hips — perfect for bearing the child he was about to fuck into you, your breasts, so ample, all available for his groping and fondling, your pussy almost peering out of the silk panties. "Fuck, Y/N." He groaned, about to rip your underwear off when your pleads interrupted him. "Alci-Alcides please don't." "Hm," his sharp eyes seemed to be calculating his next move. "You say no, but your body," he groaned, pressing the knuckles of two of his fingers against your clothed cunt, "Your body sings otherwise, my love."

Every second passing by was petrifying.

The mortal battle between blood and lust, two things you were the epitome of, qualities comprising your very backbone, now, asked you to break it; bend over backwards and break your back for this man.

The string of pleads you cried fell on deaf ears, which, a part of you was glad for. Maybe if you continued to put the blame on Alcides and his necromancy, you'll actually let yourself live with the fact that your desires to have him ravage in your guts is overpowering, and the carnality lay in the fact that you didn't even care about what happened after. You were serving him your body in a platter, which you had not an ounce of doubt would eventually serve that purpose, quite literally.

"Tell me you want me." He hovered over your breasts. If he wanted to play games, then games you'll play. "I want you..." you whispered, "to go fuck yourself." He would've smacked you again, but again, you would've enjoyed it. What did stop him, however, was the shit-eating grin plastered on your face that showed him you were still on planet Earth, among the living and the abominable.

"Now, why would I do that, when I've got such a pretty girl with her pussy all wet for me?" He mimicked your expression, staring into your soul until you were forced to look away, and your eyes landed right on his clothed erection. "This?" He followed your gaze, "You're going to take care of this in just a minute, but for now," he paused, his large hands turning into talons and ultimately perilous claws. Cutting through the hems of both your garments, he retracted his claws immediately. You flinched when his hands came closer to your hips, "Don't be afraid, mic vânător." His baritone voice gave you absurd comfort, the tone, reassuring. "They can't hurt you, unless I want them to." His pearly whites were like the fangs of a serpent, peering out, bloodthirsty for you.

With that, he lowered himself and dove right in.

You slithered about while his anomaly of a tongue kitten-licked your inner thighs. "I'll tie you to the fucking bed, if you don't quit squirming." He spat.

At your pussy.

You moaned in response, hips momentarily halting from the continuous resisting. "Yeah? You like that don't you, slut?" His fingers spread your slit, before spitting right into your tight hole that fluttered about nothing. "There you go, my love." He cooed in response to your whining, smoothly inserting his index finger into the same hole. A tremor ran down your spine at the sudden intrusion; the stone-cold, thick and long thing digit was a cruel thing, reaching that sweet spot the minute it bottomed out till, knuckle-deep in your velvety walls, and even calling the others to join in on the assault on your cunt.

Accommodating, now, three of his fingers, pummelling your cunt, scissoring you open, was more overwhelming than any dick you've ever taken. Maybe the fact that no one else could amount to the size of an ancient 9'6 vampiric cannibal Lord who's put his and the life of his sons in your palm.

Either you take them away, or let him take you to carnality never fathomed before, and the way he sucked on your swollen clit while fucking you with his fingers was a clear indication of your preference.

"Alcides," you moaned, nearing your high. "Yes, my love?" He replied almost instantaneously, as if finally you complied with a poor man's request. "What is it that you need, darling? I'll give it all to you." He lifted up from your pussy, leaving your clit with a wet 'pop' sound, making his way over to your breasts, while his movements inside you never faltered once. His sharp eyes searched yours, fixated on them while his hot tongue snaked out of his mouth to twirl around your hardened bud. Flesh on fire, you leaned into the feel of his mouth on you. "Fuck me, Alcides." You cried in defeat. How the mighty have fallen prey to the vultures of lust, mere carcasses of seduction.

Alas, the façade of seduction had backfired, and you had fucked up royally.

Upon hearing the trumpets of his victory through your pretty mouth, Alcides would've been a fool to refuse you. Eagerly he undoes his pants, letting his throbbing cock spring free. Your eyes damn-near saw your brain at the sight of the thing. "Alci— I can't." Seeing you panic, he began getting off on it. "You can, and you will." He hissed when his calloused thumb rubbed against the slit of his cock.

"Oh, I wanna feel that throat squeezing around me." He pumped faster, fucking his fist to the thought of you like many a night before. "But this pussy will do," "For now." He said, rubbing his length fervently against your slit, lathering your wetness on his leaking tip, enthusing a sweet mix of your cum, much more of which was to come.

"Won't be... able... to..." You spoke in between moans gaps the tip was in. The stretch was abnormal, ungodly, unnatural — exactly what you're deemed to kill. "You'll take it, mic vânător." He began to push more in, knocking the air out of your body. "Stop clenching," he groaned deeply, the sound resonating in your core. Nothing could've prepared you for this intrusion, so agonisingly painful, yet deliciously filling.

"You've... got to s.—stop... clenching." He pushed in the whole length, deadening your movements. You'd think he'd fear breaking you, but no. Alcides fuckin' Dimitrescu was thrilled to see you finally submitting, even if your body paralysed in the fear of being ripped open, your back arched, breasts stopped wavering in the air, and your breath caught in your throat.

Only when the loudest, most pornographic moan left your lips did Alcides begin to thrust into you, already drunk off of your pussy, ecstatic in ecstasy.

Despite the slow speed, his thrusts were deep enough for legs to start shaking. To your shock, he lifted your legs and since they couldn't reach his shoulder's that stood almost as stall as the fucking ceiling, they were swinging across his forearms, and at this angle he slammed his hips into you.

You screamed, damage was made to your vocal chords as well as your walls when the penetration quickly turned into pummelling, giving you zero time to adjust to the mammoth size of it. On seeing your closed eyes, Alcides smacked your face, gentler than before, yet enough for your eyes to shoot open, face contorting in pleasure at his gesture that was now among your favourites. "Don't let those pretty eyes waver away." His grip on your hips was threateningly tight. "Look into my eyes, or there," his eyes motioned downwards, and it was then you saw the immense bump in your belly. Your eyes widened in profound horror. He had most certainly torn your insides apart, you were sure.

"See how big it is— how well you still take it?" He babbled while vigourously pushing into your poor cunt. "Pl-lease, go... easy on—me." You managed to plead out, but nothing counts stop the possessed Lord. Finally, he got the chance to feel your insides, and there was no way in hell, he thought, he'd let you off easy. Not when you're the biggest threat to his existence, let you wrap so tightly around his monster cock.

Dumbfounded, cock-drunk, utterly paralysed in place, you had no choice but try to get accustomed to the relentless attack your pussy had to endure.

Just when you thought your demise would be the sole pleasure you were forced to undergo, two of his fingers rubbed fervent figure-eights on your bundle of nerves that ached with bloodrush.

You babbled incoherences, whimpering, shaking your head repeatedly when he lifted your lifeless body, just the tip of his cock inside, and switched positions with you. Now, he laid, somewhat upright, hands crossed behind his head. Leisurely eyeing you, while you struggled to breath with his entire length upright inside your walls, his tip pressing against your cervix like an enemy threatening to break down your barriers; your walls.

"M-move... please..." you mewled, causing him to 'tsk' with disdain. "Help yourself, căprița mea mică." He raised a brow, mouth curling viciously into a smirk, "Use me as you please." Your shaky hands reached for his broad shoulders, raising then steadying your hovering self over his cock. His eyebrows wiggled in amusement, awaiting your move comically, until the feel of your walls struggling to take in his tip pulled him back into a trance of pleasure.

He let out an animalistic groan that lingered to be what you swore was a whimper, so you did your best to lift your tiring legs and plop down on his cock, upright and pulsating inside you. "I could fuck this pussy every moment for the remnant of my days." He smiled at you, large palms resting on your hot ass, slowly caressing your curves. The gesture, so contradicting to the impaling you were enduring, nearly knocked the air out of you, for when your perplexed eyes met his expectedly ravenous ones, you were shocked to see them replaced by fondness.

"If I'm lucky enough to live," he paused, hands squeezing your ass before sitting upright, pulling you with him. You moaned wantonly when you felt his cock deeper. "Let this be how we wake, how we sleep — in each other's embrace." His eyes widened, as did yours, like deer caught in front of headlights. The feigning look of innocence on his face sent your core spiralling with erotic ache, when his face, not once breaking eye contact, inched forward to stop just in front of your nipple.

You shrieked when he took complete control, earning a whine from you as you just got the hang of dominance, but when you noticed the hellbent gleam of carnality in his eyes, you knew you were in for a ride.

He suckled on your bud while fucking through you. "You're close, aren't you?" He pulled away from your nipple with a pop sound, resting his bearded face on your breast, "I know you are. 'Can feel her tightening around my cock." He chuckled, mouth back on the hardened bud in his presence. You sneaked a hand down and rubbed your bundle of nerves, fervently.

His large fingers, jealous of your own, were quick to replace them in driving you to your high. You were practically spoon-fed the orgasm, that took a toll on your fragile body.

No emotion overwhelmed every hemisphere, every neurone of your brain like ever before. Your mind went spiralling away, like an eternal shore hugging the lunar tide for the first time a night, your shore's dry spell was over, and your body did it's best to fight the feeling and drive a stake through his lustful heart, but your body was worn out; used as any lucky ragdoll would be.

The overstimulation sent you back to Earth at godspeed. His movements were sloppy, but not faltering, and soon enough, he let his seed bathe your walls a pearly shade. "Take it all— carry my seed." He moaned, absentmindedly.

When you plopped onto his shoulders, he lifted you up single-handedly and laid between your legs. You instinctively closed them; despite being too fucked out of it, you still cringed at how both your cum leaked out of you, ruining the sheets and everything between.

"Alcides, no—"

You were a second too late in pleading, for he grabbed you by the legs, placed them on his shoulders, and stood up.

You hung upside down, your pussy a stone's throw away from the man's smirked lips. By now, you knew what was about to unfold, yet the first lick to your cum-coated lips sent shockwaves down your spine (rather up?).

He moaned against your clit, the vibrations causing you to writhe in his grasp. His tongue licked your pussy clean, the circular motions on your clit, to the long licks from your clit to slit.

It's crazy how an anomaly like him became your exception — the hunter's favourite prey. With a tongue so skilled, you weren't to be blamed for succumbing to your current situation; not like you could do much in the grasp of a monster like him.

You're lucky his cock didn't fuck a new hole into you.

When his large palms let go of your hips, you wrapped your legs around his neck instinctively. You could've used his vulnerability to your advantage, had your mind not clouded in the ecstasy of overstimulation. It seemed like Alcides thought the same, for he smirked devilishly to himself, letting his talons ghost about your flesh, before slightly retracting to pinch and squeeze your nipples. He placed open mouthed kisses on your clit that not once stopped throbbing.

You shook in agony, his mouth worked tantalisingly slow on your burning hot cunt. Deciding to show mercy, an unlikely thing for the tyrant Lord, he smiled at your frame hanging tightly from his; your breasts heaving under his touch, obstructing his view of your pleasure-stricken face.

Lord Dimitrescu plunged his tongue inside you, placing one hand on your hip to push and grind you against his tongue, and you swore every atom in your body was swollen with pleasure.

"No... n-no more..." Your beseech was deemed adorable by the man tongue-fucking you. He pulled out, slithery wet tongue, coated in your juices, leaving you breathless. He lapped at your wetness, growing per minute as he so desperately coaxed more out of you.

Dumbfounded, pussy-drunk, utterly engrossed in place, you had no choice but try to get accustomed to the relentless devouring of your pussy at the hands of your sworn enemy.

One of his hands snaked to your clit, the ever fervent pace of his movements drove you to madness. Your body stilled, eyes rolled back, breath hitched, and it was when his tongue flicked inside of you that you realised that you were doomed.

After drinking your juices clean, Alcides placed you gently on his bed, and by the time he laid next to you, you had already wandered off in dreams.

Your mother awaited your letters.

Perhaps, she'll be rejoiced to hear you alive and well, or maybe she'll be mortified that you're alive and well, and The Dimitrescus live and breath, still. Either way, she and the rest of the world better get used to you signing every final letter as 'Lady Dimitrescu'.

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 5 months ago

Text

the longest damn late night phone call from heaven EVER

aka, Emily has a slightly gruesome favor to ask, Charlie's determined to be good and helpful friend, and Vaggie was only half-right about people not recognizing her without her exorcist mask

Charlie: “…not exactly what I expected, when dad said heaven wanted another chat.”

Emily: “I know, I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to bother you at home-”

Charlie: “It’s fine. Kinda late for a video call but, hold on.” (slips into hallway) (quietly shuts bedroom door) “It’s important right?”

Emily: “It’s… it’s important to me.”

Charlie: “Well that counts! What’s up? Uh, aside from literally you, anyway.”

Emily: “Before that, is your girlfriend- is Vaggie okay?”

Charlie: “She’s.”

Charlie: “……”

Charlie: “…fine.”

Emily: “There were a lot of bandages.”

Charlie: “Oh. Those.”

Emily: “I wasn’t trying to look, but when you were going past of bed, I just. I’ve never seen one of us like-”

Charlie: “Um I don’t think she’d really like the ‘one of us’ part. Just a heads up.”

Emily: “I’ll remember. Will they heal? Lute’s arm already has, and she said angelic steel is what- what killed that first Exorcist-”

Charlie: “Some of them- Some of them will heal, Vaggie says.”

Emily: “And the others?”

Charlie: “They’ll… probably be like her eye, I guess. The bleeding will stop.”

Emily: “Her eye-?”

Charlie: “Did you know Lute gouged it out with a sword? Right before leaving her in hell?”

Emily: “She- No! Why would she-”

Charlie: “So you didn’t know what Vaggie was when you saw her. You didn’t know what Lute and Adam did to her-”

Emily: “Charlie I SWEAR I had no idea. The Exorcists- other than Lute they keep those masks on almost all time, even up here! I could have walked past Vaggie a hundred times without knowing it!”

Charlie: “….that’s what she said too.”

Emily: “Vaggie?”

Charlie: “Mm.”

Emily: “Why ask me then? She told you and you trust her… right?”

Charlie: “It’s, complicated. And not the point.”

Emily: “Are you two okay-”

Charlie: “Not the point. What can I help heaven with tonight? I’d, kinda like to get back to bed before she wakes up.”

Emily: “Sorry, of course, I just don’t want you two to have more trouble…” (sighs) “…but I guess I’m not the right person to help am I. Not with, all this.”

Charlie: “I don’t blame you for what Lute and Adam did. Or for Sera letting them do it.”

Emily: “It still makes being friends hard, doesn’t it?”

Charlie: “…a little.”

Emily: “I’m-”

Charlie: “But! I’m not gonna let them stop us from doing it.” (determined) “Screw heaven- I wouldn’t have answered the phone if it’d been anyone other than you calling from up there anyway! Well, you or Sir Pentious.”

Emily: “I’m so, SO glad he made it here. ”

Charlie: “Me too.” (smiles) “You need help with something? Tell me. If I can do anything about it, I will.”

Emily: “Oh it’s nothing like that, it’s just… a question.”

Charlie: “Okay?”

Emily: “….”

Charlie: “….”

Emily: “…I’m a little scared to ask.”

Charlie: “That’s okay! I know the feeling! If it helps, I promise I won’t get angry or annoyed just over you asking something!”

Emily: “Thanks. That’s. Not really what I’m scared of.”

Charlie: “Well what parts the scary part?”

Emily: “The answer.”

Charlie: “...huh.”

Emily: “I’m not sure I want to hear it, honestly.”

Charlie: “But you called in the middle of the night so you could ask?”

Emily: “Yes.”

Charlie: “So you DO want to know.”

Emily: “It feels more like I have to know.”

Charlie: “Okay…. uhh. What… kind of question is it?”

Emily: “The battle. The, dead Exorcists.”

Charlie: “Oh fuck. Shoot- Is it about the bodies? Because I’m REALLY sorry again about letting the cannibals uh, eat them. I’d kinda. I’d promised them- the cannibals I mean- and, um. They lost a lot of friends too so-”

Emily: “No that’s fine. It’s, it doesn’t matter much once they’re dead does it. S-someone should get to be happy about the fresh. Um. Meat.”

Charlie: “Ssssstillll, I wish I could’ve sent them back-”

Emily: “Did you see-?”

Charlie: “-whoops sorry, go ahead.”

Emily: “….”

Charlie: “….”

Emily: “….”

Charlie: “Ah-hem. Go ahead?”

Emily: “…”

Charlie: “Aaaaany time now…”

Emily: “…”

Charlie: “….Look, Emily-”

Emily: “I know I’m sorry I-”

Charlie: “No no! I really wish I had all night for this. Really! I wanna be the friend who sits up until four in morning talking- and any other time I would be!”

Emily: “I know.”

Charlie: “Only I also really, really don’t want Vaggie waking up alone tonight. Not after we, after I- I can’t do that to her right now, okay?”

Emily: “…yes. Okay.”

Charlie: “How about this- you call back in the morning, we settle in and-”

Emily: “Did you see an Exorcist that didn’t fit in?”

Charlie: “-uhhh, what?”

Emily: “An Exorcist.”

Charlie: “I mean, yes? There were dozens! Pretty hard to keep count when you’re fighting for you-”

Emily: “But was there one that didn’t fit in?”

Charlie: “Fit in what where- oh ugh Angel Dust get OUT of my head-”

Emily: “With the others. The other Exorcists. Was there one in the fight that, didn’t quite look right? Caught your eye for some reason?”

Charlie: “Don’t they all kinda look the same?”

Emily: “Yes. Mostly.”

Charlie: “Bloodstained uniform, horned mask, weird crossed out eye and stitched mouth aesthetic thing, scary black and white wings-”

Emily: “Did the cannibals eat the wings?”

Charlie: “The w-”

Emily: “The wings of the dead Exorcists. Did they eat-”

Charlie: “Emily- those are feathers. The cannibals ate the meaty parts sure, but-”

Emily: “So you could still check. If. If any of the Exorcists who died. If they had strange wings.”

Charlie: “I guess, I-”

Emily: “Charlie. I need you to check.”

Charlie: “What-”

Emily: “I just need to know-”

Charlie: “But-”

Emily: “-please-”

Charlie: “Hey it’s okay, I’ll check! I’ll check first thing tomorrow!”

Emily: “Promise?”

Charlie: “Of course! It’ll be easy, don’t worry! Vaggie saved the wings from all of them. I’m not sure what for- some kind of funeral I think- or target practice- funerary target practice? Is that an angel thing…?”

Emily: “We don’t….really have those in Heaven. Funerals.”

Charlie: “Oh. Right.”

Charlie: “…”

Charlie: “Must be nice.”

Emily: “I’m sorry.”

Charlie: “No- that came out wrong. Forget it! So the wing thing is just a Vaggie thing or something. Anyway. Checking the wings. Nooooo problem. CAN do.”

Emily: “Thank you. And. And you’ll just tell me about it? Not anyone else in heaven?”

Charlie: “Sure! Is it a secret?”

Emily: “No.”

Charlie: “Buuuut you don’t want Sera finding out.”

Emily: “I’ll tell her later. When I’m… Once I’ve…”

Emily: “…”

Charlie: “Oh Emily hey- it’s okay! Shh, it’s okay!!”

Emily: “I don’t know if it is.” (voice breaking) “Sera won’t let me near the Exorcists and Lute won’t answer any questions about them- I don’t know who else to ask or if I really want to know, but I can’t sleep, and if she didn’t die down there then I NEED to find her somehow and ask her HOW she could’ve been doing this! Murdering people, killing souls-”

Charlie: “Whoa wait, ask who? What am I even checking the Exorcist wings for?”

Charlie: “… Who…who are you looking for?”

Emily: “I don’t know her name. We never met.”

Charlie: “You seem to really care about her, for someone you’ve never met.”

Emily: “Because she was DIFFERENT! She-”

Emily: (looks away)

Emily: “…she’s part of why I never questioned the Exorcists. She. I thought she was proof that underneath masks, they meant well. That they were strict and distant but also protectors, and they cared, and…”

Charlie: “…and now you know what she was doing the whole time.”

Emily: “She CAN’T have been. You shouldn’t be able to be so kind and gentle and still-”

Charlie: “People can be a lot of different things, to different people.”

Emily: “How?”

Charlie: “That’s just… what makes people, people, I think. We can all do things we never thought we’d do.”

Emily: “Exorcists kill children don’t they. Child sinners- they don’t spare them, do they?”

Charlie: “They don’t really DO the whole ‘sparing’ thing. Not in the Pride Ring. Only my dad’s family is safe from exterminations- or was safe. Kids… if they don’t have anyone, or if their families can’t keep them safe, then…” (shudders) “…yeah. I’ve. I found the bodies a few times.”

Emily: “How… how can they-”

Charlie: “I don’t know.” (tired) (slumping back against the door) “They just do.”

Emily: “She can’t have done that! That’s the ONE thing I know about her- she LOVED children. Falling in line and being a good Exorcist didn’t matter as soon as a child needed her!”

Charlie: “Well- well maybe she wasn’t one of the ones who… hurt kids. Maybe she didn’t do that.”

Emily: “But she must have seen it happening. Known it happened. And she didn’t stop it.”

Charlie: (wince) “T- tell me about her? The parts you saw up in heaven, her being nice to those kids- that happened too! What was she like?”

Emily: “…watchful.”

Charlie: “A guardian angel huh?” (smiles weakly) “I think I know the type.”

Emily: “She should’ve been that. She shouldn’t have-” (sighs) “…Exorcists keep to themselves, up in heaven.”

Charlie: (grits teeth) “If they’re mostly all like Lute then that’s probably the only way to keep heaven a nice place.”

Emily: “Lute isn’t… well I guess I don’t really know her either. I always thought she was just paranoid, busy being overprepared, scared for heaven and channeling it into anger…. maybe she is that? Maybe she just-”

Charlie: “She tried stabbing out Vaggie’s other eye.”

Emily: “….”

Emily: “A lot of things make sense now, knowing what she and Adam were doing.”

Charlie: “Like keeping the Exorcists separate?”

Emily: “That, and the identical uniforms, the masks… the constant, BRUTAL training and practice.”

Charlie: “Building trust in a warzone….”

Emily: “What?”

Charlie: “Nothing- How did any of them get near a kid, if that’s what it’s like?”

Emily: “They didn’t. It was an accident.”

Charlie: “Now THAT’S depressing.”

Emily: “I guess so..”

Charlie: “…”

Charlie: “So. What happened?”

Emily: “Oh… some children were testing their wings. Just out having fun, you know. A few flew out of sight- their friends tried looking for them, but there are parts of heaven not everyone can always reach.”

Charlie: “There is? Why-”

Emily: “Heaven’s supposed to be a peaceful, happy place. An eternity of rest and recovery- It’s supposed to be safe. To be safe, Sera always said the Exorcists needed to be ready to defend it, and they needed space to not always be happy or peaceful.”

Charlie: “They always seemed pretty happy about not being peaceful, not gonna lie.”

Emily: “They get really into training with each other- but do you mean, even during the exterminations-?”

Charlie: “ESPECIALLY then.”

Emily: (frustrated) “I wish things would stop making so much sense!”

Charlie: “Same.”

Emily: “It was right there all along, and I didn’t see it!”

Charlie: “I mean, they really didn’t want you to.”

Emily: “And how many people are dead because of that?”

Charlie: “It’s not your fault… And it’s not all bad.” (weak chuckle) “Vaggie likes it better down here. The one upside to finding out old secrets is how it can make things better- she makes much more sense now too.”

Emily: “In good ways?”

Charlie: “In… in kinda silly, kinda sad ways.”

Emily: “Silly is good.”

Charlie: “Yeah…”

Emily: “Sorry. I won’t pry. I’m just listening- passively- if you want.”

Charlie: "It’s nothing super personal or secret, just that, I get why she likes high places and open spaces when she needs thinking time. Not like the view’s amazingly great down here, so I always wondered… All those times finding her on roof tops or the hotel’s crow’s nest."

Charlie: "I asked if staring at heaven's light was a moth demon thing once and she just shrugged, but the angel thing makes so much more sense and she's terrible at lying if I'd just ASKED-”

Emily: "Now you're sounding like me."

Charlie: "URGH right- good things, good things are- when she's up there, I know now she's either cursing heaven or hating herself."

Emily: "... is there a better good thing? Because that's..."

Charlie: "Now I can HELP her. With that."

Emily: "That's a good thing, yes."

Charlie: "She doesn't have to walk around all the time being scared of me finding out and getting angry or hurt, I DID find out and I WAS angry and and hurt, and it was fine."

Emily: "Well..."

Charlie: "Okay fine, not fine but BETTR. It IS better."

Emily: "..."

Emily: “...your hotel has a crow’s nest? That must be perfect for her.”

Charlie: “What? Oh, yes. She loves it...”

Charlie: "Shit even her HAIR makes so much sense now."

Emily: “She’s grown hers out- I’ve never thought about an Exorcist with long hair- it’s very pretty.”

Charlie: “Pretty, fun to play with, but she leaves it loose even when all the swooshing annoys her. It gets in the way of her trying to stab people."

Emily: "I bet we could find a metaphor in that."

Charlie: "I guess it’s kinda like wings though? The weight and having something cover her back like that.”

Emily: “Wings are… not just that. Wings are pretty different.”

Charlie: “Long hair was probably still better than nothing though. I wonder if she’ll cut it now? Or just keep it in the ponytail?”

Emily: “What do you mean?”

Charlie: "Well, short hair is easier to take care of, right? Plus she seemed to really like having it out of her face during the battle, even after getting her wings back-”

Emily: “No, wait- Getting them back? She’s an angel, doesn’t she have- hasn’t she always had….”

Charlie: “No she… They didn’t mention that either, did they.”

Emily: “What did they do.”

Charlie: “One guess. And one guess who ‘they’ were.”

Emily: “Lute. Adam leaves- he left almost everything that actually needed doing to her.”

Charlie: “Well this time the thing that needed doing-”

Emily: “They took her wings.”

Charlie: "It was more of a ripping action? Tearing?? Wrenching- No, ripping sounds right- Ripped them off and left them on the ground next to her. Vaggie had to stuff them in a dumpster before any sinners saw them and mobbed her.”

Emily: “….”

Charlie: “M-maybe I shouldn’t have said that part.”

Emily: “It’s fine. Important to know.”

Charlie: “But Vaggie only just told ME about it, and now I’m blubbering it out to you- fuck. Forget I said it? Please?”

Emily: “You should talk about it with someone who isn’t her, Charlie.”

Charlie: “Not like this though! Not with-”

Emily: “An angel. Someone from heaven.”

Charlie: “-not with someone she isn’t even friends with yet.”

Emily: “Thanks for the ‘yet’ part. I hope you’re right about it.”

Charlie: “I will be. But um. Until then…?”

Emily: “All I know is she didn’t have wings and now she does again. No specifics.”

Charlie: “Thank you.”

Charlie: (clears throat) “You, uh. You were telling me about YOUR Exorcist.��

Emily: “Right. Her and children. The ones who wandered off-”

Charlie: “-onto the one place in heaven that isn’t sunshine and rainbows and fluffy clouds of happiness, right right.”

Emily: “It was a bit of shoreline Exorcists use for live battle training.”

Charlie: “Yay fun?”

Emily: “Where they, they practice tearing each other apart with their bare hands-”

Charlie: “Oh!”

Emily: “-weapons aren’t used for it, don’t worry! None of the children were in any real danger!”

Charlie: “But they SAW it!?”

Emily: “From a distance… not, not close enough to get splattered by blood….”

Charlie: “Oh wow that’s SO reassuring!”

Emily: “Except for one of them.”

Charlie: “How the HECK didn’t anyone notice there were kids around before starting that stuff!? Didn’t they CHECK-”

Emily: “The Exorcists are very used to being left alone.”

Charlie: “STILL!”

Emily: “I know. I was so angry at first- I didn’t show it, the other children were already hiding under my wings after I’d gathered them up. They didn’t need me getting mad too.”

Charlie: “Didn’t wanna to scare them?”

Emily: “Watching the Exorcists was scary enough.”

Charlie: “I’m trying SO real hard to imagine a happy ending for this.”

Emily: “It’s there, don’t worry. See, one of the children had wandered further than the rest, and was just standing there, frozen. Staring up at.. all that.”

Charlie: “That doesn’t sound happy.”

Emily: “It was so frustrating! I couldn’t get to them without bringing the others even closer too! Some of them could barely move they were so frightened- I tried calling up at the Exorcists, asking them to stop, but they either didn’t hear me or ignored me-”

Charlie: “FUCK that’s just-”

Emily: “But then-”

Charlie: “….”

Emily: “One of them left formation.”

Charlie: (smiling) “Yeah?”

Emily: “She came swooping down, all soaked in blood- not hers, I don’t think. She didn’t look hurt. She landed right in front of the child."

Charlie: “Oh covered in BLOOD that must’ve been, er, something.”

Emily: “It wasn’t great. Poor thing was so scared under her shadow I thought they’d cry.”

Charlie: “Wouldn’t blame them.”

Emily: “Me neither. Those masks… but’s it’s funny, you know, how much a small thing can change everything else.”

Charlie: “She wasn’t as scary as her mask, was she?”

Emily: “No. She was, awkward. I saw her do a little wave and kneel down- later they said she’d talked with them, asked if they were hurt and where their home was.”

Charlie: “Normal stuff.”

Emily: “Strange for an Exorcist. Then she- she offered to take them home. She was still all spattered with-”

Charlie: “Blood. Ew.”

Emily: “I didn’t know what was going on when it happened, I just saw the Exorcist stand up and march right into the sea, right into the waves! She come out clean enough but also. Well. Also sopping wet and a bit um, a bit less scary looking."

Charlie: "Heheh."

Emily: "A lot less scary looking. A little pitiful looking?”

Charlie: “Like Husk after the champagne bottle incident!”

Emily: “Like who?”

Charlie: “Oh our bartender. Long story- but I’ve seen sad and bedraggled wings before. I’d LOVE to see them on an Exorcist!”

Emily: “It was pretty funny. And she didn’t seem to mind the child laughing at her either. If anything I think she made more of a show of shaking herself dry and fluffing up afterwards, once she heard them giggling over it.”

Charlie: “Aww~! She didn’t wanna scare them either!”

Emily: “She was silly. I’d never seen an Exorcist being silly before. The other ones watching didn’t seem to like it. They’d finally stopped fighting and looked like they were muttering to each other… Lute, Adam, even Sera, they're really strict about not having Heaven's army mixing with the rest of Heaven...”

Charlie: “But she- the silly exorcist- she didn’t care.”

Emily: “If she did, it didn’t stop her.”

Charlie: “Did she take the kid home herself then? Once she wasn’t covered in. Uhh. Blood.”

Emily: “She did. The other children were so jealous!”

Charlie: “Jealous??”

Emily: “After she helped wipe off the, the blood spatters on them, she scooped them up and just rocketed into the sky.”

Charlie: “Ohmygosh that's so FUN! Angel piggyback rides are the best!”

Emily: “It looked like it. Exorcists train and practice, and their wings are strong- I knew that but I still don’t think I’ve ever seen someone move like that in the air. Like she was dancing.”

Charlie: “Vaggie says fighting and dancing have a lot in common.”

Emily: “She does?”

Charlie: “Mm-hmm. And if SHE’S any example, then I bet plenty of the Exorcists would be GREAT dancers too! If they bothered not killing people long enough to find out, that is.”

Emily: “If. Right."

Charlie: “…”

Charlie: “….Vaggie stopped. She was, she used to- and it took time but, she stopped.”

Emily: “And Lute cut out her eye for it.”

Charlie: “I don’t think she regrets losing it. Or- it was worth it to her? She.. sometimes it’s almost like she feels like she deserved it.”

Emily: “I hope not. It shouldn’t have happened, it didn’t help anyone.”

Charlie: “No. It really didn’t.”

Emily: “They probably used her as an example of why no one else should do that.”

Charlie: “…well… maybe your Exorcist will still think it’s worth it?”

Emily: “Maybe. If she’s not dead.”

Charlie: “R-right.”

Emily: “And she’s really not mine. I don’t even know her.”

Charlie: “You know enough to care.”

Emily: “To care about someone who might not even deserve it? How does that help anyone-”

Charlie: “EVERYONE deserves to be cared about.”

Emily: “Even-”

Charlie: “Everyone. At least to the point of caring if they’re dead or not.”

Emily: “… you’d make a great angel, Charlie.”

Charlie: “HA! I’m not sure that’s a compliment anymore but uh. Thanks?”

Emily: “I meant it more that, if Sera and Lute and Adam had been more like you, then none of this would have happened. Or if you’d been up here, you would’ve stopped them.”

Charlie: “Ehhh… I kinda think if you couldn’t manage it, I wouldn’t have either..? Definitely NOT alone and not without-”

Emily: “You started the hotel! You had to go against so many people to do that-”

Charlie: “-okay yes but we only JUST got that going. And I only could do THAT because I had…”

Charlie: “…”

Charlie: “It’s easier, with someone who believes in you.”

Emily: “Like a partner?”

Charlie: “Yeah.”

Emily: “A girlfriend.”

Charlie: “….yeah.”

Emily: “And it’s late. I’ll let you get back to her.”

Charlie: “It’s probably okay. She was tired and, she’s a pretty heavy sleeper once she actually falls asleep. You can usually tell when she really conks out because the snoring-”

Charlie: “-oh fuck oh no no no not again DON’T TELL HER I SAID THAT EITHER!”

Emily: “I won’t.” (giggling) “Although I might’ve heard it earlier.”

Charlie: “Fuck. Shit! FUCK!”

Emily: “But I swear on all six of my wings I won’t breathe a word. I also don’t know what happened to you guys- other than a huge traumatic revelation followed by an actual battle for your lives-”

Charlie: “That was a thing, yes.”

Emily: “-but I really hope you two are okay.”

Charlie: “Oh we will be! Weirdly enough, we’re better off now than we were before, even!”

Emily: “Lots of new things you can finally talk about?”

Charlie: “SO many.”

Emily: “Heh. Good. I’m glad something turned out okay from all this.”

Charlie: “And I really hope at least ONE more thing can turn out okay. For you, specifically.”

Emily: “We’ll… we’ll see I guess.”

Charlie: “First thing in the morning. I promise.”

Emily: (breath in) “Okay….” (breathe out) “Thank you.”

Charlie: “Any time. Or, no problem. Or- not that I WANT you to need help identifying bodies again anytime soon, I just meant…”

Emily: (laughs) “I know, Charlie. It’s okay. And it’s also really late. Good night.”

Charlie: “Good n- oh hey wait, Emily!!”

Emily: “-yes?”

Charlie: “What AM I looking for exactly? With the wings.”

Emily: “Oh- You know how Exorcist always those two stripes on theirs? The black bands on their feathers, the undersides.”

Charlie: “Yyyyep, yep. Now that you mention it…”

Emily: “She only had one.”

Charlie: "......"

Charlie: “…one… wing stripe?”

Emily: “It’s how I noticed her at first.”

Charlie: “That’s, that’s rare among Exorcists, huh?”

Emily: “She was the only one with wings like that, I think. Every few years I’d catch sight of her following behind Lute and Adam with a few others, trailing them through the actually populated places in Heaven for once, in full Exorcist gear.”

Charlie: “Well if she, if they were masked, maybe it wasn’t always the same person-”

Emily: “It was. She was easy enough to spot even without the wings, once I knew what to look for.”

Charlie: “Which was…?”

Emily: “She was the only one who’d wave back at the children who waved at her.”

Charlie: “…”

Charlie: “…oh.”

Emily: “Sorry. This is, a pretty depressing thing to go back to sleep after, isn’t it? Try to have some good dreams okay?”

Charlie: “I- I will. I’ll try. Um, you too?”

Emily: “I’ll give my best shot, if I can sleep. Thank you again, Charlie. Night.”

Charlie: “Good night..”

-call ends-

Charlie: “……..”

Muffled voice: “….charlie?”

Charlie: “SHIT!” (bangs head on door) (slips back into bedroom) “I’m here, I’m right here- no no no don’t sit up-!”

Vaggie: “What’s wrong?”

Charlie: “Nothing! Just a phone call. Please lay back down?”

Vaggie: “Something happened. Everyone okay?”

Charlie: “Everyone’s fine- Emily calling for a small favor that’s all- Vaggie c’mon, we just got it so your ribs weren’t getting pressed on…”

Vaggie: “Emily.” (alarmed) “Did Lute try something? Did Sera-?”

Charlie: “NO. Nothing happened to anyone! Now, SIT!”

Vaggie: (sits)

Vaggie: “Something’s wrong.”

Charlie: “Well my girlfriend happens to be one half broken bones and other half tenderized meat and won’t stay still, so THAT’S not exactly great!”

Vaggie: “…..”

Charlie: “…….”

Charlie: (sits too) “…Emily wants help checking the dead Exorcists. She might’ve known one of them.”

Vaggie: “Shit.”

Charlie: “Yeah..”

Vaggie: “But, knew one? How would she know any of us?”

Charlie: “Well…”

Vaggie: “She’s a seraph. The only Exorcist who goes near the higher ups is Lute.”

Charlie: “Right but, just because you never met her doesn’t mean…”

Charlie: (sighs)

Charlie: “It was a LONG talk. Tell you tomorrow?”

Vaggie: "I guess... If you promise to be my pillow and lay down for a while instead of just pacing some more, then yeah, I can wait.”

Charlie: “Okay not fair- I was taking a call!”

Vaggie: “Your hoofbeats were tip tapping through my dreams long before then, babe.”

Charlie: “Motherfucker.”

Vaggie: (chuckling) “Sleep, sweetie.” (drags them down)

Charlie: “Hey don’t act like that wasn’t MY line a moment ago!”

Vaggie: “A moment ago all I knew was something was wrong and you were sad. Now I know just the usual shit is wrong, and you’re dead tired.”

Charlie: “Guess you’re not wrong there…”

Charlie: “….Vaggie?”

Vaggie: “Hmm?”

Charlie: "Do you.. like Emily?"

Vaggie: "Like her? The one not asshole angel up in heaven? She got all fired up with you about the shit unfairness of hell and stuff. What's not to like."

Charlie: "That's not the same as you actually liking her though."

Vaggie: "Hun, we've barely met. It's not like I went on the heaven tour with her."

Charlie: "Buuut.. maybe you'd like to get to know her?"

Vaggie: "Do you want me to get to know her."

Charlie: ".... I just wish there was some part of heaven that... wasn't bad for you."

Vaggie: "Hey, it was heaven. Murder soldier cult thing aside, if we're just talking personal comfort or whatever, it wasn't the worst thing in creation."

Charlie: "Wow what a stunning review! Other than the psychological trauma, it was great!"

Vaggie: "It wasn't that bad. Just you know. Comparatively."

Charlie: "Comparatively?"

Vaggie: "To this. Being here like this, with you."

Charlie: "Hmph."

Charlie: "...."

Vaggie: "..."

Charlie: "... you asleep?"

Vaggie: "Almost. But it feels like you have another question before you're ready for sleep."

Charlie: "You don't have to answer this one."

Vaggie: "Me not answering is kinda what fucked us over before."

Charlie: "It's different now. We can wait until you're ready."

Vaggie: "I'm ready. Ask."

Charlie: "....okay."

Charlie: "Um..."

Charlie: “Was. The sinners you killed-”

Vaggie: “Murdered.”

Charlie: “Murdered, okay. Okay. Were they. Were any of them… kids?”

Vaggie: “….”

Vaggie: “Once.”

Vaggie: “Almost.”

Charlie: “…almost… so, that was the time you stopped.”

Vaggie: “Yes.”

Charlie: “Okay. Because it was a kid?”

Vaggie: “I don’t know.”

Charlie: “What d-”

Vaggie: “I don’t know what I mean. It doesn’t. I don’t think it matters. Charlie- not killing one time isn’t the same as… never having killed.”

Charlie: “I know- I mean, I get that-”

Vaggie: “It doesn’t fix anything, or make anything better.”

Charlie: “It doesn't have to! We’re working on that part together. With the hotel.”

Vaggie: “It's not your thing to have to make up for.”

Charlie: “My home, my people, my friends and my girlfriend. Mine mine mine. And you feel better now you’ve stopped, don’t you?”

Vaggie: “Feeling like a less crappy person also isn’t the same as feeling better.”

Charlie: “It’s not?”

Vaggie: “Thinking you’re a good person, a hero even, is a pretty great feeling. Finding out you’re murderer sucks.”

Charlie: “You ARE a good-!”

Vaggie: “Charlie. Please?”

Charlie: “….”

Charlie: “What about when I hug you?”

Vaggie: “… hard not to feel lucky as hell, then.”

Charlie: “Good” (hugs) "Me too."

Vaggie: “Kinda hard to hug back while I’m lying half on top of you… Would a wing snuggle be alright?”

Charlie: “It won’t hurt your ribs??”

Vaggie: “No. I could use a stretch, honestly.”

Charlie: “Then gimme the floofies!”

Vaggie: “Yeah?”

Charlie: “GIMME GIMME~”

Vaggie: "Floofies at your service." (wings go floof) (snuggles one over charlie) “I’m glad they came back.. different.”

Charlie: “With the gray?”

Vaggie: “Mm. Thoughts?”

Charlie: “GRAY-t! They go WAY better with your hair now!”

Vaggie: (chuckling) “Nice. Girlfriend approved."

Charlie: "And it's lucky we ARE girlfriends, or else your pretty wings would have girls FLOCKING to you!"

Vaggie: "Right." (SNORTS) "Night, Charlie.”

Charlie: “If you’re wishing me goodnight to try stoping the wing puns, please know there’s more where that came from! I am in no way winging it here.”

Vaggie: “I figured.”

Charlie: "I really do love your wings, Vaggie."

Vaggie: "Really helps they don't look like they used to."

Charlie: "Hmm. Is the anything other than the color different?"

Vaggie: "... Isn't that enough?"

Charlie: "I don't mean it like that! It's just, well, they only have one stripe on them, and the other exorcists-"

Vaggie: "They were like that before. Sorry."

Charlie: "Vaggie I don't NEED them to look different. I'm just, curious!"

Vaggie: "Uh-huh."

Charlie: "Really! Did any of the other exorcists have-?"

Vaggie: "No."

Charlie: "None of them? Ever?"

Vaggie: "Not since I took up vanguard duty. Or since. Looks like Lute got rid of the position after I- after getting rid of me. Now they just all stream down into hell all at once. No one scouts ahead." (mutters) "Messy."

Charlie: "Huh."

Vaggie: "So I guess my wings didn't change that much really."

Charlie: "If they'd stayed exactly the same I would have loved them."

Vaggie: "Not sure I'd want you to."

Charlie: "Too bad. They're part of you. They're part of the most amazing woman I've ever met.... If you like them better now though, that's good. Maybe you. Maybe you'll feel like having them out more?"

Vaggie: "We'll see."

Charlie: "BUT I want eternal dibs on the wing hugs."

Vaggie: "What? You staking a claim?"

Charlie: "Yes absolutely. My wing hugs, okay?" (hugs tighter) "Mine."

Vaggie: "Okay." (chuckling) (relaxing) "They're all yours, babe." (snuggling in) “Love you...”

Charlie: “Love you too, Vaggie.”

Charlie: (smooches gf's forehead) “Goodnight…”

Vaggie: (already asleep)

Charlie: “…..”

Charlie: (traces the one stripe on Vaggie’s wing)

Charlie: "...you probably could have been happy up there... if they'd let you."

Charlie: (wipes face)

Charlie: “… fuck heaven.”

Vaggie: (SNORES)

Charlie: (grins) (still teary-eyed) “Exactly.”

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #emily hazbin hotel #chaggie #vaggie #incorrect quotes #VERY incorrect #angst and fluff #au where vaggie's one stripe wings made her stand out back up in heaven #vaggie the chronic softie for kids au #Charlie Will Be Friends With Emily No Matter How Big Of A Jerk The Rest Of Heaven Is #emily can have some more angst. as a treat #does vaggie like emily yet?? no #is she worried heaven might fuck with her???? Yes.#local hell princess depressed at the thought that her gf might have had a good life up in heaven-#-if only the heavenly murder cult hadn't gotten her

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kurosstuff · 8 months ago

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Gorgon Rosie x GN Bunny Reader but make it horror related smut. Or if you don't wanna do Rosie- Dragon Lute

<3<3<3<3

Thank you lovely~ im.. not to sure if this was for the event or not but I do love monster aus so- either way

Maybe I'll do a dragon lute if someone requests it♡♡

Warning(s): predator x prey, G!P rosie, smut, she messes with you, not right autonomy(rosie has a lower had of snake tail. And she has a dick so-?) Kinda horror kinda not? Idk, ruts/cycles? Kinda horror smut(If you consider her teasing taunts of eatting you) gn reader but afab, breeding attempts/talks, eggs? Idk

Gorgon!Rosie x Bunny!GN!reader: prey? Or more.

Getting lost in the woods wasn't always good- especially for being a prey. You could hold your own against some predators. But being a small bunny- against something like a wolf? Or any other creature out here?

Where you live? Nope. Can't do much besides running with your legs anywhere you can be- panting you stopped and looked around- ears twitching to pick up any noises you could hear slowly you walked deeper into the path- the thick woods forming almost a wall from how close the trees grew to one another

"Safe..I'm - I'm safe," you repeated to yourself unnerved by how quiet it was. The faint chirps of birds so far away. As if they didn't wanna be close to here. As If this is a place no one was dared to go.

Something told you- it wasn't safe. Alert, you glanced around, ready to leave at an actual moment if you needed. Taking a deep breath you stepped over a huge odd looking log- the almost red in it would have caught your attention if it weren't for your nerves being to shot.

Nor did you see the log move into the woods to hide

The deeper you went in, the more quiet it got. Taking a deep breath, you stopped. You reached a dead end. The unbelievably soft ground on your Paws making your ears strain twitching to pick up any noise.

Nothing.

Your ear twitched- now all the sudden, deathly nervous. Nervous on how silent this side of the forest got even more- looking around your tail twitched in fear legs shaking as if ready for run at any given moment but you couldn't run.

You were being watched.

Narrowing your eyes, you swallowed, trying to see anything out of the ordinary- but nothing did. It looked like a normal part of the trees- shifting together to hide this section off. Nervously, you played with your fingers as you counted. Your heart beating in your ears almost deafening you from how loud it was being-

How scared you were.

Closing your eyes, you tried to calm down. To relax. To convince yourself it's ok - you ok. No one's there. You're alone. A shift of movement above you caught your attention - a deep shiver ran down your back. Opening your eyes in the darkness, you could make out something - didn't take long to figure out it was a tail. A long tail moving up into the trees- up high

Whatever it was? Wanted you to notice.

It blended so well into the well it was like nothing was there. Yet it was moving- the only indication to you it wasn't an odd looking branch- no. It was alive.

Slowly, you looked up, seeing a figure in the trees hidden almost like they weren't truly there, but you knew they were watching you. A slow hiss escaped the figure, making you shake, backing up more, looking around. Glancing up the figure appeared to be a female as she stared down watching your every move. Didn't take long to realize-

Your standing in a nest.

"A adorable bunny out here alone?" a soft hiss echoed through out the forest making you shake your ear twitching as the mystery woman in the tree cooed "Oh poor darling~ I'm so sorry~" a soft hiss escaped her as she slithered down revealing herself to you finally-

Making you pale- tearing up. you're gonna die, no doubt about it. Of all gorgons. Of ALL predators. IT had to be her. Rosie. A cannibal of all things - one who wasn't above eating her own kind. Who was the most deadliest of them all

And now you- a bunny. Is in her nest wandered a bit to far to escape from the cold harsh air "darling~? Did you not hear me? Would you care for a cup of tea?"

Jolting you looked up at her tearfully- oh that adorable look~ if it weren't for her genuinely curious of you- she would have just eaten you the moment you stepped into her territory. Her home.

Her nest.

Blinking you nod foot tapping nervously as her long- long red spotted tail nudged you forward with her- "y-yes ma'am im- I'm sor-"

"No, no! No need to be sorry, dear little bunny~ I don't mind some company~" an odd dangerous glint in her eyes. You may be clueless on some things of other species. But you're no fool to this one.

Rosie is trying to figure out if she were to eat you. Or not. Oh, how you hope she doesnt- so you allow her to push ypu onto a table as the turns making a cup of tea. Her tail close to you- as If you stepped out she'd know. And you knew that-

"Bunny~? I do certainly hope you're not trying to run~ I do certainly love a chase of my food, but. You're not my food~" Turning to you, she winked "so relax for now~ sit back and just.. drink up~?" Purring placing the cup in front of you as she slithered so close to you

Glancing around, you looked for a chair seeing none, you choked, finally speaking "where.. where do I sit?" Making her pause in thought glancing at you- Making you squeek- humming, she moved, coiling her tail behind you

"I don't need a chair. I use my tail, but it's long enough to share~" she purred, gently nudging you to sit back on her tail, humming you, curled up slightly you gently tool the cup thanking her as you sipped. It's surprisingly good. "I do enjoy tea. Me and my darling friend do adore the beverage.. shame not alot of people like it nor partake in trying to make one" she hummed.

Making you flinch. Right. Rosie's friend- didn't take much to figure out. She meant that deer- Alastor. A cannibal just like her. Both such scary creatures. You were surprised they got along so well- but you supposed it made sense. Cannibals seemed to always prefer the comfort of those similar in these woods after all. Shivering you sighed- you have to remember.

Just because shes docile now. Doesn't mean she always will be.

Just like her best friend. She's well known for her sudden attacks. Against those she deemed not as food. Something akin to amusement. A sick twisted amusement that Alastor is also known to partake in.

Not even cause their hungry. But because they can

Your foot thumped against her tail nervously- a way to show your discomfort. Your fear of the chance to be eaten. To be taken and gobbled up by the Gorgon lady

"My~ look it here~" rosie called out lifting your foot up as you drank, her deep black eyes gazing- dispite no pupils you knew what she was looking at- the Paws- squeaking loudly once she poked at it gently with her Claws "My lucky bunny's foot~ no?"

There it is.

That dangerous glint on her face.

You had to remind yourself despite her kind nature at the moment. She's a dangerous predator the- WORST one you could have run into from the Gorgons side. Gulping your ears flickered as she hummed, pushing on the paw pads

Making you thump- gasping- snickering her tail slowly coiled around you "now now~ bunny if you do that- I may just eat you~" she purred out hearing your whines as she Messed with you "I see. So it is sensitive, huh?"

It was silent as she watched you twist groan and moan in her tail her eyes becoming so much darker if that was possible

"Bunny, listen. I'm gonna jump right to it- I'll only say and ask this once, " she suddenly spoke gently, squeezing you to get your focus."I want to breed you." She purred out, smiling that same dangerous glint in her eyes. Maybe the glint was wrong- "I can smell it you know. So can any other nearby. Your cycle started- it is around that time for bunnies no~?" She cooed out gently

Silent as she waited for your answer, drinking her tea, making you take in that smell you noted earlier about her. Making you squeak again, seeing an amused smirk on her face. It's the snakes mating season too.

And rosie is a Gorgon.

A snake.

"I'll take a no. I'm no monster, " Rosie spoke up humming. Seeing the nervous look in your eyes, she sighed, "I am a cannibal a predator who eats literally everyone-" hearing her admit it allowed did nothing to settle your racing heart. It didn't matter if you knew already. Gently cupping your face, she frowned. "I'd never force anyone to mate with me. I'm very keen on consent. It's very important after all"

Now that - oddly did comfort you. Blinking your ears twitched in thought, glancing around before slowly nodding, "i.. I'll mate with you" you whispered, making her hum in approval. Standing up easily, carrying you back to her nest

Moving into it, her tail curled around your body as If to hug you "now.. don't be so shaky little bunny~ I'll take good care of you~" Rosie purred out, kissing you gently, moving to strip you after again getting permission- your feet thumped nervously as she hummed

"How.. how do we-" gesturing to her lower half making her laugh softly "sorry was- that rude i- um-" kissing you deeply she hummed hissing softly

"I do have a dick." Rosie started grinding against you slightly."Just need to prep myself~ "I'll easily slip in ok~?" Kissing you deeply groaning softly panting against your lips

Yelping feeling something poking you glancing down, you finally noticed it - making her smirk "is- Is that -" you stuttered, trailing off as she nodded slowly you willingly opening your legs for her- on either side of her waist-

Inviting her

Humming, her tail curls more around you as she panted, rubbing the slit on herself as she started to poke out more "i- did anyone ever tell you not to play with your f-food?" You choked out as she hummed laughing as she pulled out fully pumping herself- it looked odd. But you knew a dick when you saw one.

"Who said fucking my food before I eat is playing?" Rosie purred out moaning moving close panting heaving rubbing her tip on your entrance "I know how bunny's are. Their unsatisfied. Sex crazed beasts, no? Such a soft cuddly creature that can go all night with no rest~" Without waiting, she slowly pushed in growling as you moaned, stretching around her, welcoming her in "fuck so tight~" such an off thing to hear such a old fashioned lady to swear

But like always, the kindness she held for you didn't change. She willed her hips to stop once her tip was in. Resting inside you as she awaited your approval, leaning close, she kissed your tears away, praising you softly nuzzling into you "ill be gentle~ don't wanna break my darling bunny no~?"

"O-oh~" you moaned out softly, panting heavily flushed dark holding onto her tail as it comforting laid under- on- all over you. Yet didn't crush you- just stayed as if to bring you comforting- your ears drooped twitching as she moved deeper into you, stretching you out more to fit her groaning loudly under her

"That's it~ I've got you~" she moaned, growling out kissing your neck gently as she pushed fully into you. "Now warning~ I'll be as gentle as I can, but.. Given the season, I may not be~" she growled out, moving into you, slowly, hands roaming all over as she bit down on your neck, making you whine loudly sobbing out

"Wh- I thought you said you weren't gonna eat me yet-!"

Humming moving into you faster, panting ignoring your question as she licked your bloodied neck groaning, "feels so good~ think you'll get pregnant?" She teased feeling you squeeze her as she pounded roughly into you "kidding~ got no eggs ready yet anyways~ maybe in the later season?" Moaning out loudly

Moving faster, rutting into you she moved biting anywhere she could hard enough to bleed. You weren't sure if she was mating you- or trying to sooth her other hunger.

Either way it made it all so much hotter.

Hearing your cries and moans of her name made her snarl uncharacteristically wild- like that when she's starved. In this case she supposed she was. Not in the feeding way no- in the way she wants you for herself. As a mate.

Her mate.

The thought made her groan pounding faster, twitching deeply inside you- "wait- are- are you gonna cum inside-" you sobbed out arms losely around her next as she claimed you- took you for herself. Marking you up as hers- her bunny- her mate.

You didn't mind if she did-

"Of course darling bunny~ i-i gotta properly breed you, no?" Rosie stuttered out groaning, panting her black pupil-less eyes staring down at you as she licked the blood off her lips- your blood.

God, was it hot.

Humming, she twitched more inside you, her pace unrelenting but now- sloppy as she fought to not come yet. Leaning down kissing your question, I am well aware of what you were about to ask "I will not come before you do~ my darling bunny I want to feel you- come on~ I can feel it~" she growled nipping at your bruised lips swallowing your moans and cries "come on~ don't you wanna come on my cock~?"

That- brought you even closer to the edge- and she knew it from how she smirked cocky at how you broke around her- even more - as you finally came around her harshly screaming out her name arching your back

"That's my good bunny~" Rosie moaned out watching you closely pounding rougher bring her cock out to the tip before ramming herself back in- the one thing on her mind- oh she truly can't wait to Have you all to herself for the whole season

Panting heavily holding your bruised Clawed up waist, she pushed as deep as she could inside you, releasing deep into you, claiming you on the inside like she did the out. "Fuck~" a curse falling from her lips as she fell forward slumped onto your chest smirking panting at the squeak you made

Staying nestled inside you the best she could- for as long as she could. Feeling her cock slip right back inside herself groaning "did so good my bunny ~" nuzzling you leaning back she grabbed a towel she kept on the side to clean you up smirking at how you gushed of her- humming in approval of her attempt

Laying slumped feeling hee uncoil around you whining- knowing now it's time. She's gonna eat you like she's talked about. Hinted at- but she moves coiling around herself you in her arms cuddled close to steal your warmth- it made you confused

"Your.. not gonna eat me?" You choked out- holding onto her arms, making her stop - staring confused before she hummed

"No. I won't eat my mate, of course, "pulling you close to her chest, ignoring your questions "sleep. Need rest no? For now. Then I'll mate you again and again-" she purred kissing you- her mate gently making you freeze flushed

Smiling, you curled up comfortably in her arms with the help of Rosie to move your legs. You hummed moving to nuzzle into her happily.

You couldn't wait to see what she had in store for you

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin rosie #hazbin hotel rosie #rosie x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #MONSTER AU

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arcadekitten · 10 months ago

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The Lambchop World is so fascinating and cool… but I’d like to know more about it as well! What’s the economy like there? Do people still have jobs, buy and sell stuff like supplies, clothing, food, etc… just like they do in Stella’s town?

(Also, speaking of which.., is everyone’s wardrobe that emo/gothic? Did Lambchop force it to be? Because I love Stella but those clothes are REALLY not her style! I really hope that Lambchop didn’t force her into wearing them… that’s leaning a bit too much into “toxic relationship power imbalance” for me)

What’s the general attitude of the population? Are they all violent, bloodthirsty and prickly besides Stella or do some of them retain their normal personalities? Do they lean in more towards their “animalistic” side (like Ruuuby eating Buck) or do they still eat normal food? …WHERE would they get normal food? Is it all meat and cannibalism??

Also, assuming that Lambchop goes after the whole WORLD instead of just a small village like Stella did… is death common there? Or does Lambchop resurrect them to “have some more fun” on his planet? Are his powers that of a normal Star witch as well? I’m so curious if it is!

And finally… what are Stella and Lambchop’s roles and relationship on this planet? Lambchop seems to live just like a common “resident” of that planet… getting into riots, street fights, etc. What does Stella do though? Is she just Lambchop’s personal nurse who takes care of him after he gets into fights or something?

This seems to be an anarchic world, so I doubt that their’ll be a government or any form of legal system there.., but I am curious if there is some sort of “gang hierarchy” on this place, like the most respected fighters are the rulers of certain territories and clans or something. It’ll make sense for his world, and I wonder if he’s in the “top hierarchy” or something like that, considering that he literally CREATED the world lol. Do the other residents have respect or are intimidated by him? What do they think of Stella?

P.S: Kinda a dumb question but are Stella and Lambchop in a relationship in this AU? Do they date and have a house (or a joint living area maybe) and live together or something? How do they treat each other? I like to think that Lambchop treats Stella…well, like allowing her a small garden to plant some flowers and have a semblance of normalcy in their home. Kind of like how Stella bloodied up her village for Lambchop, but much less drastic.

And for the million-dollar question: What on EARTH are the other Star Witches when Stella needs them??? Did they abandon her or something?

These are A LOT of questions, I’ll admit… Im rly sorry if this is too much :( But I’m just so curious about this world; the idea is absolutely fascinating to me!! Thank u sm for reading all this!! :D

oh this will be fun!! *cracks knuckles for the second time* I'll try to answer best I can!

-The economy is a bit strange. I think some people still kinda have jobs and make money, but money alone is probably not valued as much as "substances" or "favors" (Ex: "Get that fucker out of my bar and you'll get free drinks for the whole night" )

-Everyone's wardrobe is pretty emo-gothic, but I wouldn't describe it as a "Lambchop forced it to be" situation so much as. In the vision of Lambchop's perfect world this is just how society dresses. And so Stella dressing like this is more of a societally pressured thing. For one, there's probably not other clothing options. And if there is, dressing in a way that strays from the norm would be like affixing a giant target to her back--everyone would be trying to start shit with her. It's safer to blend in so people don't think you're soft.

-Most everyone is pretty prickly. And if they are "nice", it's a kind of niceness that incorporates violence into the mix--otherwise you'd be down for the count. Everyone's probably on "high defense mode" all the time and is just waiting for you to be the one that growls first.

-Most food is probably meat based. I don't imagine that everyone is just eating whoever they slaughter on the street (though some might) but rather there's some mysterious "meat processing" plants. Where's the meat come from? Don't spoil it by asking questions.

-I don't think Lambchop has any sort of special/magic powers that set him aside from everyone else. I think it's less of a "Lambchop controlling the world to be this way" and more of "The world itself shaping itself around his desires." Death is pretty common, though I hadn't considered the possibility of people coming back in this version too...interesting to think about.

-I think the possibility of some gang hierarchies exist, but I hadn't put too much thought into it. I do think some people might be more well-known either for being really good fighters and/or for starting trouble a lot. I feel like Lambchop wouldn't be the most well-known but might have a bit of a rep for being able to take people down.

-Combining some of your Stella questions into one, Stella's relationship with the planet is pretty...fraught. I think she's still got magic powers but they're nowhere near the the level of skill she's got in Sweet No Death. At most she can perform small magic, making things grow, levitating some smaller objects, etc. I feel like Stella's status as a star witch is vague even to herself--like maybe she got amnesia upon landing here, but she knows that things could surely be better than this... Stella tries to help people and sometimes they accept it and sometimes they don't, but when they do allow her to help she feels good inside and it helps restore a bit of her hope in the world.

I like to imagine that maybe Lambchop and Stella found each other when Stella was attempting to "fix" things instead of breaking them like everyone else, and Lambchop was a bit captivated by how different she was from everyone else. Stella would in turn see him as different from everyone else--less prickly, more smiley, and likes her company.

I think Lambchop and Stella are dating. They live in some dank, decrepit apartment building which probably isn't even owned by anyone anymore and they might be the only people in it. Stella's got something of a greenhouse on the balcony where she grows as many little plants as she can keep alive and can enjoy the feeling of fresh air for once.

Despite the general violence of the city and Lambchop preferring things this way, he and Stella have a pretty lovey relationship. They sleep in the same bed all cuddled up next to each other every night. If Stella is having a bad mental day (can't handle the stress of everything, being worried something really bad will happen to Lambchop if he goes out, etc) Lambchop will stay home with her and they'll spend the day snuggling and kissing and maybe working in her greenhouse. When Stella goes out Lambchop usually tries to be beside her. She's able to defend herself but he knows she doesn't *like* having to do that, so he doesn't mind being her bodyguard for anyone who would want to pick a fight with her. Sometimes they even try to go on dates outside despite how crazy everything is. When Lambchop gets into fights Stella bandages all his wounds when he gets hurt. She hates seeing him hurt but she loves seeing his smile as he recounts to her how he won. I think she uses whatever magic she has to help expedite his healing process.

-As for Star Witches, the thing about Star Witches is like...they are catty and judgemental but if you are another Star Witch they will not help you improve unless it benefits them in some way. They will come into your house and might adjust a crooked picture frame on the wall, but they won't clean up your kitchen or tidy up your living room or do your yard work for you. If they were to see a world like this they would not help it try to get better because it is not their monkeys, not their circus.

#i hope i answered everything?! i think?!#this is fun #this also goes under the assumption that is a different way for their world to be #rather than stella doing anything to make the world this way FOR him #maybe she'd do this as like a birthday present for a day idk #sweet no death #witchywool #stellamb #stella #lambchop #ask

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deathbxnny · 1 year ago

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hello!! may i request stelerron hunters with a teen!vampire reader? (reader around 14-16)

basically elio picked them up from a deserted planet, and they were the sole survivor on it,all of the population died due to lack of livestock, and elio found them alive, thirsty and hungry

though they dont have much problem eating or drinking their enemies, they will never hurt their teammates even if they saw them with scars/blood, and would hold themselves, sometimes even bite on their arm/wrist/hand so that they dont succumb to their thirst

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A/N: Ooh, I really like the idea! Kinda reminds me of "Seraph of the end" (I've been waiting on season 3 for years now and am losing hope-)! Thank you for the request and sorry for the wait!<33

Content: TW!Slight gore warning? (Just mentions, nothing descriptive), Platonic relationships, mentions of blood, mentions of battles/fights, Reader is a Teen and a vampire, questionable cannibalism?? (Idk if it counts-), angst if you squint, fluff

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not fully proofread))

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》Kafka

Kafka was instantly intrigued by you. She found it interesting, that your kind could only live off of blood, although she did also feel bad for your people. You were the only one to survive and thankfully strong enough to help the organisation out, which is why she was assigned to be your caretaker.

At first, she assumed that you'd drink anyone's blood indiscriminately, as your thirst and hunger was too strong to resist. The way you tore into your enemies for their blood was proof enough. It was a brutal, yet somewhat satisfying sight for Kafka, who already found it amusing, that a young kid like you could do so much harm.

But what she didn't expect, was your loyalty to her. The first time she got injured around you, you immideatly bit into your arm to stop yourself from succumbing to your urges. This surprised her greatly, but also caused her to appreciate you more. It also made her realise that she was wrong. You weren't just a mindless, blood drinking vampire after all.

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》Blade

Blade didn't think much of you at first. A creature that had to drink blood in order to survive was pathetic in his eyes. But seeing you in such a sad and lonely state made him begrudgingly accept to become your caretaker then. Besides, if you ever dared bite him, nothing would happen to him anyways.

With that said, he certainly trained you well for the battlefield. He wanted you to become strong and useful, a perfect weapon for the organisation. But he was much softer on you than he admitted to be. Every time you did well and satisfied your hunger during a battle against enemies, he'd nod his head and pat your head in acknowledgement.

He was surprised however, when you refused to succumb to your urges and bite him too. It took him aback, as he viewed it as a sign or respect and loyalty towards him he didn't know how to handle. And so he quietly thanked you by supplying you with more enemies to drink from.

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》Silver Wolf

Silver Wolf didn't really care that you were a vampire. In fact, she didn't bother questioning it and just casually took you in. Whether it was because she found you cool or because she actually felt bad, is something you'll never find out either.

Whatever the reason was, she definitely took good care of you and fed you well at that. You kept her safe whenever you were in highstake situations and enemies were closing in on you. She always counted on you covering her whilst she continued working, as it gave you the perfect opportunity to drink your fill.

She also always somehow knew, that you'd never dare attack her. She always made sure you drank enough to satiate your hunger and so she wasn't worried, when she got injured infront of you. You controlled yourself well and respected her enough not to dare it. And Silver Wolf definitely appreciated you for it.

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A/N: Alright, i hope this was okay! Thank you again for the request!<33

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr blade #hsr blade x reader #hsr kafka #hsr kafka x reader #hsr silver wolf #hsr silver wolf x reader #hsr

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devildom-moss · 1 year ago

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Hello first of all i just wanna say that i love your writings! Especially on how you write solomon it always gives me butterflies 🦋👌

Can i request something like, an alternate, smutty ending for his recent ur card i forgot the name but its where mc and him watched a horror movie and mc got a nightmare after that so sol offered to sleep together, because it had SO much potential. Gn!mc if you may.

That is all thank you so much for sharing your works with us have a nice day and stay hydrated! ⭐️

Thank you so much. I hope that this Solomon fic will also provide you with butterflies. Luckily, I had this card, so I was able to pull from the original story line better. I'll be honest, my own personally kind of dark-loving and horny brain influenced the first half of this a lot. Anyway, I hope you like it! I'm sorry it took soooo long.

For anyone who doesn't have the card or just wants a useful refresher: Solomon had MC watch a "The Silence of the Lambs"-esque movie with him. They decide to sleep in Solomon's room together because why not - but Solomon has a guest bed, so you sleep in separate beds. MC has a nightmare about Solomon going all Hannibal Lecter on them. Solomon wakes them up (MC was moaning in their sleep), and Solomon decides that they should share a bed to help MC sleep. I picked up the story in the nightmare, because I spell it whore-or.

Solomon - The Gourmand's Main Dish card alt ending (NSFW)

(Solomon x gn!MC)

(NSFW) (NSFW tags: switch(ish)!Solomon and MC, bottom!Solomon, top!MC, light bondage, oral - receiving, Solomon riding MC's cock/strap on, hands free riding, begging, check-in's and overall very sweet sex, a bit of fear-play kinda?, implied intent to cockwarm, me writing Solomon as a loud, moaning mess) (other tags: dark themes, mentions of cannibalism, MC is a little unhinged in the face of dream/evil Solomon, some awkward moments, blood, knifeplay?, some of the dark themes written with a hint of sexiness)

Word Count: +2700

“Try the Demonus, my dear,” Solomon cooed, sliding a chilled glass filled with a sweet-smelling red liquid towards you.

The moonlight shining through the large dining room windows brought a soft cool glow that balanced out the warmth of the candlelight, creating an odd natural white. It left you unnerved, as if when Solomon had woken you up for breakfast, you were still stuck in a hauntingly quiet Devildom night – not that the lighting was ever much different between night and morning in the Devildom anyway. Maybe you just didn’t feel right because you could have sworn you fell asleep in Solomon’s room last night, only to have him wake you up in your own bed. It was all so disorienting that you wished the effects of Demonus worked on humans. You could stand to chill your nerves a bit.

The looming threat of Solomon’s breakfast offer – one that he advertised as a special treat for you – also weighed heavy on your mind. When he brought out what he referred to as “the appetizer,” which he had made a point to whisper into your ear as he set your plate in front of you, the fear of having to politely decline more than one dish came over you.

Admittedly, the dish that Solomon brought out looked surprisingly edible, but you refused to be fooled. The temptation continued as Solomon gracefully brought the fork to his lips. He had even dressed up in a fine suit for the occasion; it seemed a shame not to give him a chance. However, your better judgment held firm as you sipped at the glass of Demonus. Your eyes couldn’t leave Solomon, and the light that reflected off his soft, silver hair only made him more enchanting. His eyes were dark and hungry as his gaze flashed up at you.

“Oh, my dear, what’s the matter?” His eyes softened up, and an off-putting smile formed along his pretty pink lips. “Are you not hungry yet?”

“I’m sorry. I’m not very hungry this morning.”

“That’s a shame,” he let out a gentle chuckle, “but perhaps you’ll change your mind for the main course. I still have to prepare it, but it will be well worth the wait, my dear.”

Solomon pat his mouth with a napkin before he stood and left the room. His return was accompanied by a cold metallic scrape. You turned your head to see him sharpening a large knife as he slowly approached the table. You gulped. His ominous gait and deliberate strikes along the edge of the blade instilled a dread in you that only dug deeper into your chest when you realized that – barring the knife and sharpening rod – Solomon had returned empty-handed.

To your recollection, although you had scarcely taken your eyes off Solomon during the appetizer, there wasn’t another dish on the table. However, you were too afraid to double check; you weren’t sure what would happen if you looked away from him now. Solomon stopped directly at your side, forcing you to stare up at the wicked grin on his lips. You felt frozen in that chair.

“I feel honored that you can’t seem to pull your gaze away from me today. You must be so sweet.” That was a strange way to phrase it, and his words did nothing to reduce your growing unease. The tension in your body was different than the usual nervousness Solomon caused in the pit of your stomach.

“What’s the main course, Solomon?” you asked anxiously, despite the heavy lump in your throat. Somehow, you were already certain of his answer and were just seeking confirmation.

Solomon leaned down to whisper in your ear, “why, it’s you, of course.”

And there it was: confirmation. Solomon dragged the tip of the blade up your thigh. You held your breath and waited for the gentle scraping sound to stop. Solomon continued to drag the knife up your stomach. You squirmed back into your seat, attempting to put some distance between the knife and your body, but that displeased Solomon.

He clicked his tongue and quickly brought the blade to your throat. “Nuh-uh-uh. Please, don’t struggle. I want to take my time carving you up nice and pretty, but if you’re going to squirm, I’ll slice up that soft little throat first. Now, behave, and allow me, my little lamb.”

You let out a shaky breath as Solomon dropped the knife down to your chest. He cut the top button of your shirt off, using the dull edge of the blade to pull your collar back. If only you could get the knife out of his hand without getting injured – but some sick, depraved hope kept you still as you watched Solomon’s wicked gaze light up.

A dull sting accompanied the ring of metal running against a surface and Solomon’s contented sigh. You could feel the blood beading up along the skin just above your collar bone. Solomon kept the knife pressed against your abdomen as he licked along the cut, stopping to suck on your skin. The sting of his saliva and the cut didn’t detract from the pleasure of his tongue and lips on you as much as you would have preferred. A shiver ran up your spine.

It was said that fortune favors the bold; perhaps boldness could preserve you. Somewhat abashed, you asked, “are we going to fuck first?”

Solomon stopped sucking on your skin and pulled away, still leaving the knife against you. He clicked his tongue. “Now, now. Don’t be vulgar. It’s impolite.”

“I’m sorry,” you lied. Annoyance briefly overcame your fear, “cursing is impolite, but non-consensual cannibalism is fine. Understood.”

“MC.”

“No, my bad.” you shut your eyes and sighed. “I misread the situation. Just – listen – go ahead. But if I find out you waited until after I was dead, I’m going to be so disappointed in you. Honestly, Solomon.”

“MC!” Solomon’s voice seemed to echo throughout the room so loudly that you felt the entire house shake. When you opened your eyes again, Solomon was leaning over you, concern overflowing in his eyes. That eerie smile was gone.

You weren’t in the dining room anymore. You were back in Solomon’s bedroom.

“Are you okay, MC?” Solomon stroked your cheek with the back of his fingers. His cool hand eased some of the tension in your body. You smiled up at him, nodding. This was the Solomon you knew and loved. A sigh of relief left Solomon’s lips and his shoulders relaxed. However, his face was more flustered than before, and he was tinted pink up to his ears. “You were moaning in your sleep. You weren’t dreaming about me, were you?”

“I was,” you admitted. “You tried to eat me!”

Solomon’s eyes went wide. “I did?”

“You were going to carve me up and have MC-sashimi.”

“Oh,” Solomon nearly choked on his assumptions. You meant eat literally. Shame and guilt overtook Solomon’s embarrassment when he realized you had a nightmare, and it was probably because he made you watch that movie right before bed. “I’m so sorry, MC. This is my fault. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

“Can you stay with me – at least for a while?” In truth, you felt better after seeing Solomon’s sweet face again – not that evil, dream Solomon, but the real one. You just wanted to be closer to him. You moved over, giving him a bit more room to join you.

Solomon crawled into bed and turned on his side to face you. “It’s a bit of a squeeze, but I kind of like being so close to you. Maybe we should have slept in the same bed to begin with. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Can you hold me?” you asked. Solomon looked flustered again.

“I actually – well, I can, but,” Solomon tried to find the right words. “I got a bit hard after hearing you moaning so much in your sleep. I’m sorry! It happened before I realized you were in distress. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, but if you don’t mind it, I’ll hold you.”

You chuckled and sat up so you could crawl over Solomon and push him on his back. He was still blushing as he stared up at you. “How could I have been so scared in my dream? You’re being adorable right now.”

You trailed kisses down the side of his neck, catching the faintest tremble of his pulse under your lips as his heart began to race. A stifled moan vibrated in his throat. Solomon was biting his lip just to restrain his need. You weren’t going to give him that, so you kissed him. Even if he wanted to be quiet, you were the only one who was going to bite his lips.

Perhaps the roles were reversed in the real world. You had Solomon captured, and you wanted to eat him up. Your tongue teased him, and his moaning was increasingly desperate. Solomon’s restraint was crumbling. You felt him grind his hips up into you, craving more friction.

“Please, MC,” Solomon whined, “if you keep going, I won’t be able to hold back.”

You refused to heed his warning. Instead, you egged him on. “Then don’t hold back.”

One of your hands dipped between your bodies to rub over the bulge in Solomon’s pants. He took advantage of your diminished support to flip you on your back and straddle your hips. As he dipped down to kiss your neck, you felt his erection rub against your lower abdomen. The tremble in his breath tickled your skin as he made his way down. Solomon stopped at your collarbone and lapped at it with his hot tongue before he started to suck on it.

Your mind flashed back to the way dream Solomon had sucked on you, and a wave of fright washed over you. You pushed against Solomon’s chest gently.

“I’m sorry,” Solomon apologized as he sat back up. “Did I do something wrong? Do you want to stop?”

“No, I don’t. I just. . .” you trailed off. You knew it was silly to be afraid – especially because even when you were afraid in the dream, you were still turned on. It was confusing, and that was all the more reason to want to forget about it and just focus on fucking Solomon.

Solomon could see the worry on your face, and he correctly guessed that it had something to do with the nightmare you had. A characteristically Solomon idea popped into his mind, and, impeded by desire and without a second thought, he offered, “you could let me eat you.”

“What?!” Your breath caught in your throat.

Just as you were about to struggle under him, Solomon got off you with a gentle smile. He walked to his dresser and pulled a deep red silk scarf from the top drawer. You stared at him, cautious and confused. Solomon stood at the foot of the bed, turned his back to you, and crossed his arms at the wrists behind him.

“Can you tie these nice and secure for me?” Solomon chimed with a playful tone. He stood there patiently as you slowly shuffled to the edge of the bed. You took the red scarf from his hand and tied his wrists together snuggly.

“What now?” you asked.

Solomon turned around and looked down at you with a shy grin. He dropped to his knees at the foot of the bed, turning his eyes up to you. “Use my mouth however you want.”

You mouthed “oh” and sat down in front of Solomon. He could tell you were anxious, and he just wanted you to feel comfortable. You wanted the same for him.

“Can you back up for a second, sweetheart?” you asked him, and he complied. You stood up and slid out of your pants and underwear, setting them on the floor on the other side of Solomon’s bed, before you sat back down. You reached behind you to grab one of Solomon’s pillows and placed it on the floor right in front of your feet – a cushion for Solomon to kneel on. He smiled up at you, surprised and delighted by your simple act of care; his heart was melting and threatening to flood his chest.

When you opened your legs, Solomon took that as permission to approach. He settled into his spot at your feet – between your legs. Those soft, hazel eyes stared up at you, eager and hungry. Solomon wet his lips, looking as if he was about to beg “please.” And he was. “Please, can I taste you?”

He was too cute for words, so you snaked your fingers into his hair and pulled him gently towards you. Solomon nuzzled against your thigh and sucked at your skin softly before he turned his attention to his main course. Between dream Solomon’s sensual attack and Solomon’s cute gestures, you were already aroused.

Solomon moaned with his first taste of you. Gentle vibrations traveled up your body. The room was soon filled with the wet noises Solomon was making and his muffled moaning and whining. Even the feeling of Solomon’s hot breath was amazing. You couldn’t stop yourself from panting and moaning. His mouth was too good.

That hot mouth and skilled tongue was enough to bring you to the edge. Solomon had you twitching and trembling as he continued to swirl his tongue around you through your orgasm. You had to tug his hair and pull him back to avoid overstimulation.

Solomon licked his lips, ensuring every drop made it into his mouth before he swallowed. “You taste divine.”

You bent down and kissed him gently, feeling his slightly swollen lips against yours. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Not so scared of getting eaten anymore, are you?”

“No,” you admitted.

“Good,” Solomon grinned, lust still heavy in his eyes. “But, MC, can you help me now?”

“How so, sweetheart?”

“I want you to fuck me,” Solomon admitted, rubbing his thighs together. You could see that he was still hard. Your eyes softened, and you stroked his hair. Of course you’d fuck him, but Solomon interjected before you could agree. “But you must be a bit tired. So, maybe I could ride you, instead?”

“Can you stand up for me, sweetheart?” you asked him.

Solomon slowly got to his feet for you, and once he was steady, you helped him out of his pants and underwear. His cock nearly bounced up. He wished he could have hidden himself at least slightly.

You left Solomon standing there while you readied yourself for him (either by getting yourself hard again or by grabbing the dildo and strap harness from a box in Solomon’s bedside table). Solomon’s eyes never left you, eager to feel you inside of him. As you applied lube, Solomon’s eyes followed your hand’s slow strokes. He had been patient all night, but it was almost too much.

“Are you ready for me?” Solomon asked – a desperate plea to let him ride you.

You laid back in his bed and told him, “Go on.”

Solomon kneeled onto the bed and crawled over you. His hands were still tied behind his back as he lowered himself onto you slowly. A pretty whimper escaped his parted mouth. He was already unravelling by the time he took you all the way, but he wanted more. He needed it. You watched Solomon’s brows knit together and his eyes shut as he bounced on you. The sight was too sexy; you couldn’t leave all the fun to him.

When you bucked up into him, Solomon responded with sweet whining. His stomach flexed and his back arched. You took that as an invitation to slip your hands up his shirt and rub his chest, teasing his nipples. His moaning grew louder and more desperate. Solomon’s precum began to drip onto your stomach. Maybe you should thank Diavolo for ensuring that you had no neighbors or housemates to disturb.

“Keep fucking me,” Solomon moaned, “I’m so close.”

You obliged him. As you watched him inch closer to climaxing, you felt comfort in knowing that this man could never hurt you. It was too easy to reduce him to the slutty, moaning mess that he was now. Solomon came all over your stomach. His face was flushed as he stared down at you and the mess he made. You reached behind him to untie the silk scarf, which he then used to wipe you clean.

It was clear in the way that Solomon grinned – blissful and affectionate – that he had no intention of letting you go anytime soon. “You should sleep in my room more often.”

#anon #ask #requests #solomon #spice tier #gn!mc #obey me #obey me solomon #solomon x mc #solomon smut #obey me smut

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