#and also that said goddess is now in captivity

[fantasticbean]

The Nymph and the Sea I

Authors note: Okay so… this is my first fanfic for reals reals. Nothing in here is historically accurate, it is just based in greek mythology for funsies and Roman clearly gives off vibes of a powerful entity, so with that said don’t take any of this plot as genuine facts. I enjoyed writing it so I hope you enjoy reading it :) ALSO there will be smut but for now I’m just trying to develop the characters and the plot SO BEAR WITH ME.

Warnings: Minor Character death, animal death, blood, emotional abuse, toxic “mother” and daughter relationships. It is Ancient Greece people, there will be weird things going on. If I missed something let me know :p

Word count: 4,508 (got a little carried away hehe)

Pairing: Roman Reigns as Poseidon x Maleina (OC) Love Nymph

Chapter I. The Creation

Maleina, the tender-eyed nymph with the glowing purple gaze, was no ordinary creation. Crafted by the divine hands of Aphrodite, she was destined to carry the power of love, a living embodiment of the arrows shot by what mortals called Cupid. Her origins were as divine as her purpose, woven together one fateful night beneath the moonlit sky over Corinth. Aphrodite had long shared a passionate bond with Dionysus, the god of wine and revelry, and that evening, their union became the subject of much divine entertainment. The gods of Olympus, known for their indulgent voyeurism, watched eagerly as the pair gave themselves over to love and lust in a display that was meant to captivate them all.

Aphrodite, ever the showwoman, was determined to leave an indelible impression, to give her audience something worthy of their gaze. As she and Dionysus reveled in their moment, a new creation was born—a nymph whose beauty and power would echo through the heavens. The gods, enthralled by the spectacle, knew that Maleina would be no ordinary being.

Her form was an exquisite masterpiece. Apollo, the god of the sun and arts, nearly fell to his knees at the sight of her—so breathtaking was her beauty that he had a statue crafted in her likeness, one so flawless it would become the pinnacle of artistic reverence. Her hair, dark as the midnight sky, cascaded in soft waves, and her lips, full and beguiling, resembled the finest of Dionysus’s wine—sweet, intoxicating, and irresistible. Her skin shone with the glow of the full moon, luminous and ethereal, and her smile revealed teeth so perfect they could only have been sculpted by Poseidon himself, the god of the seas, whose skill in crafting beauty was unmatched. Even Hades, the god of the underworld, known for his usually impassive demeanor, sighed dreamily as she stepped into the room. Maleina’s presence was magnetic, her beauty transcendent, and the gods, one by one, acknowledged her as Aphrodite’s greatest creation.

And as if to crown her perfection, Artemis, the goddess of the hunt and protector of women, bestowed upon Maleina a final, unforgettable gift: a pair of violet eyes—eyes that held the power to awaken deep love and desire in those who gazed into them. The gods, from Zeus to Hecate, each saw something unique in her, something they had never witnessed before. Her eyes were not merely beautiful; they were a force of nature, a weapon of love itself.

It was the gods’ unanimous decision that Maleina would serve her creator’s will, tasked with wielding the power of Aphrodite’s arrows, binding mortals to the whims of love. But more than that, she would stand apart from the other nymphs, her allure unmatched, her powers unparalleled. Maleina was not just a messenger of love—she was its embodiment, the embodiment of divine passion and desire.

“You’re the embodiment of love and desire Dear,” Aphrodite said once Maleina was wrapped in soft silk gowns “With your gift you’ll grant us a future of many mortals to come and populate this earth but you should not indulge yourself with them.”

Those were the first words Maleina had ever heard: Bring love to others, but never to yourself. As the years passed, the weight of that command grew heavier. Maleina carried her quiver of arrows with grace, yet the burden they represented was one she felt deeply. Her existence was defined by bringing love and desire into the lives of mortals while denying herself the same. She could witness love in its purest, most fervent forms, but she was forbidden to partake, her duty bordering on punishment.

Maleina’s first encounter with love—true, unbidden love—was one she would never forget. It happened when she was tasked with a simple mission: to strike a mortal boy with her arrow, binding him to his childhood friend. She had seen him by the riverbank, his brown hair catching the golden light, his pearly blue eyes reflecting the water’s shimmer. He was a warrior, strong and proud, and wholly forbidden.

Curiosity rooted her in place as she watched him strip off his tunic, revealing a sun-kissed body carved by years of labor and training. Though she was a nymph, created from divine hands, she was still a creature of flesh and emotion. A warmth stirred deep within her, a sensation foreign and consuming. Her heart quickened, her body heated as if Hephaestus himself had stoked a flame within her very being.

Maleina hesitated. Her task was clear, her creator’s command absolute: bind him to another, and leave. But her hand faltered, the arrow never released. She fled, overwhelmed and terrified—not just by her feelings but by what Aphrodite’s wrath might bring. Love and chaos were two sides of her maker’s coin, and Maleina dared not challenge her. The consequences for disobedience were severe, and the goddess’s fury was a force even the gods themselves feared.

That night, Maleina returned to the temple in disarray. The image of the warrior haunted her thoughts, his laughter and form etched into her memory. She sat by the fountain, her feet submerged in the cool water, seeking solace in its stillness. Her sister Liv approached, her rosy cheeks tinged with cold and mischief.

“What’s spinning in that pretty head of yours?” Liv teased, her tone playful as always. Liv was unlike Maleina in every way—a vibrant soul full of theatrics and charm, the life of every gathering. She was a favorite at Apollo’s feasts and often found herself entwined in the schemes of Hermes’s sons. Yet, her teasing was tempered by an innate loyalty to her sister.

Maleina hesitated but finally spoke, her voice soft and uncertain. “Something… strange happened to me.” She leaned her head to the side, her gaze fixed on the rippling water. “I think I got too confident in my abilities.”

Liv raised a brow, her grin mischievous. “You mean you fucked someone?”

“No, you moron!” Maleina hissed, kicking water at her sister, her face flushing with embarrassment. “But it crossed my mind.”

Liv laughed, throwing her head back before leaning closer, her expression both amused and serious. “Well, I’ll be damned. The one who can’t fall in love… fell in love.”

Maleina shot her a sharp glare, placing a finger to her lips. “Liv! Someone might hear you.”

“Fine,” Liv said, lowering her voice but frowning deeply. “But did you…?” she asked again, her meaning clear, sex.

Maleina shook her head. The feeling had consumed her, burned through her in a way she had never experienced. And yet, she had resisted. It felt unfair—no, cruel—to be made a vessel of love and desire yet denied the ability to feel it freely.

Liv’s smile faltered as she studied her sister’s conflicted face. Maleina’s thoughts were a storm of lust, shame, and longing, a war between duty and the desires she had been forbidden to explore.

How unfair, she thought bitterly, to give love to others and never receive it for herself.

“I’ll be fine,” Maleina convinced herself “It won’t happen again. First thing tomorrow I will be done with it.”

“You know,” Liv said with a mischievous smirk, her tone dripping with devilish charm, “the instructions are to never fall in love. It doesn’t say entanglement is prohibited.”

Maleina rolled her eyes, the burden of her overthinking clashing with Liv’s careless temptations. “That’s not how it works, Liv,” she replied, though her voice lacked conviction. Her sister’s words lingered in her mind longer than she’d care to admit.

The next morning, Maleina found herself once again at the riverbank, her target in sight. The warrior stood near the water’s edge, cleaning his sword with quiet precision. His soaked tunic clung to his body, every muscle defined by the morning light. Maleina’s fingers tightened on the golden string of her bow, ready to complete her task.

But then, the rustling of leaves drew her attention. Her sharp eyes caught the movement first—a lion, stalking through the brush, its hungry gaze fixed on the man. The predator crept closer, its intent clear. Maleina’s breath hitched. She saw the warrior turn, his body shifting into a defensive stance. He was prepared, but what could a mortal do against an apex predator in its domain? It wasn’t a fair fight.

Her body moved before her mind could catch up. The arrow meant for the man flew through the air, striking the lion directly in the eye. The beast roared in pain and collapsed, its death immediate.

The warrior stood frozen, his sword lowered as he stared at the lifeless lion. Confusion clouded his features, and his sharp blue eyes scanned the surrounding trees. “Who’s there?” he called, his voice steady but wary. “Show yourself.”

Maleina’s heart raced. She hadn’t planned for this. She could have vanished, dissolved back into the safety of the trees, but something held her there. Taking a steadying breath, she stepped out of the shadows.

Her silk gown shimmered as if woven from moonlight, its deep purple hue mirroring the color of her eyes. Golden cuffs adorned her wrists, catching the sunlight, and her presence radiated an ethereal glow. The warrior’s jaw dropped as he took her in.

Surely, he thought, she was no mere woman. The way her beauty defied mortal comprehension, the way her very being seemed to command the air around her—he was convinced he stood before the goddess of beauty herself.

“Who are you?” he whispered, his voice soft, reverent, as if afraid to shatter the illusion.

Maleina’s lips parted, but she hesitated. Her mind raced with excuses, with answers, but none seemed to suffice. Instead, she simply stood there, her amethyst gaze meeting his.

“My name’s Maleina,” she said, her voice soft and low, like the whisper of a breeze through the trees. The sound ignited a flicker of something unnameable in Marcus’s chest, a heat that spread like wildfire.

“Marcus,” he replied, still unable to tear his gaze from her. It was as if his very soul feared she might vanish if he blinked. “Thank you, for, you know…” He motioned awkwardly toward the lifeless lion, the predator that had moments ago been his death sentence.

“You’re welcome,” Maleina replied, her tone measured and distant, uncertain of what else to say. Her gaze lingered for a beat longer than necessary before she turned, her movements graceful yet hurried. “Well, see you around,” she added, her words rushed as though she needed to escape.

“Hey! Wait!” Marcus’s voice rang out, desperation thick in his tone. He couldn’t let her leave—not yet, not so soon. His feet carried him forward instinctively, heart hammering in his chest as he tried to hold on to the moment.

Maleina stopped but didn’t turn immediately. Her shoulders stiffened as the weight of her actions replayed in her mind. She had already gone too far, broken unspoken rules she had followed since her creation. This was bad, worse than she’d anticipated. She needed to leave and never look back.

Still, she turned, her face unreadable, though her violet eyes betrayed the storm of emotions swirling within.

“A-Are you from around here?” Marcus asked, his voice unsteady yet earnest. For the first time in his life, he felt like a boy again—nervous, uncertain, with his heart thundering in his chest.

Maleina hesitated. She could feel the pull, the dangerous thread tying her to this moment. “No,” she finally said, the word clipped but soft. Her mind screamed at her to disappear, to let the forest swallow her whole before things spiraled further out of control.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she let herself linger just a moment longer, watching Marcus as he stood there, looking at her as if she were the most extraordinary thing he had ever seen. And perhaps, in that fleeting moment, she allowed herself to feel extraordinary, too.

And so, the man Maleina once observed from behind the trees became her secret companion—a bond forged in stolen moments and hidden from the eyes of gods and mortals alike. Marcus, the warrior with a chiseled body and a heart softer than he’d admit, became her solace. He was a man of gentle humor and fierce loyalty, his strength honed not for glory but for survival. Every coin he earned went to care for his mother and younger sister, who lived by the coast of Argos.

Through him, Maleina came to know pieces of his world. She learned of Aria, the woman who had once been his promised wife, whose destiny Maleina had quietly shifted with her bow. Instead of binding Marcus and Aria together, the nymph had paired her with an older artisan from the village, a match that had blossomed into a quiet, happy life. Yet, the knowledge weighed heavy on Maleina’s shoulders. She had altered Marcus’s path, stolen his future in the name of her own selfish desires.

Still, guilt melted away each time they met by the small temple near the riverbank—their hidden haven. It was a place untouched by time, where the only witnesses to their stolen moments were the whispering trees and the murmuring water.

Marcus never questioned her origins. He didn’t need to. To him, she was Maleina, the mysterious daughter of a wealthy merchant, a woman of ethereal beauty and elusive grace who allowed him to share her time. She never corrected his assumptions. It was safer that way—for both of them.

But as the months passed, and their connection deepened, Maleina found herself tethered to him in a way that frightened her. Each smile, each lingering touch, each stolen glance was a defiance of her purpose, a rebellion against the rules set by her maker. She knew Aphrodite’s wrath was as swift as it was merciless.

Yet, she couldn’t stop.

In Marcus’s company, Maleina felt something she had never known—a sense of belonging, a warmth that seeped into her very being. He looked at her not as a creation of divine perfection, but as a woman. And for the first time, she allowed herself to believe she was one.

Everything crumbled like a fragile sandcastle swept by a tidal wave. Nia, daughter of Thalassa and one of Poseidon’s loyal creations, had stumbled upon a tragedy at sea—a sight so harrowing it sent ripples of fury through the realms. Aria, a devoted wife and mother, lay lifeless along with her children, their bodies adrift on the salt-laden waves. The crime was heinous, committed by none other than Aria’s husband, whose heart Maleina’s arrow had forcefully turned. A bond meant to bloom with love had ended in bloodshed, a perversion of destiny itself.

This unnatural tragedy ignited chaos in the underworld, shaking its dark foundations and compelling Hades himself to rise from his shadowed throne. His demands for answers echoed through Olympus until they reached Poseidon’s halls. The Sea God, his rage like a brewing storm, dispatched Nia to uncover the source of this upheaval. Her investigation led her to a secluded riverbank where she found the culprit: Maleina, cradled in the arms of Marcus, her forbidden mortal lover.

It was in that moment that the truth struck Maleina with unbearable clarity. This tragedy was her doing, her defiance of her sacred duty unraveling the delicate threads of fate. The illusion she had so recklessly spun was now collapsing around her, its remnants sharp enough to wound not just her heart, but the very order of the divine.

The wrath of Aphrodite was swift and merciless. Her arrival was a storm of beauty and fury, her golden form shimmering with a light so intense it demanded reverence and fear. Her voice, a venomous blend of rage and disappointment, cut through Maleina’s trembling defenses.

“Can’t you see what you’ve done?” Aphrodite’s words dripped with accusation, her gaze like a dagger aimed at the nymph’s soul. “You’ve disrupted nature’s sacred order. And in Poseidon’s domain, of all places.”

Maleina stood frozen, the weight of her actions crushing her spirit. Her voice, when it came, was small and broken. “I just wanted to know what it feels like…”

Aphrodite’s eyes narrowed, her divine temper teetering on the edge of a violent eruption. She stepped closer, her presence a suffocating reminder of Maleina’s failure. “To feel what, Maleina?”

The nymph’s violet eyes shimmered with unshed tears. Her answer was a whisper, fragile yet heavy with the longing that had driven her to defy the gods. “Love.”

The single word hung in the air, a confession that burned through the tension like a stray ember on dry parchment. Maleina’s heart shattered further as she realized that, in her quest to feel love, she had sown only destruction. The silence that followed was unbearable, filled with the unspoken weight of her punishment yet to come.

Aphrodite turned her back on Maleina, her movements elegant yet unnervingly cold as she walked to her gilded throne. The air in the chamber shifted, heavy and foreboding, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath. With a simple snap of her fingers, two guards entered the room, dragging a limp and bloodied figure between them.

Maleina's heart dropped, her knees buckling as she recognized him.

"Marcus!" she cried, rushing forward, only to be stopped mid-step by an invisible force. Aphrodite's power pinned her in place, her outstretched hands trembling as she watched the guards drop Marcus to the floor. His body crumpled, legs dragging uselessly, his face battered and bruised beyond recognition. Blood trailed from his lips, his once-bright blue eyes barely open.

"No, no, no, please!" Maleina begged, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Don't hurt him! This isn't his fault!"

Aphrodite turned slowly, her expression devoid of sympathy. "Do you think the gods care about fault, child?" Her voice was sharp, laced with venom. "This was not my choice, but the balance must be restored. I follow orders as you should have."

Maleina fought against the unseen force, desperate to reach Marcus. "I'll fix it! I'll do anything! Please, just let him go!"

Aphrodite's gaze hardened. "You already had your chance. You chose defiance, and now you will learn the cost of disobedience."

At her signal, the guard nearest to Marcus unsheathed a blade, its edge glinting cruelly in the dim light. Maleina's screams pierced the chamber as she fought with every ounce of her strength, but she couldn't move.

"No! Stop!" she cried, her voice breaking. "Please, I love him!"

The words hung in the air like a fragile confession, but they did nothing to soften the goddess's resolve. The blade descended, sinking into Marcus's chest with brutal finality.

The sound of steel meeting flesh seemed to echo endlessly. Maleina's body froze, her mind unable to comprehend the sight of Marcus's blood spilling onto the floor, pooling beneath him. Time slowed as the guard stepped back, leaving the mortal slumped over, his life draining away.

With a snap, Aphrodite released her hold, and Maleina collapsed to the floor beside Marcus. She gathered his broken body in her arms, cradling him as though her touch could keep him tethered to the world.

"Marcus," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Stay with me, please. Don't leave me."

His eyes fluttered open briefly, the light in them dim but still holding her gaze.

"Maleina..." he rasped, his voice barely audible. "I would... do it all again... for you."

Her tears fell freely, mixing with the blood staining his chest. "I'm sorry," she choked out, pressing her forehead to his. "I'm so sorry."

A faint smile tugged at his lips, and then he was gone. His body stilled, the warmth fading from his skin. Maleina clung to him, her sobs racking her body as her world shattered around her.

Aphrodite watched in silence, her expression as cold and unyielding as marble.

When she spoke, her words cut like a blade. "This is the price of your selfishness. Love is not yours to claim, Maleina. It is yours to give, nothing more."

Maleina's grip on Marcus's lifeless form tightened as Aphrodite motioned for the guards. They seized the nymph, pulling her away despite her cries and thrashing.

Her lover's blood stained her hands and gown, a haunting reminder of what she had lost.

The once vibrant and flourishing world of Corinth slowly decayed, the land withered beneath the weight of Maleina’s sorrow. The nymph, the embodiment of love, now imprisoned in her temple by Aphrodite, could no longer summon the power that once made hearts dance with desire. Her soul mourned the loss of Marcus, the mortal whose love she had so fiercely longed to taste, but now, that love was nothing but ashes in the wind.

Years passed in her isolation, a never-ending cycle of grief and longing. The temple walls, once radiant with the energy of her presence, now stood dark and cold, mirroring the void inside her heart. The nymph could no longer perform the duties she was created for, her once-bright purple eyes dull with the weight of despair. Aphrodite, though unforgiving, had left her with one instruction: to heal.

But how could a nymph of love heal when love had been taken from her so cruelly?

Meanwhile, on the shores of Corinth, the consequences of her actions were felt by mortals and gods alike. Without Maleina’s arrows to ignite the fires of passion, the world fell into chaos. Wars erupted over power, hearts grew cold, and the once harmonious relationships between gods and mortals began to fray. Even Poseidon, ruler of the seas, felt the shift—a disturbance in the natural order of things. His domain, once teeming with life and love, now felt eerily empty.

The land that once thrived on the affection and desires of its people now stood as a barren wasteland, much like Maleina’s heart—silent, aching, and devoid of the very essence that kept it alive.

Aphrodite watched from her celestial throne, a quiet anger brewing within her. She had created Maleina to be the ultimate agent of love, but the nymph had betrayed that creation by indulging in emotions she was not meant to experience. Yet, the goddess of love knew that even the gods were not immune to the consequences of love—destruction and creation alike.

The goddess of love and war leaned back in her golden throne, her expression unreadable, as the towering figure of Poseidon entered the temple. His presence was commanding, the air thickening around him as though the very sea followed in his wake. His long, dark hair cascaded like a storm, and his eyes—deep, cold, and endless as the ocean—locked onto hers without hesitation.

The goddess of love had never been one to be shaken, yet she could feel the weight of his arrival, the immense power he exuded.

“Roman,” she said, her voice cool, though the surprise in it was undeniable. “What brings you here?”

Poseidon’s gaze remained impassive, his tone as harsh as a crashing wave. “A proposition,” he said, his deep voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

Aphrodite’s brow arched. “A proposition?” She tilted her head slightly, studying him. Poseidon was a god of the sea, not one to venture far from his domain, and certainly not to the temple of love. His motives were always shrouded in mystery. But today, there was no mirth or intrigue in his eyes, only cold purpose.

He took a single step forward, his tall, broad form filling the space. “The world is drowning in chaos, Aphrodite. The mortal realm is devoid of balance. And your precious creation—Maleina—has strayed too far. Her weakness has infected the world.”

Aphrodite’s eyes narrowed, though she kept her composure. “You speak as if you know what love is. What do you understand of it, Poseidon?”

Poseidon’s eyes flickered with a glint of something fierce—something dangerous, like the deep sea itself. “Love is a force of nature, like the tides. It cannot be controlled, only guided. You have let it run wild, and now the storm you’ve created threatens everything.”

Aphrodite’s lips curled into a thin smile, though there was no amusement in it. “So you’ve come to fix it? Do you think you can restore what I have built?” Her gaze flickered to Maleina’s shadowed figure in the distance, a silent reminder of the chaos that had ensued.

Poseidon’s voice grew colder, his eyes unwavering. “I don’t intend to restore what you’ve built. I intend to erase it. Maleina must return to her original purpose—no more distractions, no more false desires. She will remember who she is. Her love must not be wasted.”

Aphrodite’s breath caught, but she did not flinch. “And what makes you think you can accomplish this?”

“I will take her to my domain,” Poseidon said, his voice devoid of warmth. “I will cleanse her of your influence, restore balance, and let the tides of love once again flood the world. In return, I ask for one thing: permission to wield your power where it has been lost, to guide the broken hearts of mortals back to their true course.”

Aphrodite considered his words, her heart betraying her only for a moment. Poseidon was not here for power or gain; he was here to set things right, in his own ruthless way. He was a god of the sea, and he understood the balance of nature as no one else could.

“Very well,” she said, her voice as cold as the marble beneath her. “But know this, Poseidon: Maleina is no ordinary nymph. She was made for love, but love can break as easily as it can heal. You may find her more dangerous than you realize.”

Poseidon did not flinch. “I am not afraid of what I must do,” he said, his voice firm, unwavering. “You created her to guide love, Aphrodite. I will make her remember her true purpose, even if it means destroying the illusions she clings to.”

Aphrodite’s eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, her thoughts swirling. She had never seen Poseidon so determined, so utterly cold in his conviction. But in that moment, she realized that he was the only one who could undo the mess she had created.

“Go then,” Aphrodite said, her tone final. “But if you fail, it will be on your head.”

Poseidon’s lips barely twitched in acknowledgment, “I do not fail,” he said, turning away from her, his form already shifting toward the exit.

“Prepare yourself, Aphrodite. The tides are changing.”

And with that, the god of the sea left the temple, his presence like a distant thunderstorm on the horizon. Poseidon was not a god who dealt in mercy or second chances, but perhaps, just perhaps, he was the only one who could right the wrongs of the love she had forged.

As the doors closed behind him, Aphrodite’s gaze turned to where Maleina's last moments were—still broken, still lost in the chaos she had created—and she wondered what would become of the nymph now that Poseidon had entered the picture.

[mykoreanlove]

channie's way of helping you relax

“Sweetheart, can you come here for a minute?”

Chan was sitting on the living room’s floor with his back leaned against the black leather couch. His hands motioned you to come sit in between his legs, fully positioned in the safety of his embrace. You felt his strong arms wrap around you and leaned back against his broad chest. A warm feeling overcame you, like finally sensing the first rays of sunshine after a gruesome winter.

“I want you to close your eyes”, he said gently. You did as he told but only for a second as your curiosity got the best of you. He instantly noticed and scolded you for your behavior.

“Ah ah, bad girl. Close your eyes, baby girl. Be good for me.”

This time you obeyed – with eyes closed you leaned even deeper into his body.

“Good girl. I want you to take some deep breaths for me, okay? Deep breath in through your nose and deep breath out of your mouth.”

You felt his chest rising as he demonstrated the breathing and joined him, getting calmer and calmer by his side.

“In and out”, he calmly orchestrated.

“Can you feel yourself relax some more, baby?”

A sweet smile formed on your lips, deeply touched by his care for you.

“Now breathe normally and just listen to my words, okay?”

Your breathing stabilized and you felt peaceful, like a wave of calmness had washed over you, taking away all the stressors of daily life. You surrendered to the moment and only focused on Chan, simply listening to his deep and raspy voice like he wanted you to.

“I am so in love with you, y/n”, he declared softly.

“Like, crazy in love with you, baby.”

“Do you even realize that? Do you even realize what you’re doing to me?”

“I’ve never met someone like you. Someone so beautiful and captivating, so smart and charming. I feel like I am dating my best friend. My goddess. My soulmate…”

“You make me a better person, baby. Thank you for that.”

“Thank you for always staying by my side and forcing me to sleep and eat and relax.” A small giggle escaped your lips.

“I wanna take care of you forever. I wanna make sure you’re safe and that you take your vitamins and get a bite to eat. I wanna make sure you’re hydrated and in good spirits.”

“I wanna make you feel loved, y/n.”

“Every. Single. Day.”

“I love you, y/n. Like so fucking much.”

“Our love is special, don’t you think? It’s not only sexy and passionate but also nurturing.”

“I won’t ever let go of you."

“In fact, I’m going to marry you some day.”

“I’m going to take this delicate hand of yours and put a ring on it. Not just a simple ring, no, the most beautiful and shiniest diamond I can find. One that’s so special that your friends’ jaws will drop at brunch. That kind of ring.”

“Because that’s what you deserve, baby.”

“You deserve to be taken care of. And spoiled. All the riches in the world belong to you as long as you’re with me, sweetie.”

“Will you stay with me?”

“Will you make me the happiest man on the planet?”

“Say yes, baby.”

“Please, say yes.”

“Please?”

[vlansy]

Run Away Baby Before I Put My Spell On You

Pairings: WandaNat! x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Wanda is set on a mission to find out who the "new" super hero in town is.

Warning(s): Violence, Voyeurism, murder, use of gun, swearing- (MINORS DNI 18+ )

CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2

Reader's POV

Growing up I have always wondered what I was made for, my mother said she prayed to have me and the deities gave me to her. She said I was special and she was the most blessed woman to have me. I was blessed by every God, giving me gifts and power.

But I still wonder what my purpose is.

I mean don't get me wrong having been given powers to move things with my mind, and control anyone if I wished to is an honor I will forever be thankful for, but sometimes I feel like I’m cursed to have them. I still have morals though, I ask for permission first before I enter someone's mind but even without asking I could still do it. Levitating and creating illusions is also one of the many powers given to me by the Gods. The Goddess of beauty and love herself even bestowed me with the power to charm and captivate anyone I wish to kneel for me.

When I was given to my mother they all expected me to be the one to stop the war and create peace among everyone.

I was sent to the mortal realm at a young age by my mother, she wanted me to live there with her immortal friend whom she said she’d known for a long time. I don't know what her reason is and why she wanted me to leave her but I know better than to question the queen.

I visit sometimes though, I mean what's a castle without its princess?

And what's a mother without her daughter….

My thoughts were interrupted by a sudden knock on the door.

“Y/n, are you awake?” A soft masculine voice said.

I was lying on my bed my feet dangling on the edge. I raise my hand opening the door without getting up.

I hear my Uncle Malcolm's footsteps coming closer my eyes remain closed.

“Is it just me or does the “woman in white” look familiar?” He said emphasizing the “woman in white”.

I opened my eyes and turned my head to him. I looked at him and raised my brow. “I see you’ve seen the news.”

“Y/n, I know you have a mind of your own and you’re a bright girl, but honey please be careful out there.” He said as he sat on the edge of my bed.

I’ve lived with my “uncle” Malcolm here on earth since my mother decided it would be a good idea for me to leave. He’d known my mother when he was in high school and my mother was a curious princess who wanted to see the whole universe.

His only family is me now and his fiancé Luthor.

They’re both very much in love and I would love nothing more than to officially welcome Luthor to our family. They both treat me as if I were their real daughter and I love them both like their my real Dad’s

It’s ironic really, before I got sent to earth I’ve only ever had women around me, since where I came from women are the ones to rule and provide for their offspring. No men exist where I came from they’re practically extinct.

I look at my uncle. “I promise I won’t get hurt, Dad,” I assure him. “And would you really think I’d let anyone catch me?”

“I know you wouldn’t let that happen but I know you too well to know that if the Avengers were the ones after you, you would let them.” He said knowingly.

“I- okay I probably will, but come on Dad if the Avengers were to want me I’d be honored to be caught by them.” I laughed at him.

It's an understatement to say that I'm a huge fan of the heroes that protect the world. But I would never admit that to anyone but my Dad’s.

They know how much I admire them, especially the two wonderful redheads I have a tiny bit of a crush on.

So when I thought of the idea that the Avengers might be on to me I had mixed feelings about it. I don't know whether to be excited that they know of me but also a bit scared because they know of me.

“And besides, whatever happens, happens. I'm a powerful being but I can't control what will happen, Dad.” I finally sat down on my bed.

He just sighed at me, knowing how stubborn I am he probably thought not to argue with me further.

“Where's Papa, by the way?” I changed the topic.

“He's still in his office, you know your Papa he's very hard working.” He said proudly. I just nodded.

My Papa is a well-known lawyer and my Dad is a popular Fashion designer. When I was younger I started to model the clothes he designed which gained me popularity all throughout high school and college.

I graduated college at 18 due to my high credentials and skipping a few grades. I honestly don't know what to do since I don't go to school anymore, I'm 19 now and turning 20 in a few months but all I want to do is keep my position in the modeling industry.

People say I'm too smart to just throw it all away but I don't really care what they think, plus My dad’s supports me with everything I do and whatever I choose to be.

I live by myself most of the time, I bought myself a house, but I miss my Dad’s too much so come over at weekends.

“I'll leave you to rest now sweetheart, goodnight,” he said as he kissed my head.

“Goodnight, Dad.” I smiled at him as I watched him walk out the door.

A few minutes passed and I was tucking myself to bed when my phone rang.

“Yes, Shaye?” I said when I answered the call.

“Y/n! Girl let's go out tonight!” She screamed right in my ear making me move the phone away.

I look at the time, “Babe it's literally midnight?”

“Yeah so? Come on honey the other girls are coming too,” she reasoned.

I thought for a second, what could go wrong? Right?

“Fine, give me like 30 minutes.” I finally agreed.

“Yay! Okay hurry up and I'll call you when I'm there, Byee!” She said cheerfully.

“Bye.” I said and quickly went to my walk-in closet and chose an outfit.

Once I found a white crisscross halter top and some denim jeans I went to my mirror and got changed. Then I went out of my closet and to my vanity. I started putting on a little bit of makeup and took the claw clip that was on my hair to let down my soft curly hair.

I got my purse and made sure my important belongings were in there and went to my Dad’s room.

I knocked on their door and waited for it to open.

“Yes, sweetheart?” my Dad said as he opened the door.

“I'm going out with Shaye and my friends.”

“Okay, be careful alright,” He reminded me.

“Yes, Dad bye,” I said and smiled back at him.

I was going down the stairs when Shaye called. “We’re here.” she is said.

“Yeah, I'll be right down,” I said and ended the call.

When I got out the door I was greeted by my friends squealing. I opened the shotgun seat and Shaye started driving.

“Oh my God Y/n we’re gonna have so much fun tonight!” My friend Leven said in excitement.

The car ride was pretty much us singing to loud music and taking photos.

When we arrived at the bar the guard didn't even need to check our IDs or make us stay in line because we go to parties here almost every weekend.

Some of our close friends were already waiting for us in the VIP section of the bar with drinks ready.

“Y/n babe, You made it!” A familiar feminine voice catches my attention.

“I probably wouldn’t have come if I knew you were here.” I joked at her.

Vienna was my ex when we were in college but we were more best friends than girlfriends so we ended up on good terms. But even when we broke up we would still playfully flirt with each other, but we both have zero romantic feelings for one another.

“Oh don’t act like you don't miss me, honey,” she winked at me.

I playfully rolled my eyes at her.

We partied all night and drank so much alcohol that my friends could barely walk anymore.

“Oh my God, do you guys remember when we all got in trouble because we couldn't stop laughing at Mr. Wilkins when we caught him picking his nose.” Leven reminded us.

“HAHAHA, or when he tried to flirt with Shaye in front of the class but Shaye said she also likes girls?.” I said and they all laughed, especially Shaye who almost choked on her drink.

As we caught up with each other's lives and reminisced about the times we had together I excused myself to go to the bathroom.

As I walked to the exit of the bar I could already feel the danger come my way.

I excused myself to my friends earlier because I saw a woman being followed and harassed by two men. I watched her for a while and when she was going to the exit I knew I had to follow.

As I looked around the exit I saw the two men following the girl out so I quickly but carefully followed them.

One of them ran up behind her and covered her mouth so she couldn't scream the other guy went to a nearby van and opened its back seat.

I walked towards them and spoke. “Watcha doing there big boys?”

They turned towards me. “You wanna join in doll?” The guy holding the girl said and smirked. I smirked back at him and walked closer to them, my heels clicking as I walked. The other man from the van now went closer to us.

“You know, two big guys like you shouldn't be out here at night,” I said as I got close to them the girl still trying to get out of the other man's grip.

He looked at his buddy and they both grinned. “Yeah, and why is that?” He asked a menacing smile plastered across his face.

“Because you might come across women like me,” I said as my eyes glowed golden.

Their smile slowly went away while mine grew wider.

I raise my hand in front of them making them both paralyzed.

I use my other hand to move the girl with my powers, freeing her from the guy's grasp. The girl stumbled in front of me so I held her close.

“Are you okay?” I asked with a look of concern.

“Y-yes, thank you,” she said as tears ran down her eyes.

“Go, and please don't tell anyone I was here,” I pleaded. “I'll take care of these boys for you,” I said as I turned back to the men giving them a sharp glare.

I heard the girl run but my attention was caught by the two men in front of me grunting and trying to move.

“It really isn't fun being helpless huh?” I asked with a fake pout.

“Oh! How about we play a game? Would you like that?” I asked then laughed. “Oh I forgot you can't speak, let me fix that for you,” I said and waved my hand in the air giving them the ability to talk.

“You little bitch!” one of them screamed at me.

I gasp. “You guys aren't very nice.”

“Let us go you fucker!” the other guy commanded.

“How about this, I'll give you five seconds to run and then I'll run after you, and if I catch you… I'll kill you.” I said as my smile dropped.

“1…2…3 GO!” I scream as I free them. They ran as fast as they could not wasting and second.

I just waited there and looked at my watch and when it was time to run after them I used my powers to make me fly making my current clothes disappear and turn to my white armor and covering myself with a white cloak.

As I was in the air I could already see the both of them run to a nearby alley. I fly with speed and when my feet touch the ground I start to play with them.

I surrounded them with clones of myself circling them so they had nowhere to go. “You have nowhere to run boys.”

One of them took a gun out of his pocket and the other one a knife. They started attacking the clones of me but every attack just went through my clones while they laughed at the men's pathetic tries.

When I finally got tired of watching them struggle I made one of them float in the air making him drop his weapon the other guy tried to attack me but I paralyzed him into place.

I entered the mind of the guy I held in the air and bent him to my will.

“θα τον σκοτώσεις και τον εαυτό σου (kill him and yourself)” I whispered in his mind and as I did his eyes glowed golden and his face expressionless.

I both let them go and watched as the man I whispered to attacked the other guy.

“Stop! What are you doing man!” the man grunted as they fought each other.

I was gonna watch them kill each other when I felt something in my chest and I felt my power in my veins. My veins are visibly glowing golden.

“What's happening to me?” I question myself as I look at my arms.

I quickly flew out of the alley not caring if anyone sees me.

But as I was in the air something shot the side of my stomach from a distance making me lose control and fall onto a rooftop of a building.

My stomach was bleeding and I tried to cover it up with my hand. When I gained composure and tried to stand up I saw a red entity fly towards me and as I turned my head the other way I saw a black-suited figure jump from building to building going after me.

“Shit!” I cussed out figuring out who they are.

It's the Scarlet Witch and the Black Widow.

I try to fly out of there but suddenly scarlet threads wrap themselves around me making it hard to move.

I breathed in and out catching my breath as I was about to use all my strength to break free from the witch’s spell.

At this point, my whole body was glowing and I could feel the witch’s spell slowly breaking and when I broke free a powerful force blew them both away making the widow hit her head on the cement and the witch fell on the ground.

“Wanda!” I heard the widow scream.

I wanted to help them and apologize but it was too much of a risk so I gathered all the strength left in me and flew as fast as I could out of there.

(Please tell me how I did in this chapter and if there are any errors.) Thank you all so much for the support!!😘

[natsmindx]

⋆.˚⋆✮⋆.˚ Desired Love

Dream x F! Reader Oneshot

Dream x Harmonia (reader), daughter of Aphrodite and Ares

Song inspo: Astronomy by Conan Gray

Warnings: Melancholy, angsty, oddly romantic?

A/Note: This is my first ever blog/written work published ever! I miss Morpheus and there’s hardly any work published for him so I got to work…hope you all enjoy!

PSA: this is not perfect :)

“Here face to face. Stranger that I once knew…”

Backstory: You and Morpheus had known each other for years, centuries actually. You always had a soft spot for Dream of the Endless. But did he have a soft spot for you? As a daughter of gods you knew your position. When you heard of Morpheus and Calliope’s marriage you were forced to back away until you were out of Dreams life entirely. Even when he was suffering his sons death, his wife abandoning him, a failed relationship with a mortal, and when he was captured by said mortals. You hadn’t seen him in centuries, until one day.

You were sitting on your throne, reading a mortals plead for harmony within their family’s house ownership. You had plenty of those, they always made you chuckle. Silly mortals and their fights over an object. Apart from those pleads, you also received pleads from the wars, those praying were being heard and you had that as your priority. Meeting with your brother Deimos and your father Ares, trying to get them to stop these affairs and let you do your work without causing more harm.

As you were reading you were suddenly interrupted by footsteps approaching your throne chair.

…

“I am quite busy” I said still focused on the book.

“To see me?” A low, raspy like tone spoke out loud

I froze completely, not daring to look up from my book. I stared at the page, eyes widened, not daring to glare at whose voice that belonged to.

Dream…Morpheus

I began to gain sensation again, frantically looking around the page I left on. I began to slowly look up from my book.

There he was. Tall, lean, messy haired, in all black. Morpheus, the Dream Lord, the King of Nightmares.

“Morpheus” you whispered still in shock, I couldn’t believe my eyes or ears. Perhaps I myself was dreaming. Yes, I had to be dreaming. I’ve wanted this for so long.

“Harmony” he said out loud in his dreamy voice that could easily induce me to sleep if I gave it the power to.

His eyes pleading for something, to say something. He always had that about him, he never used his voice much but his eyes. Always glazed with tears that I didn’t know if they were sad or happy. But that’s the thing, I had never seen Dream cry. Ever. The last time we saw each other was over 300 years ago, after I found out he was bound to marry my cousin Calliope, his now ex wife.

“Is everything okay?” I spoke gently, slowly getting up from my throne to meet him face to face.

“I…I” he chocked on his own words.

“Onerous” you said softly while looking into his eyes

“I am sorry” he slowly said. His eyes getting redder by the second.

You were now perplexed by emotions you didn’t know you still had. Romantic ones but also anger.

“Sorry?” You said both in question and in a sarcastic manner

“I was captured. 200 years” he started

“A long time to go over almost my entire existence”

“I am sorry for breaking your heart, abandoning, and humiliating you Harmonia.”

“I am sorry.”

“For all of it.”

I just stared at him, with now red teary eyes.

I hated remembering that day when everything went down, when my parents threatened to ban me from Olympus. To destroy my own realm. I loved Morpheus but within all these years I had found peace with had happened, or so I thought because after all I am the goddess of harmony, why not give myself grace as I do to mortals?

“It’s been years Morpheus.” I say sternly clenching my fists tightly that my nails dug into my palm.

“I am sorry mortals had the audacity to hold you captive. I tried reaching out to your siblings. Death and even Destiny but they didn’t want to interfere. After all, I am not your wife Morpheus nor a close friend” I said in a reminding manner while walking away from my throne onto the door to leave. Until he spoke again.

“Calliope and I are not together.” He said quickly. I could feel his despair.

“I know” I said relaxed. Not amused.

I found out about everything. His dead son, his wife leaving him but I didn’t reach out.

I wasn’t allowed to.

His face changed, one from softness to almost anger. Almost as stating how dare I know about what happened and not have comforted him. Not given him, a king, a lord, harmony; but grief comes before any comfort is given. There needs to be acceptance. There needs to be something for harmony to flourish in. He hadn’t allowed for any of it to sink in. Not until now.

“I am sorry for your losses Morpheus. I truly am but it is not my priority to comfort you, not when you took with a grain of salt what we had.” I said bitter. Not like me. Standing still.

“I wasn’t allowed to either way.” you said now angry, wiping a tear away

“Allowed to? Your’re a goddess.” He stated, almost with a hint of sarcasm behind it.

I chuckled.

“A goddess?” I questioned with a light laugh.

“A goddess whose parents threatened to kick her out of Olympus and destroy her realm if she interfered with your wedding and your married life.” I said while pointing angrily at Morpheus.

Dreams facial expressions completely changed. From anger to confusion and sadness.

“What” he said hurt

I stared at him, looking at his eyes with an almost pleading look.

He walked closer to me, mere inches away from my face

“I had to keep my distance Dream. For your sake, for my realms, for humanity.” I said now whispering as his hand reached to cup my cheek gently. I sunk into his palm. A tear running down my face.

Losing harmony would cause havoc on earth. It was too much of a risk.

Morpheus stared into my eyes, cautious of every move.

“Have you said the words, I would have not married her. Have you said the words I would have stayed with you.” He said now with a tear running down his cheek. I wiped it gently away with my thumb.

He’s so pretty.

He was now nearly 2 inches away from me, too close. I keep looking up at him and then looking down.

My skin now goosebumps as I felt Dreams breath against my skin, against my neck.

“You're pointing at stars in the sky that already died.”

“I loved you Morpheus.” I whispered into his ear. Tears silently fell down my cheeks.

“And I hate that after all this I still do.” I ended.

His eyes met mine and they were more red than ever, with streams of tears slowly starting to fall.

Dream had his own faults, his own feelings towards love. He was never lucky in it. A failed marriage and situations where the one he loved never wanted to marry him. Dream still loved Harmonia throughout everything. Yes, maybe a little less when he was married to Calliope but she was still in the back of his head throughout everything.

“Do you think it was easy for me? To forget you and what we had?” He questions you offended.

You think for a second.

“I don’t know Dream. I am pretty sure you were busy.” I said as cold as I could whilst backing away from him.

You weren’t harsh, and you barely got into arguments but you felt a certain way about this situation and anger was one of them. Maybe your father Ares was manipulating this situation, making you angry. He is your father after all and there is a part of him in you whether you liked it or not.

“What are you implying.” He now said hurt.

“Your realm is your first priority. Yes? And during that time your marriage was, your wife. Pleasure is simply a gift from marriage. A gift from my lovely mother and I. I suppose.” You stated, continuing walking away from Dream to sit on your throne chair again wiping dried tears away.

“Pleasure?” He now questioned angrily.

“Yes. Pleasure. My mother made sure to tell me all about it.” you replied cold crossing your legs on the throne.

Aphrodite. The goddess of beauty, passion, fertility and marriage. Blessing everyone but her only daughter.

Dream lowered his head. Almost embarrassed.

“Pleasure is undeniable. I admit it but I am quite sure you have received that as well Harmonia.”

I just stayed there, unable to move as my eyes glistened with tears again. I missed Morpheus so bad. My body craved his. I needed him.

“He needs you.” the wind spoke.

We looked at each other for a couple of seconds and when I was about to get up again Morpheus was now in front of me, leaning down, kissing me.

It was a sloppy, hungry, messy kiss. After centuries of not feeling his touch and his oddly warm hands on my body. We kept kissing for what felt like those centuries we had missed together. I didn’t care what my parents would have to say in the moment.

I wanted my lover back.

The end.

[passcode58]

Not Requested |

Fluff |

Pairings | Chase Davenport x Cheerleader reader

Word Count | 1409

The hallways of Mission Creek High School were abuzz with excitement. It was the start of a new semester, and students were catching up with their friends and sharing stories of their summer adventures. Among them were a trio of an uncanny nature. Siblings born out of innovation, trying to fit into a simpler world. Chase and his siblings recently transferred to the school and he found himself ridden with anxiety, this new change in environment didn't bode well for him. You see Chase was known for his intelligence and incredible abilities, which he had inherited from his bionic enhancements. This should make him cool, hot, and popular, right? However, instead, he was a short, nerdy nerd with the personality of a snobby egotistical dick, who often bit off more than he could chew. Not exactly your average pearly-toothed jock.

Infact, his brother was the cool guy. Tall, dark hair, chiselled jaw, and buff. Funny jokes, no brain but the charisma pulled through for him. He knew he couldn't compete but he wanted to at least make one friend. He made his way through the crowded hallway, eyes set on the new scenery around him. The floors were a bit dirty, but they were better than the tube he spent most of his life confined to. So, he kept his eyes trained on the floor, until something caught his eye.

"And one, and two, and three!"

He noticed a group of cheerleaders practising their routines in the gymnasium. His attention was immediately drawn to one girl in particular. He didn't know who you were, he didn't know your name yet he felt the need to know you, as any teenage boy would. His eyes flittered accross the room and your legs came into view, perfectly visible due to the length of your skirt, or lack thereof. Gorgeous, dark, and muscular, he could tell that you were athletic. Then, his gaze trailed upwards to your hips, they were more defined than the lot of girls in the school– and well the face card pulled full time. Plump lips, a beautiful mole, and pretty doe eyes. You were practically a doll, a pretty little thing, especially with your goddess braids done up, falling down your shoulder like a waterfall. He was simply entranced.

Then he heard your name. 

"I'm sorry (Y/n). I messed up!"

"It's no problem Em. we can run it again, okay?"

'(Y/n), that's your name.' Your infectious energy and enthusiasm caught his eye. But also your beauty, but he's not shallow! He's not shallow for sure— 

"Cool Kat's leading the cheer squad again." Someone shoved him aside, rushing into the gym to watch you. Now he also know your nickname is Cool Kat, and your real name was (Y/n). You were appointed captain for your incredible flexibility and captivating smile. You had always been the life of the party, lighting up any room you entered with your vivacious personality. As the cheerleading captain, you took your role seriously and put your heart and soul into every routine. You were cool, hot and popular but in brief moments he could see you tugging at the hem of your skirt and biting your lip, eyes creasing when something went wrong.

He watched you argue with someone for messing up the routine but you also helped them improve it, giving them a second chance. "Vicious but sweet," someone said. "Yeah she's Hot and cold," but she's so…dreamy.

Like any ordinary teenage boy— which ironically he was not— he couldn't help but feel a strange connection to you. There was something about you that intrigued him, something beyond your athletic prowess and dazzling smile but he didn't dare to approach you. Not yet, at least 

"You know, bionic or not you could get arrested and a serious deduction in

social cred for creepily eyeing up the hottest girl in school." Bree says casually. Chase frowns. "I was not."

"You were," and now Adam joins in, stealing an apple from his bag.

"Look bro, we love you, okay? There's a lot of girls I'm sure would…date you— if you pray enough— but this chick ain't one." He felt that deep within because he believes it. He does and it hurts so he storms off.

He swore he wouldn't talk to you, he swore he'd stay away but god. He bumps into you in the hallway, such a cliché thing to do. His super strength sends you barrelling to the floor and tears well up in your eyes at the impact. It was hard, your leg began to bleed. Today was a bad day and he made it worse. "For fucks sake." your mouth was foul, he'd heard that about you too but he liked it. Not right now though, he panicked and rushed over frantically. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" and he moves over to lift you up but you don't like this. You hate it, who even is this boy and why was he touching you when you never asked for his help!? "Excuse me," You said and his arms were promptly pried off. The all knowing Chase Davenport didn't know what to do. "Hey I said I'm sorry." Chase repeats and his eyes soften. "Genuinely, I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to, please just let me help you, it's the very least I could do." You were still upset, hands trembling but he gently placed his hands over you, and softly said "Breathe in…Breathe out… It was like a gust of gentle wind passed through you. Normally these exercises didn't help, but when he guided you it felt different. You could hear your heart beating slower and slower and suddenly, you didn't feel so defensive or upset. It was an accident. He wasn't setting this up to take advantage of you like other guys, he was genuinely a klutz with garbage timing. So you let him.

"Thank you, for helping me."

"Hey, I kinda knocked you over in the first place, which is so stupid of me, again I'm so sorry." But his guilt made you smile. "It's okay, stranger. I'm sorry I reacted like that. I was really defensive…guys here can be weird." And he knows, given that, you know he's not even a normal human being. 

You took his features in. He seemed familiar but you couldn't quite put your finger on it. Noticing your gaze, he cleared his throat and announced "By the way, I'm Chase. I'm new here, and I couldn't help but notice your amazing cheerleading skills. You're really impressive." He didn't know where he got this confidence from, but his mind seemed to have been absolutely fucked when he saw your pretty eyes.

You turned to face Chase, eyes sparkling with excitement now. "Hey, Chase! You're one of the Devenport kids right? I've seen your siblings around." And his heart wants to sink as you mention his older brother chatting her up a few times and buying you drinks. Of course the older Davenport got to you first. Of course of course of course. "Thanks for the compliment. I'm always thrilled to meet new people, especially those who appreciate cheerleading. It's such a passion of mine! Although the circumstances are quite…undesirable," and then he's brought out of his jealousy by your words. "Your brother is so sweet but he doesn't seem to appreciate my cheerleading like you do. Say, wanna talk some more?" and to be honest he doesn't even know what to make of this, so he awkwardly shakes his head. Maybe it was a shitty prank but once they actually continued talking, Chase discovered that you were not only talented but also incredibly kind and down-to-earth. A bit snappy— he made note not to get on your bad side— but generally pretty sweet.

"Chase, you're genuine and I like that. I like you, I think we should be friends, if you don't mind that is, I totally get if you don't want t—"

"NO!" Upon bearing his output your heart sank and your eyes widen, immediately, surprised by this. Maybe he didn't like you?

"Wait not no— I meant yes, as in I want to be your friend!" and you smile. 

"Then take my number."

He can't stop himself from grinning like a fool, but he holds it together.

"I— uh, I just want to tell you, while I think you're pretty I want to get to know you for more than that. I genuinely think you're an amazing person and thanks for giving me a chance." And for the first time you didn't feel like (Y/n) the vain, mean, airheaded, snappy and arrogant cheerleader. Weirdly enough this weirded you out, but it was something new and exciting and you were willing to give this friendship a chance too.

I'm in love

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) - Paris: Chapter Eighteen

Alastor x F!Reader

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plan brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

(Let me know if you want to be added to the Tag List!)

____________________________________________

Dear Hoteliers,

Why 2 alternate endings? A few reasons; the main reason is because I wrote this first part with Angel and Mikaela and FELL IN LOVE with it. It was so cute and adorable I had to include it somehow. Also, because not everyone loves a pregnancy trope. I, particularly, was genuinely torn. I could not decide how I wanted things to end. "My Fawn and My Shadow" will include a pregnancy trope but "Paris" will not.

I will say, the epilogue I have planned for "My Fawn and My Shadow" had me crying (were they happy tears? were they sad tears? Is she foreshadowing? IDK!) - but, that being said, to each their own. Should you choose to read both, be aware that some sections are straight up copy and paste. The Epilogues will obviously vary greatly.

P.S. Ignore the timeline for the pregnancy trope. In reality, this is not how biology works. But someone *cough* author *cough* forgot to factor in the timeline by the time she got to this chapter... It was part of my original outline, but I got carried away *insert upside-down smiley face here*

<3 Stay smutty

Paris: Chapter Eighteen

Content Warning: Self Harm

T-3 hours until the portal opens…

“Okay, okay, I got this!” Collin breathed. 

Cletus banged him atop his head, “Just open the door!”

The sheep shot a dirty look at the… baby?... before drying his sweaty hooves on his overalls. 

This was it. This was the moment Collin had been waiting for his entire life. He has only ever seen the famous General at a distance and worshipped her from a far during meetings and through photographs. He had every single one of her fan club t-shirts and collector’s pins. He knew her battle strategies inside and out and scored perfect at every trivia night. He was the ultimate fan-girl and this was his moment to shine. 

And he was terrified. 

“Oh, my gosh!” Kennie shoved past him. “I’ll do it!” She prostrated before pulling the bedroom door open. 

The group froze, stunned by the sight of the yellow-eyed Angel ready and waiting for them on the other side. Mikaela Morningstar sat in a clothed chair perfectly perched in the entryway to her bedroom. The Angel had just finished the top laces of her leather boots before the Cherubs burst through the doorway. 

Mikaela had been waiting for them. 

Collin’s jaw audibly hit the floor at the sight of the warrior, legs crossed, one eyebrow perched in question, staring down at the three of them. She was like a goddess in material form - not to disrespect the Maker, of course. Her beauty practically radiated off of her in golden light as captivating as her irises. Although she had changed her hair and her wings were tucked out of the way, she was a vision. Collin couldn’t help but drool at the sight of her. 

“About time the three of you showed up,” the Angel laughed. “Talk about keeping a girl waiting.”

“You…” Cletus stumbled over his words. “You knew we were here?”

“Knew?” The Angel tipped her head in question. A habit she had picked up from a dear… friend. “You’ve been following me for days. Nifty’s collection of wool can only grow so much before a girl gets suspicious.” Mikaela laughed it off as if it was a joke, but Keenie’s head was still very, very sore. 

The Cherubs had no answer for her. 

“What can I do for you?” With hands perched in her lap, the General inspected the three of them, lazily soaking in their forms as they collectively entered the room. 

Wow. Mikaela Morningstar had expected them. Well, duh! Of course! She was God’s General! How could she not have seen them coming? She probably knew about everything: the phone call from Velvette, the orders from Rachel, their banishment from Heaven. She was, after all, an Archangel. Collin still couldn’t comprehend the situation. 

“Ms. Morningstar,” Collin began. Did he sound as nervous as he felt? “We have been sent from Heaven to return you to the Seraphim.”

The Angel blinked, but didn’t respond. Her face remained neutral as Collin spoke and even for a few moments after. He wiped his hooves on his pants again. The Cherub was thoroughly drenched in anxious sweat, which, hopefully, no one noticed. 

“Why?” 

“Why?” Kennie shoved her way forward. “Because you belong there? You’re Mikaela, the General, Heaven’s Archangel. You’ve been gone for over a hundred years doing…”

“God’s work.” Mikaela interrupted the sheep. 

“What?” Cletus asked. 

The Archangel chuckled. “You didn’t seriously think I just ran away from Heaven on a whim, did you?” 

The three Cherubs looked at each other for an answer, but it was the sheep who spoke first. “No, of course not!”

“Thank you, Collin,” Mikaela smiled. 

The Cherub’s heart jumped right out of his chest. “You know my name!?”

“Of course,” her eyes softened. “Why wouldn’t I know one of my biggest fans?”

____________________________________________

Yesterday…

“Hello, thank you for calling, C.H.E.R.U.B., how may we bless you today?”

“Hi! I’m calling about a loved one back on Earth who needs some help. It seems he’s lost his way a bit and I’d really rather not see him down here.” You twirled the cord in your hand.

Alastor sat across from you, a cup of tea in hand, one leg crossed over the other as he enjoyed the dyling light of day. 

“Of course! Can I get a name?”

“Well, actually… I’m quite protective of him, you see, and I want to know that you are sending your best.” The sweetness in your voice was practically sickening, but it made Alastor chuckle. “I was wondering who would be going. Would it be the three from the television commercial?”

“Cletus, Collin, and Keenie? By golly, no! They don’t work for us anymore.”

“Interesting…” You smiled. 

“Can I get the name of the person who needs a blessing?”

“No,” and you hung up the receiver. 

Alastor chuckled as he sipped his tea. “You make this look too easy, my doe. If it weren’t for the circumstances, you'd be running the place.”

This place... As in all of existence.

You grabbed your jasmine tea and clanked your cup with his. “How unfortunate the plan is to destroy it all instead.”

____________________________________________

Now...

The Cherub nearly feinted. 

The Archangel leaned in, speaking to the sheep directly. “You have to promise to keep everything I tell you a secret. No one can know that I am here.”

Collin blinked the stars from his eyes, “Of course! I would never!” 

In a whisper, Mikaela continued, “I’m on a secret mission from God. I can’t go into any detail, naturally…”

“Naturally!” Collin was nodding his head so hard he could have been mistaken for a bobble head. 

Mikaela leaned in a whispered, “... I’m here to find Roo.”

Collin stopped nodding. “Roo?”

“Roo.” Mikaela repeated, as if that answered all of their questions. 

“Wait!” Cletus interrupted once more. “You’re telling us that you are supposed to be here? Cavorting with demons!”

“Shhh,” Mikaela shushed. “Yes.”

Keenie scratched her sore head. “To find someone named Roo?”

“She’s the biggest threat against Heaven. Rumor has it that she’s planning an uprising against God. That’s why he left with me and went into hiding. Couldn’t have him unprotected while I hunted down this rebel.”

Too much information? Nope! Who the fuck is going to believe a bunch of banished Cherubs anyway? They can’t get back to Heaven and no one in Heaven would take them seriously even if they did. Negatives of fucking up with the Upstairs Management but a positive for you.

You could have told them any story that convinced them to leave you alone, and it would be no sweat off your back.

“Oooooooh,” Collin nodded. “That makes so much sense!”

“What!?” Keenie and Cletus echoed each other. 

“What?” Mikaela looked confused. “Do you think I’m lying?” She laughed. “Come now. I may be surrounded by demons, but I am still an Angel.” 

The three Cherubs blinked at her. 

“Oh.” Cletus awkwardly scratched his large head. 

Heaven Natives are so naive. Were you this gullible way back when?

The Angel adjusted the tie on her leather bracer. “And the three of you are interfering with my plan.” 

“What!?” Collin gawked. 

“I can’t exactly have Heaven stalking my every move while I’m on the job,” Mikaela rises from her chair, a towering figure over the tiny Cherubs. 

“Right! Right!” Collin was already headed for the door. 

Mikaela quickly ushered the other two out, ignoring the look of disbelief on their faces. 

“Thanks for understanding, guys.”

And then door shut behind them. 

Collin continued to drool in the direction of the doorway. 

“Now what?” Keenie asked as she dragged him by the collar down the hall.

“She’s so cool,” Collin gawked. 

Cletus smacked his face and rubbed the tension from his temples. “We return to Earth. I need time to think about this and I’m starving. I sure as fudge am not eating anything down here…”

____________________________________________

You shut the door behind them. 

“See,” you turned to the shadow at the back of the room. “I told you they’d believe me.” 

Alastor materialized from the darkness. With his cane in hand, he snaked the other around your waist and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

This was not the first time you had run into one of Father’s minions. With Eve’s wild party streak, the two of you didn’t exactly keep a low profile. In fact, it would be odd for the two of you to not run into one of the Ishim or even a few Cherubs while they were on the job. You were recognized - because of course - and typically played it off as a happenstance run in while on a mission.

After all, the rumors in Heaven were that you were on some top secret mission with Father anyway. What were they more likely to believe: you were being a good little “Golden Girl” or playing Armageddon with Eve?

Eve on the other hand, either slept with the Holy invader if able, convinced them she was mortal if they were too young to know her face, or simply disappeared leaving you to fend for yourself.

What a friendship the two of you had…

“I never doubted you, my doe,” the demon mumbled into your hair. 

You grabbed for Alastor’s lapels to pull him down and…

“Alastor, what’s in your coat pocket?” Your fingers met something hard and boxy. 

The demon ignored your question. Instead, from the Void, Alastor pulled a hair clip - a new one. The metal was red, and pointed, with a small “A” pressed into one of the tongs. 

“I had Carmilla make it,” the demon holds the clip between the two of you, pushing you back so you are no longer pressed so closely together.

The red was a perfect match to Alastor’s eyes. 

How intentional… 

“Thank you,” you reached for it, but he pulled away. 

The demon was distracting you, but you allowed it. Your nerves were shot anyway and Alastor felt… off…

“Allow me?” He offered. 

Turning towards the mirror above the dresser, Alastor flipped your hair into a bun, clipping it at the back of your head perfectly square with your shoulders. 

You stared at the demon’s reflection in the mirror, noting the lack of music playing on his radio, noting the loss of static in his voice. He was nervous… 

“Al, everything changes after today. This is where the Endgame plan truly begins.” You tested the waters to see if that was what was bugging him.

“Hmm,” the demon continued to inspect your hair, his mind clearly stuck on something else. Not Armageddon plaguing his thoughts?

“But,” you turned to him, your back leaning against the dresser. “If I know war, and I do, there is always a lull after a battle. Perhaps, if just for a few days, we get out of here?”

“Oh?”

“I have safe houses in every Ring of Hell and in a few major countries on Earth - including an emergency backup in Heaven if things end up truly terrible… I have an apartment…” God, why were you so nervous? “In France.” 

The demon’s eyes sparked. 

“It’s in Place de l'Estrapade, not a far walk from the Pont Neuf bridge, just across the way from Jardin du Luxembourg*. I know it’s not Louisiana, but… There’s this adorable bakery in the square that I know you will love and…”

The demon swallowed your words with his lips. “Mes valises sont déjà faites. My bags are already packed.”

Right, why did you ever think Alastor Hartfelt would turn down a trip to France? 

Alastor’s shoulder slacked just a bit.

Then it hit you.

It was the after that was bugging him. After the battle that is. He comforted you last night in regards to your qualms with the battle, but funny how facing imminent death felt like an everyday for the Overlord.

But the after made him nervous.

The after…

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

“You lovebirds done shackin’ up o’ what?” Angel screamed from the other side of the wall. 

“Seriously?” Husk scoffed. “You called me up here for this?”

“What? Come on, Whiskers, you love spendin’ time with me,” Angel teased. 

You could practically hear the disbelief on Husk’s face through the door, “I thought you wanted me to help you bring something down, not hold your fuckin’ hand because you’re too scared of the Boss.”

“I ain’t scared of nothin’!” The spider demon protested. 

You smiled at Alastor, grateful for the spontaneous distraction. The demon pressed a kiss to your cheek and melted into shadow. 

Throwing the door open, both Husk and Angel jumped back in surprise before they realized it was just you. 

“Ha!” Angel crosses his arms. “See yous was scared, too!”

“I..!” Husk’s face turns red. “I was scared because she fuckin’ appeared outta nowhere, not because of…”

“Me,” Alastor melted from the floor, appearing behind the two of them. 

Angel jumped into you, grabbing onto your arm for support, while Husk remained utterly unphased. 

“Yeah, him,” the cat crossed his arms. 

You giggled at the sight of the two of them, the laughter breathing life back into your chest.

Just don't think about it... Yeah? Yeah! Don't think about it. Everything is going to be okay! It's fine. Everything is fine!

Taking a deep breath, you planted a smile on your face. “Come on, boys, we have an army to ready.”

You snuck a glance at Alastor, who looked distracted, wholly unaware of the nerves in your belly. Whatever was captivating him, you were thankful for it. It was quite uncharacteristic of him, but then again, you’ve never seen Alastor in the hours leading up to battle.

For whatever reason, you were disappointed in the last few remaining private moments you might possibly have had with the demon. Not that you were expecting a big declaration of love from him.

Holy shit, you still hadn’t even told him you love him!

Oh, no, no, no, no.

You put the brakes on.

You’d been so distracted by the Cherubs that you completely forgot about everything from last night! “Al, I need to talk to you-“

“There she is! There’s my little tomatuh!” Rosie had you in a hug so tight one would argue it was a chokehold.

“Rosie, dear! How delightful to see you!” Alastor pressed a kiss to the top of her hand. “Is that a new scarf? It looks astonishing on you darling, absolutely astonishing!”

The Overlord’s eyes shined like stars, “Oh! Al, stop! You flatter me.” Rosie ran a hand through her new purple boa.

“It isn’t flattery if it’s true!” Al came to stand beside you, his hands wrapped around the top of his cane.

The smell of the forest after rain calmed your nerves.

It’s okay. After. You can tell him after because there will be an after.

There will be an after.

Heading down the hall you ignored Angel's worried eyes on you. You ignored Alastor's shadow swirling about your feet with concern. And you ignored Husk's offer for a drink. For you had too many things to focus on right now...

A battle to win...

An identity to keep hidden...

A Human Sinner who still didn't know how you truly felt about him...

Welcome to the Endgame.

____________________________________________

T-1 minute until the portal opens…

“This is it,” you press your forehead into Alastor’s. “Al, I -”

“Shh, my doe. Entre deux cœurs qui s’aiment, nul besoin de paroles,” and then the demon melted into shadow, to find his place atop the Hotel.

Goddamit, the demon switched between French and English so fast you couldn’t keep up half the time.

Charlie appeared next to you, a hand on your shoulder. “You’ll get a chance to tell him.”

You blinked. But how did she…?

“Uh,” Vaggie cut in. “I don’t mean to break up this moment, but we have Angels incoming.” The ex-Exorcist pointed her spear at the sky, where a large portal had cracked through the walls of reality.

Fixing your hood atop your head, you summoned your two short blades from the Void and readied yourself next to the Princess.

On the other side of the portal, you could make out the beautiful golden glow of Heaven. God, you did not miss it.

Two figures stepped through: Adam and Lute.

And then the onslaught began - but not before Alastor summoned his dark shield. The mass of magic covered the Hotel in a dome. Some of the Exorcists made it through, but the less fortunate ones bounced off in a wave of broken bones.

“It’s working!” Charlie screamed.

Until it wasn’t.

With a flick of Adam’s wrist the shield melted and then the Exorcists fell through.

It was a dance of a battle. A beautiful pirouette of savagery and desperation, impregnating the air with the stench of golden iron.

You would have found yourself riding the high of battle had you not had Charlie to look after. Yes, Vaggie could well protect her on her own but it was the deal with Lilith that ensured no harm came to the Princess.

As the Princess shot sparkles you shot daggers. As she sang apologies, you delivered death. Constantly you were forced to grab her by the wrist and twirl her from danger. It was hard work, one that captivated all of your attention.

Good. You needed the distraction.

BOOM!

Cherries’ explosions began, the next line of defense before the Exorcists reached Sir Pentious and his battery of cannons.

This was good! Things were looking good!

Fuck you might actually all make it out of this thing.

BAM!

The next thing you knew, you were on the ground, a pain so powerful ripping through your core it blinded every sense, every fiber of your being.

Green light exploded from the scar which cut you from neck to hip, a beacon of agony which temporarily halted the onslaught from Heaven as Human Sinners and Angels alike were forced to shield their eyes. The wall of light shot up into the atmosphere of Hell before dispersing into a rainstorm of sparks that fell upon the whole of Pentagram City.

You felt, rather than saw, hands upon you. The green had burned your retinas, completely blinding you. Your body healed fast, however, but not fast enough to clearly make out the fuzzy grey/red blob shaking your shoulders.

“Come on, kid! Come on! Don’t quit on me!”

The pain numbed your body, but your Angelic blood quickly fought against it. Your fingers and toes tingled as your mind reset itself over and over again. Where are you? What happened? The memory of pain threatened to spill as the ability to breathe found your lungs, as your eyes remembered how to blink.

“Holy Hell, what da fuck was that!?”

“I don’t fucking know, but both Boss and her went down at the same time.”

“What da fuck kind of Voodoo shit did he do ta ‘er?”

You forced your mind to clarity, forced the blurriness into - somewhat - sharper objects. A vague outline of Husk and Angel came into view, along with a background of Exorcist Angels flying overhead. The fighting had resumed despite the interruption.

“Husk?” You mumbled. Grabbing onto the cat’s paw, you slowly pulled yourself into a sitting position. Despite the pain which had surged through your scar, no wound was visible. You hadn’t been struck after all. “What…?”

There was a pull behind your navel - it was weak, oh-so weak.

Alarm bells immediately went off.

Alastor.

Without a thought, you shoved away from the cat demon and shot into the air, not caring that your wings were now on full display for the entire Angelic Army to view. Not caring that the hood Charlie helped make you was now shredded to pieces.

You hit the roof, landing practically on top of the red and black mass crumbled in a heap of blood. Using your black wings, you attempted to shield as much of Alastor as you could.

You couldn’t make out Alastor completely, your vision was still sluggish to return despite you willing your blood to heal as fast as it could, but you could feel him. You could feel his heart beating wildly, feel the pain with every breath, feel the one ounce of panic the Overlord allowed himself to feel in this moment as he watched you take up a defensive fighting stance over his prone form.

The demon was hurt and bad.

Like a panther protecting her wounded mate, you unleashed the full force of your power. Dark and twisted horns grew from your skull as you morphed into your demon form. A spiked tail uncurled from your backside, your fingernails sharpened into claws, and your fangs elongated to a point. The sclera of your eyes flashed black as the rune on your back was unlocked, the text from the Book of Knowledge melting into your hands, forming an exoskeleton of Newtonian fluid that flowed over your appendages.

As your vision healed, the Angel’s stupid helmet sharpened, a look of pure shock reflected in the metal. Adam had his guitar and Alastor’s blood was still fresh as it dripped off the blade.

“Don’t…” Alastor protested, but his sentence was cut off with a cough.

“Mikaela?” Adam’s jaw dropped.

Your only response was a low growl. Pure instinct had kicked in. You were more animal than Angel.

You felt the coldness of Rolf wrap around your ankle, but it was barely a whisper compared to how solid the shadow normally felt. The shadow tugged, threatening to whisk you away from the rooftop, but be it the weakening of Alastor’s magic or your stubbornness, you did not move.

“Holy shit, it is you! How you doing, sister?” The First Man smiled, lowering his sword.

Behind you, you could feel the blood flowing from Alastor’s chest as real and as solid as it would your own. It only added to the panic and anger and desperation you were feeling in this moment.

“Where’s Eve?” The Angel looked around as if the Second Woman might turn the corner at any moment and join the conversation.

“Dead,” you bore your teeth and growled, your voice laced with Alastor’s radio static.

“What?” Adam did a double-take.

You pulled your sword from the Void, your blue fire licking the steel’s surface as small green bouts of static danced its way down your arm and disappeared into the heat. “And you’re next,” you threatened, your voice filled with static.

“Wait,” Adam narrowed his eyes, his pupils darting back and forth between the two of you as he slowly put the pieces together. “Wait. Wait. Wait.” He put up a hand. “You’re defending this loser?”

You growled, your teeth itching to sink into flesh.

Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. A voice rang in the back of your head.

“Woah, there, sister. We’re on the same fucking team!” Adam had a look of pure terror on his face.

From your crouched position on the ground, you moved forward.

Adam immediately dropped his sword and began backing up. “Listen! Listen! Listen!” He stammered. “Let’s just take a fucking second and talk like bros. Okay?” His laugh was strained. “I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation for why you’re down here defending the scum of existence? Ha, ha. Right?”

Kill him, the voice commanded.

You growled again and attempted to take another step forward, but a clawed hand wrapped around your tail and tugged. Finally, you turned to face Alastor and the sight knocked you out of your bloodthirsty trance.

The demon was pale, a deep gouge sliced right across his chest in an exact mirror image to your injury from Velvette. You felt the anger flee from you then, only to be replaced with pure terror. You met Alastor’s stern eye and the look he shot you stopped you dead in your tracks.

But it was already too late. All of Heaven had seen. Mikaela Morningstar was alive and well in Hell, defending Lucifer’s daughter in a battle against Heaven. You had killed Exorcists. A war was brewing, and you were a part of it.

The demon shuttered out a pained breath, one you felt reverberate through your own chest. You dropped your sword, the steel popping back into the Void before it even made contact with the ground. Falling to your knees before Alastor, you cupped his face in your hands and pressed a soft but shaky kiss to his forehead.

“What, the fuck?” Adam gawked behind you.

Every part of you was screaming to rip the Angel limb from limb, but you fought the instinct, and instead channeled that energy into the connection that had ripped open between you and Alastor. You let your magic flow through your inky fingers and into the demon, willing his heart to beat faster, to slow the blood seeping from his wounds, to staunch the pain in his chest.

Alastor’s eyes fluttered closed as he took a deep breath, already the color returning to his cheeks.

You turned to Adam then, your black sclera burning pure hatred into the Angel’s heart. “I won’t be the one to kill you today, Adam.”

“I am so fucking confused,” the Angel scratched his head.

“Adam!” Charlie appeared atop the rooftop, royally pissed as she hung from the Hotel sign.

And with that, you shadowed the two of you from the rooftop, landing in the only place you could think of to go right now: Alastor’s radio tower.

Atop the balcony, you pulled the clip from your hair and slit open your wrist, dripping a waterfall of golden blood into Alastor’s wounds.

“Stop,” the demon tried to shove your hand away, but he was too weak at this moment to do anything other than lay there and breathe.

Clenching your jaw shut, you didn’t let up until you watched the first stitches of skin begin to form. Jesus Christ, the wound was deep. It had cut through several ribs but, thankfully, had not nicked his heart. Alastor would have been dead before you had even landed on that rooftop had it gone any deeper.

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! You knew! You fucking knew this was going to happen!

A tear fell from your cheek and landed in the mixture of black and gold liquid swirling atop the demon’s chest.

“Stop,” Alastor said more forcefully. The demon wrapped a hand around your wrist, the golden liquid bubbling through his fingers. He pulled you down into him and pressed his forehead into yours. “I’m alright, my doe.”

“This is my fault,” your voice cracked. Green static danced across your skin, your demon form still out in full force. Sucking in a breath, you forced yourself to your feet. Sinking your inky hands into your hair, you paced the floor, your wings dragging behind you.

Alastor’s magic jumped off your form in sparks. Which was impossible but you didn’t have the mental room to even consider why.

Alastor had almost died! He could’ve died! Adam almost killed him!

“My doe,” Alastor attempted to sit up, but the pain from the wound was too much, his body demanding every ounce of power to heal.

“My fault,” you shuttered. “My fault. My fault. My fault!” You bent over the handrail and threw up.

Alastor jumped to his feet then, one hand wrapped around his middle to stop his insides from spilling out. “Mikaela!”

Using his cane for support, the demon forced himself to stand next to you. His red irises bled into your soul, his brow crinkled with worry.

Your entire body was shaking as he wrapped his arms around you. “It was not your fault.”

“I almost lost you,” you mumbled into his coat jacket, drenched in blood.

____________________________________________

Somewhere Else in Hell…

“Ha, ha,” Striker plucked the cigar from his mouth and tapped the lit end into the cement lining of the roof.

The imp pulled the rifle to his shoulder and aligned the scope with his eye. “Too easy.”

And pulled the trigger.

____________________________________________

You saw the bullet before you heard it.

BANG!

The metal object soared towards you as if in slow motion, the iconic swirls of Angelic Steel clearly coating its surface.

But the bullet meant for you did not hit its mark.

For Alastor shoved you at the last moment, appearing between you and the shooter.

Red irises met yours, “Mourir d’amour, vivre de haine…”

The bullet met its mark right between Alastor’s eyes.

Dying for love…

“Nooo!”

The demon went down, his cane smacking against the metal balcony in an explosion of green sparks.

You spun, immediately knowing where the bullet originated from. You didn’t care who or what was on the other end. Fuck you didn’t even care why.

Kill, the voice echoed as a blast of dark ink shot out from your hand. Like a wave of a tsunami, the mass collided with the building the shooter was perched atop of, taking out the top twenty floors. You swung down, collapsing the building in on itself in one fell swoop.

Whoever it was - plus the inhabitants of the building - were dead.

“Alastor!” You screamed as you collapsed onto the ground next to him. Dark blood pooled beneath his head. The wound between his eyes steamed with green as his magic desperately fought to heal.

But fought in vein.

You watched as Alastor’s eyes fogged with the veil of death.

“No! No! No!”

And felt his Soul fade from his body.

“Alastor!”

You screamed. You begged. You cried.

“Don’t!”

You even heard yourself begging with God to let him live.

“You promised you wouldn’t leave me again!”

But you could do nothing as his Soul slipped from his body…

“No! Don’t! You can’t!”

… and faded from this world entirely.

“Don’t leave…”

Alastor was dead.

“Don’t leave me…”

____________________________________________

You don’t know how long you lay there.

Minutes?

Hours?

Days?

Years?

Long enough that Alastor had grown cold next to you. Long enough that the blood began to crust against your skin. Long enough that your joints hurt and your body begged to move.

He was gone.

Alastor was gone.

You curled into him, praying somehow your warmth might leech into him and warm his cold body back to life. Praying he’d brush a hand through your hair and tell you everything was going to be alright.

Praying this was just a dream.

Praying that you were the one dead instead.

Praying that you were both dead and this was some sick version of Purgatory Father had concocted for you as a punishment.

“Al…” You mumbled into his jacket, your fingers curling around his lapel as if he would fade beneath your touch entirely.

Too soon. Too fast.

And all your fault.

All your fault…

And then your fingers brushed something hard.

In his jacket, hidden away in a pocket you didn’t know he had, was a small leather box.

Fuck.

No. No. No. No. No.

Sitting up with alarm, you dropped it on the balcony and scooted away.

That better not be what you think it is.

Open it.

You jumped.

A young woman with hair as brown as mud and eyes to match sat across from you. Cross legged, arms folded neatly in her lap as her curls pooled down her back, the girl stared intently at the small leather box.

Open it, she repeated.

You didn’t respond, your mind was too preoccupied with trying to comprehend how this was happening.

It’s a ring, obviously, but you already knew that. You think that’s why he was so distracted today? She motioned to the blood. How pathetic…

“Shut up!” You bit, your throat raw from years of crying.

Ouch. Is that anyway to greet an old friend? Oh, wait, sorry. Were we even friends? I mean, you did murder me and all. Did Alastor…

“I said, shut up, Eve!”

Her eyes found the box once more. Do you think he’s an emerald man or a diamond man? Emerald is more classic for the 30s but diamonds! Ugh, I’m just dying to know, aren’t you?

She went for the box, but you were faster. You held it against your heart, “Don’t touch it!”

Eve gasped, Is that why he asked you to take him to Louisiana to visit his Mother!? Awww, he stayed behind to tell his Mom about the ring. How sweet. Too bad she wasn’t actually there. - ya know, being in Heaven and all. But I suppose it’s the thought that counts.

“Why are you here?” The words seeped out from behind clenched teeth.

She smirked. Because you let me out.

You followed her eyes to your hand, still black from the ink. You never sealed the power away after desecrating the building.

Fuck, you were still in your demon form.

You’ve never let me out this long before. Figured it was time to stretch my legs and finally introduce myself. She stood and made her way to you, stretching her limbs as she went. Holding a hand out to you she made to help you stand.

Hello, I’m the Book of Knowledge, but you can call me Eve and we are going to have so much fun together.

You didn’t take her hand.

Your eyes found the dark jacket seeped in blood laying a few feet away.

You went to him, your fingers brushing the curls away from his face. With his eyes closed he looked as if he was sleeping - so peaceful.

Even in death, Alastor smiled.

The girl frowned, clearly annoyed that you weren’t giving her your full undivided attention. What about power and chaos, and all that jazz? What about revenge!?

To power and chaos…

“There is no power and chaos without him.” Pressing a kiss to his forehead, you whispered, “I love you, too.”

Wait, so that’s it? Eve threw her hands in the air. The plan is over? The big Endgame we’ve been planning for over one hundred years is just done!?

You stood, “New plan.”

New plan? Eve scrunched her nose. What new plan?

You smiled softly, the dark ink slowly invading your arm, “The one where everyone dies.”

Oh! Oh! Oh! I like that plan. Where do we start?

You turned to the pile of rubble 100 yards away. “Greed.”

-> Paris: Epilogue

Annnnnnnd yet another cliff hanger. Come on guys you know me by now. Not everything is as it seems!

Tagged Hoteliers: (Let me know if you wish to be added!):

@sirens-and-moonflowers @saccharine-nectarine @wonderlandangelsposts @mommymilkers0526 @alastor-the-radio-demons-blog @eris-norwega @goyablogsstuff @missgirlsstuff

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[youngestsano]

𝓙𝓸𝓱𝓷 𝓓𝓸𝓡𝓨 𝔁 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

A/n : My friend wrote this since she wants to experience the feeling of the writing a scenario. But i hope you like it ! :))

Every morning of her day, there would be a new gift outside of her house waiting.

It would be so annoying that it would get in her way from time to time. She knew right away who it was from, as she found him very irritating when some days he tries to start conversations with her.

 

It’s not like she hates having conversations with people, but when it’s a person who tries to talk to her and gives her items to impress her just for fun, it could be infuriating.

Some days she tries to give little signs that she doesn’t find any interest in him or any of his gifts, but he’s so lovestruck that he doesn’t even see the signs this been happening for the past couple of months as she showed no interest in him. John finally figuring out that she has no interest in him as he decided to give one more chance, and if she declines this time he will have to eventually give up.

 

Until one morning, when she finally had enough of this sick behavior, As she was walking around the troll village until she saw a familiar guy, she immediately tried to speed away without getting noticed. But it was too late, as she heard her name being called out many times.

“Hey you! Y/N, Here! I got these flowers for you! Aren’t they beautiful? Just like you!!!” He said, smiling. His heart beat was rising, the girl was too cute for his liking. He had to have her to himself, one way or another.

"Oh, more flowers..?" Y/n notes, staring down at the bouquet John gave her. She seems annoyed by them, actually.

The girl picks a flower from the bouquet. "...what are these?"

She asks bluntly, taking the time to squish the flower in her hand. The petals are scattered everywhere, the flower is now destroyed. His smile becomes slightly crooked

“I-I uhm- I was only trying to do something nice for you! You know I have feelings for you- you don’t need to destroy it- I just wanted you to like it...” He said, almost holding back a tear.

The shortie tilts her head. "...so you like me?"

Y/n puts up one of her tiny eyebrows in intrigue.

"That's what you were doing? You were trying to impress me?" “Yes! I am! I can’t control myself when I see you... I want you to fall in love with me, so I must give you flowers and plushies! It’s my only shot at you...” He said, smiling through the pain in his eyes. "...why me?"

Y/n asks bluntly. She wasn't used to people actually liking her for her, so she was taken aback by his comment.

"He's actually serious?"

She thought, seeming to actually be interested in the way he's trying to win over her heart. His eyes light up, but he tried to hide it

“I-It’s hard to explain... When I see you, it feels as if the sky is clear of any clouds. Your smile, the way you act, your beauty... All of- All of It... You’re like a goddess to me...”

He said, getting off track. Y/n raises her other eyebrow.

"...you might be the first person to actually say something like that to me. Or is that just something you say to all the girls you want to get with?"

“No, No! Absolutely not! You are the first one- I would never say that to anyone! I’m being dead serious...” He put his heart in his hands, the girl’s eyes seemed so bright and captivating.

If his emotions are genuine, she might consider giving him a chance. She doesn't know if he's actually her 'type' or not, but it wouldn’t hurt to give him a chance and plus she felt bad since he was trying his hardest everyday well more like a month.

*”Why not?" She thought.*

"...alright. I'll give you a chance. If you can impress me enough, maybe I'll think about giving you a shot."

“Y-you will?!” He said, almost jumping out of his skin. He finally did it! He would be able to hold her close! His eyes gleamed like a child, he couldn’t wait for the next day he could see her! He also had a huge grin on his face.

He definitely put a lot of enthusiasm into his response. Y/n smiled upon seeing that.

"He's gonna be a lot easier to deal with than I originally thought." She thought with a smirk. She looked forward to him she then grabbed his hand. “yeah why not..” As she smiled brightly, He then shouted excitedly as he grabbed her letting out a big yelp from her mouth. Her arms wrapped around his neck “Cmon ! we’re going to our first date!”

“WAIT WHAT!?”

Request From : @cherryp0p224

[panda-writes-kpop]

Sweet Grape Slushie ~ Jinsoul

a/n: i'm still not over pjo s1, so you're getting another fic that can help cure the brain rot (ps i'll get back to requests after i post the dami b-day fic and work on the other march birthdays for idols and friends).

also, if you aren't aware, the slushie title comes from a prompt list I made a year(?) ago. Feel free to check it out below if you're interested!

tw: sad vibes for a sweet fic but it's okay bc I make the rules :), single parent! reader

Summary: You were a mortal. Jinsoul was a goddess. Your child was the best of both of you. Maybe it's time that the two of them meet.

♡ Masterlist ♡ ▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎ ☆ Prompt List ☆

It wasn’t fair.

To you, to her, to your child.

Her child.

To be a child of a goddess is to be blessed with glorious purpose and unending strife. To have a mother you have never met and another parent who is struggling to cope with day-to-day life.

Sometimes, you wish you hadn't gone to that stupid aquarium and met a beautiful woman who captivated your mind, body, and soul. She was ethereal, among other humans, but you would learn that she was, in all seriousness, out of this world.

Things were good between the two of you for a while. Jinsoul was everything you could've asked for in a partner. You were together for years, and you wish you would be together right now.

Maybe you wouldn't be such a complete fucking failure if she was right next to you.

You can imagine her sweet smile as she wraps her arms around you and cuddles into your side.

"C'mon, babe, we can figure this out. It's you and me. What can't we face together?" She'd softly whisper into your ear as you sigh.

"Parenthood, apparently." You mutter as you look over at your child.

They patiently await for you to return with not a clue in the world of your internal dialog. They'd have to know about Jinsoul one day... why not now?

You weren't really mad at her, and if you were, it didn't last long. She was a goddess who had much more important people to deal with. Jinsoul didn't need your emotional baggage as well.

You just wanted her to send a sign that she was thinking of you two. Something that says "sorry for leaving a baby on your doorstep and deciding to never see you again!".

You're probably asking for too much.

Against your better judgment, you grab a nearby matchbox and light a match before dropping it in a half-drank milkshake. You said you were going to pay the bill, as your excuse to compose yourself before having a mental breakdown in front of your child, but only empty dishes greeted you at the hostesses' desk.

You hear rain gently knock against a nearby window as a small tear runs down your face.

A bell rings, signaling the entrance of another guest.

Soft footsteps approach you until someone stops to your left.

"You came." You say, looking directly at your child.

You don't need to hear her voice to know that she's right there, but you find yourself relaxing when Jinsoul addresses you.

"You called."

[dionysism]

Please. Tell us your thoughts on epic the musical if you will. Positive and negative

i think i have before but its spread out across multiple posts so i will just go ahead and put everything into one place lol

trigger warning again for light reference to s/a cause i'm referring to what happened in the odyssey

positive:

i think they have clever word play. i made a post before about how the "i've got you, don't worry, circe's got you now" has the neat dual meaning with "i've got you" in its positive reassuring meaning and "i've got you now" in it's sinister "you're trapped i've got you" meaning. same thing with zeus' "a foe who won't run, unlike anyone you have faced before" sounding like he means some big dangerous enemy when he's actually referring to an infant.

the songs are catchy, i must admit! the musical scores are impressive too. i also like how the use the instruments to tell the story. like how each character has an instrument thats associated with them, and how you can tell the penelope in suffering is not actually penelope because her signature instrument is missing. neat stuff. i also like how eurylochus' instrument is the crew themselves.

negative:

i think some of their creative liberties undermine the point of the story or just do it a disservice, something i've said before in other posts. to be specific, i feel they have made this into a story of a Good character who turns ruthless after everything he's had to endure, and while that is an interesting story to explore, it's not odysseus' story. odysseus is, for lack of a better word, morally gray from the start. i think morally gray is really too simplistic to describe him as he is a rather complex character but what i mean is he is not a Good guy but he's not entirely a Bad guy either, you know? the odyssey is not about a honorable hero who sacrifices his morals by the end, it's a guy who's already kinda questionable who continues to do questionable things at times. for example "lets lead from the heart, see what starts" is just not something he would really say 😭😭 also in monster when he says "what if ive been far too kind to foes" hes not really kind to his foes. yes, he is capable of mercy, but hes not always approaching things with a "lets be kind ❤️" attitude.

having him spare polyphemus out of mercy was stupid to me, personally. in the odyssey he doesn't kill polyphemus because he needs him to move the boulder blocking the cave exit, and also, given his size, odysseus isn't fully certain they can kill him. blinding him instead of killing him was not an act of mercy, it was a strategic choice. and also having them kill his sheep first was senseless to me. the whole thing in the odyssey is polyphemus is in the wrong, and odysseus is in the right. they don't kill his sheep immediately, and polyphemus violates xenia, because polyphemus doesn't care about xenia. this why odysseus feels comfortable to reveal his name at the end, because he knows he's in the right, and he assumes he has delivered a punishment in accordance with the gods for the violation polyphemus has committed. it's still unwise of him to do so, but at least you can see where he's coming from. in epic it kind of makes no sense because they came into his house, killed his sheep, and then he reveals his name and home address after that?!:?:?:? and then athena fucking off forever like okay?:$:?:?: what was that about.

circe saga really irked me, aside from the compliments i've already given. they removed the aspect of him having to sleep with circe by just having him say no. the situation is not this simple. he literally could not say no. one, because hermes already warned him on the way there not to say no to anything she asks of him and two because shes literally a goddess. like yes the moly protects him from her spells but she could still very much kill him if she wanted. and there's also the factor of her having his men captive as swine. in the odyssey this shows you how powerless he is before the gods, which, is a pretty important aspect of the odyssey! also it's just simply unlike circe, as a character, to be like "ah i'm so moved by your faithfulness and acts of kindness i think i will just let your men go and aid your journey for absolutely nothing in return ❤️" whole saga just came off very sanitized. curious as to how they intend to approach calypso.

underworld saga like i said before its the sudden switch of him being about "leading from the heart" and "kindess" to "then i'll become the monster" like woah... just felt like abrupt 180 to me. and again it just annoys me in general cause this character arc is simply not accurate for him 😭 i've also said this before somewhere but sometimes i feel like the odysseus in epic is more like an oc than an adaptation of homer's odysseus. hence why i see him as a completely separate character (and get annoyed when people conflate them as one)

thunder saga i had more minor gripes with like the fact that odysseus also had the beeswax in his ears unlike in the odyssey where he doesn't and has his men tie him to the mast while he listens. this is just simply because i thought a song from odysseus' perspective while he's deluded by the siren song and begging to be untied would have been really interesting. but oh well ☹️ i actually will admit i didn't complete hate the change with his mens death for the cattle. obviously, in the odyssey, he's not given a choice by zeus—they kill the cattle, they leave eventually, zeus strikes the ship and odysseus is the sole survivor. however i do think this is interesting to explore. odysseus obviously cares very deeply for his men, and would do near anything to bring them home. he's not the type to just sacrifice them willy nilly like they don't matter. (the bit in the circe saga where eurylochus wants to leave them behind and odysseus says no we need to at least try is biblically accurate, that does happen in the odyssey) but at the end of the day... getting back to penelope trumps all else. so would he, do you think? if he had been given the choice, would he let them all die to see her again? i think he would have. especially by that point. so that's one change i'm like, okay, that's kind of interesting. i don't hate this.

so overall, theres multiple things i do like about it! and i do appreciate the creativity and effort that's gone into the project and it always makes me happy to see people passionate about greek mythology. i just think they've lost the plot a little. i feel like it's become a story about a Good man who continuously gets punished for being good until he caves to ruthlessness which like i said, is an interesting concept, but just not the story of the odyssey.

[nidhi-writes]

CHAPTER - III | BEAST OUT OF HIM

MASTERLIST

previous

Please be aware that this chapter contains scenes that explore mature themes 18+. Reader discretion is advised.

As the night wore on, Shiya could not sleep, her mind replaying the dream repeatedly. Every time she closed her eyes, she could feel Bhallaladeva's touch, the heat of his body pressed against hers, and the intensity of that moment when their lips collided. Also, the image of Shivudu being dead and how his corpse looked, this thought makes her feel guilty that her part of the brain is yearning for that monster's touch. It was maddening; her thoughts kept circling back to him, and a part of her—a dark, hidden part—almost wished he had gone further and taken her and shown her the things her mother had warned her about.

Her mother's words echoed in her mind, both a warning and a lesson. Sanga often spoke to Shiya about women's power, which could cause kingdoms to rise or fall and even kings to go to their knees for it. "There have been women in history," her mother had said, "who used that very power to obtain anything they desired and to bring emperors to their knees. It is a dangerous power and a tool. It can also keep your husband from straying and secure your place in his heart if correctly used."

Shiya had always listened, but she never truly understood the weight of those words until now. As she lay there, unable to shake the memory of Bhallaladeva's kiss, she wondered if she could use that power to her advantage. Bhallaladeva was a man of immense strength and ruthlessness, but he was also driven by desire—the desire for power, control, and, perhaps, for her.

Could she use that desire against him? Could she manipulate him just like he does to others? Could she make him believe that he was winning her over, only to turn the tables and secure her freedom and others? The thought was both thrilling and terrifying. If she succeeded, she could escape this nightmare, but if she failed, the consequences would be unimaginable.

Shiya's heart raced as she considered the possibilities. She would need to tread carefully to play the submissive captive while slowly weaving a web around Bhallaladeva. It would require every ounce of her strength, cunning, and resolve.

But what choice did she have? If she didn't act, she would remain a prisoner at the mercy of a man who could destroy her in more ways than one.

As the moon glows, Shiya makes up her mind. She will play this dangerous game, using the very power her mother had spoken of. She will become the woman who could bring a man of power to his knees if that's what it takes to reclaim her life and freedom.

She called for Bangara Amma, who arrived promptly, her expression curious yet respectful. 

"Yes, Dear", Bangara Amma replied to Shiya.

Shiya licked her lips as she requested what she needed. "Please bring me the best saree you ever have", knowing that Bhallaladeva had given orders for her to be granted anything she asked for—except for her freedom. Bangara Amma hesitated only briefly before nodding and leaving to fulfil the request.

When she returned, she brought a shimmering golden saree, its rich and luxurious fabric adorned with embroidery that caught the light. Shiya could tell at a glance that it was a garment fit for royalty. As Bangara Amma helped her drape the saree, Shiya's eyes stayed on the mirror, and her gaze filed with no emotion.

"Lower," she whispered just as Bangara Amma went to tie the saree. So Bangara Amma did that and tied it just low enough to accentuate her figure, particularly her bosom. The gold against her skin made her look like a goddess, the fabric clinging to her curves in an alluring and powerful way.

Shiya dismissed Bangara Amma once the saree was in place, giving her a polite but firm smile. "Please ask the King to come and meet me," she said, calm and composed. "There is something I wish to discuss with him."

Bangara Amma's eyes widened slightly at the request, but she quickly bowed and left the room to deliver the message. Shiya watched her go, her heart beating steadily as she prepared for the encounter. This was the first move in her plan, and it had to be executed perfectly.

As she waited for Bhallaladeva, Shiya walked to the balcony, the cool breeze brushing against her exposed skin. She needed to steady her nerves, to remind herself of her goal. This wasn't just about seduction—it was about survival and reclaiming her power. She would use every weapon, including the allure her mother had warned her about.

When Bhallaladeva entered the room a short time later, Shiya turned to face him, her expression serene but with a hint of vulnerability. She could see the surprise flicker in his eyes as he took in her appearance. The golden saree, the way it highlighted her body, and her confident yet slightly hesitant stance were designed to captivate and draw him in.

"You wished to see me, Shiya?" Bhallaladeva's voice was curious, with an undertone of suspicion, as if he was trying to figure out what game she was playing.

Shiya nodded, taking a slow, deliberate step towards him. "Yes, my King," she replied softly. 

"I realized that perhaps I had been... too resistant, too defiant. I thought it might be wise to speak openly with you to understand the situation I find myself in better."

Bhallaladeva's eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze lingering on her, trying to read her intentions. But Shiya held his gaze, her expression unyielding yet open, inviting him to believe she was finally submitting to him and ready to accept her fate.

"You look... different," he remarked, his eyes tracing the lines of her saree, the way it emphasized her figure. His eyes had a predatory gleam and a hint of admiration as if he saw her in a new light.

Shiya allowed a small smile to touch her lips, holding the same warmth and sincerity. 

"Perhaps it's time I stop fighting what cannot be changed," she said, her voice steady. "Perhaps it's time I embrace what is inevitable."

Bhallaladeva stepped closer; his interest piqued, his suspicion mingling with desire. "And what do you believe is inevitable, Shiya?"

She met his gaze, her eyes unwavering. "That I am yours, my King. That I belong to you, just as you have claimed."

The words hung in the air between them, charged with meaning. Shiya's heart raced, but she kept her composure, knowing that this was just the beginning of the dangerous game she had chosen to play. 

Bhallaladeva studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a slow, satisfied smile, he nodded. "Good," he said, his voice low and commanding. "Very good."

Shiya lowered her gaze, her demeanour shifting as she embraced her chosen role. The confident woman who had faced Bhallaladeva moments ago now seemed to wither into someone entirely different—submissive, almost defeated. She stepped closer to him, her eyes downcast and voice softer, carrying a tremor of fear and resignation.

"My King," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "I have come to accept that no help is coming for me. My brother... my family... they are not here. I am alone. And in my solitude, I have realized how merciful you have been, how you could have ended my life the moment I was brought here, yet you spared me."

She paused as if gathering her courage and lifted her gaze just enough to meet his eyes, her expression of gratitude mixed with a palpable sense of surrender. "For that, I am thankful. I know now that you hold all the power, and I... I am ready to accept whatever you wish to give or take from me. I no longer wish to fight."

Bhallaladeva's eyes narrowed as he studied her, the curiosity in his gaze growing sharper. He couldn't ignore the surge of blood rushing through him as he looked at her—the golden saree that clung to her every curve, the way her voice wavered with a mix of fear and submission, the subtle trembling of her lips. Every word she spoke seemed to stroke his ego, feeding the deep-seated desire for dominance that simmered within him.

A part of him remained suspicious, wondering if this sudden shift in her behaviour was genuine. But the sight of her standing before him, so seemingly fragile and at his mercy, was too intoxicating to resist. He felt the primal urge to claim her, to make her his, swelling within him, and the thrill of knowing she was willingly submitting to him made the temptation even stronger.

Shiya saw the flicker of desire in his eyes, the way his gaze lingered on her, and she knew her performance was having the intended effect. She had to keep him believing that she was broken and that she was his and his alone.

"My King," she continued, her voice trembling as she clasped her hands before her, "I am ready to be whatever you wish me to be. I will not resist. I have no strength left to fight, and I have no hope left to hold onto. All I have now... is you."

Bhallaladeva stepped closer to her, his gaze never leaving her face. He could feel the tension in the air, the power he wielded over her, and it fueled the dark satisfaction growing inside him. His hand reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face, his touch surprisingly gentle, but his eyes burned with something far more dangerous.

"You're finally seeing the truth, Shiya," he murmured, his voice low and filled with a twisted kind of warmth. "And I am glad you understand your place."

His words sent a shiver down Shiya's spine, but she kept her expression soft, her eyes filled with the same submissive gratitude she had shown before. She couldn't afford to slip now; she needed him to believe she had given in.

"I do, my King," she whispered, barely holding back the tears that threatened to spill over. "I see now that you are my only protector and hope. I am ready to serve you, to be whatever you want me to be. Please... just tell me what you wish of me."

Bhallaladeva's eyes darkened with desire as he took in her words. The sight of her so willingly submitting to him ignited a fire within him that he could barely control. He leaned closer, gripping her chin and tilting her face to meet his gaze. His eyes roamed over her features, taking in the vulnerability in her expression; her chest heaved with every breath, and the slight trembling of her lips.

"You are mine, Shiya," he said, his voice husky and needful. "And you will give me everything I want."

Shiya nodded, her heart pounding in her chest as she looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear and submission. She could feel his breath on her skin, the heat of his body so close to hers, and she knew she had him exactly where she wanted him. 

Shiya's heart pounded as she nodded, her voice trembling. "I am yours."

Bhallaldeva's hands were rough yet gentle as he reached for her, his touch igniting a fire within her that she had not anticipated. His fingers traced her skin, exploring her curves with a mix of reverence and possession. Shiya's resistance melted away as she felt the heat of his touch, her body responding to him despite her mind's efforts to stay detached.

As their lips met, the world around them seemed to vanish. The kiss was fierce and passionate, filled with a hunger that mirrored the tumultuous emotions raging within Shiya. She was swept away by the moment's intensity, losing herself in the warmth and strength of Bhallaldeva's embrace.

Their bodies pressed together, each movement a blend of desire and urgency. The silk of her golden saree slipped from her shoulders, pooling around them as Bhallaldeva guided her towards the lavish bed. 

'Please' she said, her lips quivering.

His smirk widened as he snorted and watched the quivering mess of a woman before him. She was trying to speak a proper word, but she could only let out a babble because of the action.

'Please, what?' He asked as he slowly traced his fingers down from her navel and slowly went up, just his knuckles brushing against her clothed nipple; she let out a faint moan, which made him chuckle. He enjoyed the reaction he could get from the beautiful flower sprawled in his bed.

His fingers continued to trace and softly yet tightly held her neck and raised her head; she gasped at his sudden action as her eyes widened; for a minute, she was scared that her cover would blow off, but just like that, he smashed his lips on to her making her whimper as both of their body mingled in heat.

His lips along her chin lightly bit her ear off ' You were saying?' He asked once again as he continued his action, which caused her to moan again and again, but her moan turned into a squick as he tightened his hold on her throat, causing her to stutter.

'I. ASKED. YOU. A. QUESTION!' he growled, which made her inner pool already wet just with his voice. She bit her lips and tried to speak up. 'I need you, Please,' she whispered, hoping he heard, which he did.

'What you need me for?' He grunted as his lips lowered and went to work on her neck. Just like that, he found her weak spot, causing her to arch her back, which made her breast brush up against his chest, causing a small moan to leave his mouth. Her lips turned upwards, enjoying that even if it was small, she did bring some reaction from him.

'Well?' He asked, biting her neck lightly, which would leave a mark.

'I need you to be inside me.' This time, she spoke up without any shyness; her eyes stayed on his and never left; he liked this boldness.

'Where?' He once again asked; this irritated her to the core, this man knew that he was torturing her to the core, so she took his other hand and shoved it between her thighs where her cunt lays dripping wet. 'There, my king,' She said and captured his lips as she bit them, drawing blood. Bhallaladeva is anything but romantic, but the girl in front of him, who is too young for him, lets a beast out of him, and he is not going back until he devours every drop of her.

"Well, well, Shiya," Bhalla sneered, his fingers trailing slowly down Shiya's bare arm. "I must say, your attempts at seduction are quite admirable. But let me tell you something, sweetheart. You've got a long way to go."

Shiya's eyes widened as Bhalla's hand grazed the fabric of her blouse. A sudden knot in the corner caught his attention, and without warning, he gave it a sharp tug. The delicate fabric of the blouse snapped, causing it to fall from Shiya's body.

Shiya's face was a mixture of shock and embarrassment as she instinctively crossed her arms over her chest. Bhalla chuckled darkly, relishing his power over her.

Bhalla's lips trailed down Shiya's neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses that excitedly made her shiver. His hands moved from her wrists to the curve of her hips, pulling her closer until there was barely any space left between them.

Shiya's breath hitched as Bhalla's mouth found its way to the sensitive skin just above her breasts. He licked and sucked at her nipples, eliciting gasps of pleasure from deep within her throat. Each touch sent waves of electricity coursing through her body, erasing any lingering doubts or hesitations.

Bhalla's lips trailed down fabric that barely concealed Shiya's core. With a teasing smile, he whispered into her ear, "You like that? You want me to take you right here?"

Shiya whimpered in response. She nodded eagerly, unable to form words as desire consumed her senses.

Without wasting another moment, Bhalla's hand slipped beneath the fabric and found its way to the heat between Shiya's thighs. She bit down on her lower lip, torn between wanting him to take her right then and there and wanting to feel every moment of anticipation.

Bhalla chuckled darkly, his fingers circling her clit. He knew exactly how to push Shiya's buttons, and he revelled in the power it gave him. His lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses that made her shiver with anticipation.

He paused for a moment, his hand moving slowly in circles around her sensitive core. Shiya squirmed beneath him, desperate for him to continue.

"Please," she pleaded softly, frustration lacing every syllable.

Bhalla's eyes gleamed with wicked amusement as he heard Shiya's plea. He smirked and slowly trailed his finger down her thigh, leaving a trail of wetness in its wake.

"Well, well," he murmured, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Seems like you're ready to be taken by your king, right?"

Shiya's breath hitched as Bhalla's words sent shivers down her spine. She couldn't deny the desire that pulsed through her veins, but there was still a flicker of hesitation in her eyes.

Without warning, Bhalla tore away the remaining remnants of Shiya's clothing, leaving her exposed and vulnerable before him. His gaze roamed over every inch of her naked body - the curves and contours that had captivated him from the moment he first laid eyes on her.

"Please," Shiya begged again, her voice filled with anticipation and uncertainty. "Please show me the pleasures that only you can give."

Bhalla's lips curled into a wicked grin as he heard Shiya's plea. He wasted no time in fulfilling her desire, his hands moving swiftly to spread her legs wide open. With a hunger that bordered on desperation, he buried his face between her thighs.

Shiya's breath hitched as Bhalla's tongue flicked against her sensitive flesh. A gasp escaped her lips as he plunged deep into her wetness, savouring the taste and texture of her arousal. His tongue danced across every inch of her cunt, exploring every fold and crevice with an expertise that left Shiya trembling in anticipation.

"Ahhh," she moaned, unable to contain herself any longer. "Bhall..Please..."

Bhalla chuckled darkly against her skin, his fingers curling around her hips possessively. He continued to work his magic enthusiastically, matching their growing passion. Each lick and suck sent waves of pleasure coursing through Shiya's body, driving her closer and closer to the edge.

Her heart thumped as her vision turned white, and she let out a scream of pleasure; Bhalla slowly raised and pressed his body against her, putting his hand beside her head to not put total weight on her body. His eyes take in her form, the way her chest heaved and gasps, the way. 

"Look at me," Bhalla whispered, causing Shiya to open her eyes and look at the man before her, who could easily break or make her.

"Are you ready?" He asked, making Shiya look at him. Was he asking for her consent?

She gulped down and nodded, which made Bhalla smile: "I need you to hear you verbally, my dear." This caused her to blush as she used her voice to speak out: "Yes, Please." Her answer made him smile.

Shiya's body trembled with anticipation as Bhalla slowly entered into her, filling her to the brim. A gasp and a moan escaped her lips, a mix of pain and pleasure that sent shivers down her spine. It was a reminder of the raw intensity they were about to experience.

Bhalla, sensing Shiya's reaction, smirked in satisfaction. He began to pick up the pace, his movements becoming more forceful and powerful. The pain subsided as pleasure surged through their bodies, tripling in intensity with each thrust.

Shiya clung onto Bhalla desperately, unable to contain herself any longer. Her nails dug into his back as she arched her body to meet his every movement. The room filled with the sounds of their skin slapping together, punctuated by their shared moans of ecstasy.

Bhalla's eyes locked onto Shiya's, a hunger burning within them that matched their growing passion. He relished in the sight of her writhing beneath him, lost in a world where only they existed.

But amidst their primal connection, a flicker of hesitation flashed across Bhalla's face. A momentary pause in his rhythm left Shiya wondering if he was experiencing a similar struggle within himself.

Sensing that they both were nearing the release, Bhalla swiftly shifted their position, pulling her onto his lap. The sensation of being surrounded by him sent shivers down her spine. She couldn't help but feel a surge of power coursing through her veins.

Slowly, Shiya straddled Bhalla's lap, positioning herself atop him as if she held all the cards. With deliberate movements, she slid down onto him inch by agonizing inch, eliciting moans from both of them.

Bhalla's grip tightened on Shiya's hips as he thrust upward, meeting each of her movements with a primal intensity that sent waves of pleasure coursing through their bodies. Their moans mingled in the air, an intoxicating symphony of lust and desire.

Shiya's body arched against Bhalla's as he continued to hit deeper in her cunt, filling her with his relentless thrusts. Their skin slapping together echoed through the trees, blending seamlessly with their desperate moans.

And just like that, Shiys' eyesight turned white as what was left of her was consumed by Bhalla, who moaned into her ears as she clunge down to him. Her thighs quivered, and her body shook as they filled each other with pleasure that no one could take away.

Shiya's mind raced, and amidst the heat of the moment, a fleeting thought crossed her mind—an escape. She had kept the sharp nail hidden in her hair, hoping it might be useful. She reached for it with every ounce of resolve she had left, her fingers trembling as she tried to draw it out from where it had been concealed.

Just as Bhallaldeva's hands were exploring her, Shiya managed to grasp the nail and, in a desperate move, aimed it at Bhallaldeva's side. She hoped to wound him, to create a chance for herself, but her plan was thwarted.

Bhallaldeva's reflexes were swift. As soon as he felt the shift in her intentions, he caught her wrist with a firm grip, his eyes flashing with surprise and amusement. With a decisive movement, he disarmed her, taking the nail from her hand and tossing it aside. His expression turned from intense passion to a smirk that revealed his dominance over the situation.

"What do you think you're doing, my little bird?" Bhallaldeva's voice was low and laced with mockery, though it had a dangerous edge.

Shiya's eyes widened with frustration and fear. Her plan had failed, and now she was left vulnerable and exposed. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and her face flushed with desire and defeat.

"Why?" she demanded, her voice cracking. "Why do you want me? What could you possibly gain from this?"

Bhallaldeva's gaze was intense, filled with a mixture of fascination and control. He pulled her closer, his body pressing against hers with a possessive force. "I want you because you are here," he replied, his voice a low rumble. "Because you are mine to have and to break."

As he spoke, he captured her lips in another searing kiss, his hands roaming her with renewed fervour. Shiya's attempts to resist or escape were futile against his strength and determination. She could only surrender to the overwhelming sensations that engulfed her, her mind reeling from the realization that her escape had slipped through her fingers.

The night continued in a whirlwind of passion and power, with Bhallaldeva asserting his dominance over Shiya. The intensity of their encounter reached a crescendo, leaving Shiya both physically and emotionally spent. Her earlier resolve had been shattered, and she found herself enveloped in Bhallaldeva's embrace, her plans and resistance lost in the heat of the moment.

As dawn approached, Shiya lay in Bhallaldeva's arms, her body aching and her spirit subdued. The sharp nail that had been her last hope now lay forgotten, and she was left to face the reality of her situation. Bhallaldeva's dominance was complete, and Shiya had given herself entirely to him, both in body and in the complex, troubled emotions that followed.

As the night wore on, Bhallaldeva's relentless passion showed no sign of abating. His dominance over Shiya was absolute, and their encounter continued into the early morning hours, each moment a testament to his control and power. Shiya, though physically exhausted and emotionally drained, had no choice but to surrender completely to his will.

The first light of dawn began to seep through the heavy curtains of the chamber, casting a dim glow over the room. Shiya lay dishevelled on the bed, her strength sapped by the prolonged ordeal. Her body ached, and her spirit was subdued as the events of the night replayed in her mind, leaving her with a deep sense of resignation.

Bhallaldeva, still consumed by the power and pleasure of the night, was momentarily interrupted by the arrival of his warriors. The alert sounded through the palace, and his expression shifted from satisfaction to concern. The warriors burst into the chamber, their urgency evident.

"My King, the forces of Baahubali have breached the outer defences," one of the warriors announced breathlessly. "The battle has begun."

Bhallaldeva's eyes narrowed, his focus immediately shifting from his recent conquest to the impending conflict. He looked down at Shiya, curled up on the bed, her eyes filled with pain and defeat. A flicker of something—perhaps a trace of regret—crossed his face, but his steely resolve quickly masked it.

Without another word, he rose from the bed, his imposing figure casting a shadow over Shiya. "Stay here," he commanded, his voice cold and authoritative. "Do not move."

Shiya, too weak to argue, could only watch as Bhallaldeva dressed in battle armour, preparing for the now unavoidable fight. He moved with a commanding presence, and his every action reminded him of his power and authority.

As Bhallaldeva exited the chamber, the door closed behind him, leaving Shiya alone once more. The distant sounds of battle began to filter through the walls, the clash of weapons and the shouts of warriors signalling the commencement of the conflict.

Shiya remained in the chamber, her thoughts a tumultuous mix of fear, despair, and a faint glimmer of hope. The night had left her deeply affected, but now, as the battle raged outside, she found herself trapped between her suffering and the impending chaos.

***

As Bhallaldeva lay on the battlefield, a twisted smirk marred his once fierce and defiant demeanour. The cruel smile remained on his lips even as the life drained from his eyes. "You may have defeated me," he rasped, "but I’ve already done what I intended. Your victory comes with a cost."

Baahubali's eyes narrowed with concern and suspicion as he approached his fallen foe. Before he could question further, Bhallaldeva's body went limp, his last breath escaping with a final, chilling smile.

With Bhallaldeva's demise, Baahubali's thoughts immediately turned to finding Shiya. He raced through the palace, his heart pounding with urgency. Upon reaching her chamber, he found her standing by the window, staring out with an expression of profound desolation.

As Baahubali's hand gently touched her shoulder, Shiya's control shattered. She turned into him and buried her face against his chest, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her sobs echoed the deep sorrow and relief she felt. Baahubali held her tightly, his own heart aching at the sight of her pain. Despite not being blood relatives, their bond was as strong as any sibling's.

Two month passes

After the chaos of the battle and the subsequent months of rebuilding the kingdom with justice and care, the day of Baahubali's coronation arrived. The grand ceremony marked the official transition of Mahismati into an era of renewal and hope. Baahubali stood proudly as the new king, fulfilling his father's vision for a just and prosperous rule.

Amidst the celebrations, Shiya watched her brother with pride and concern. As she observed Baahubali’s rise to power, a quiet fear lingered. She discreetly caressed her stomach, a subtle gesture that concealed a significant secret. The passion of that fateful night with Bhallaldeva had left her with more than just emotional scars; it had also left her pregnant.

The realization of this impending change weighed heavily on her. As the kingdom celebrated the dawn of a new era, Shiya faced an uncertain future of her own. Mahismati's legacy was poised to continue, and with the next generation, it seemed once again that the cousins of the great kingdom would have to fight for the throne.

THE END

Whew !!! I'm finally done with this series...and it's also my first time writing this much of explicit scenes...I hope I made it somewhat non cringe...thank you to everyone who read and liked it. I will see you guys with some other work very soon💜💜🙏

taglist: @mahi-wayy @ahamasmiyodhah @whippersnappersbookworm @harinishivaa @mayakimayahai

@jkdaddy01 @gloriouspurpose01 @whyishekinda @salaarfanindia

@aprofoundrickmaniac @toomanyfanficsbruh @willkatfanfromasia

[calxide]

⸻ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 | A MOUTHFUL (of love)

tighnari x gn!reader | 0.8k+ words ; profanities, no pronouns used for reader, mentions of food, tighnari is very goofy(/pos), lmk if there's more

As you and Tighnari are both stuck together, his stomach growls in hunger. Being tied up together, you're forced to come with him and watch him consume his food with delight as the crocodile inside your stomach dares to speak.

chained up masterlist ✧ RTLB :: tartaglia

"I'm sorry, but you'll have to come with me."

"What?"

So, you're here, stuck with somebody. Not just any somebody, but this someone you're stuck with is none other than the boy you've been crushing on for the past few weeks (who also happened to be your classmate for a few classes), Tighnari.

The Student Council of Teyvat International decided to put up a booth called "CHAINED UP." Now, don't let the name of the booth deceive you. You might think that this contains such outrageous activities, but this is where you are wrong; as part of a reputable organization, it is simply an innocent thing you have suggested to the council — to handcuff/tie two people together for the cost of 100 mora for 10 minutes.

It was unbeknownst to you at that moment that it would immediately backfire back right on you. Needless to say, you should've known that this would happen, considering that you are friends with such teasing fellows.

"Do you really have to drag me with you?" You asked with a polite tone.

Tighnari laughs as he intertwines your fingers with him, kissing the back of your hand to taunt you. "Of course, it is with great pleasure that I shall accompany the Student Council's Vice President for a good ten minutes."

"You're lucky you're cute," you murmured under your breath — to which the corner of his lips twisted up to form a cute, captivating smile.

"You wouldn't want to waste the person who registered our names' 100 mora," Tighnari said, paying for the dish he bought.

You grumbled, "Oh, you wish I did."

Tighnari laughed at your grimace. "Besides, our booth will be able to earn more money if I do that," you added—to which he disagreed, saying that it isn't a good investment. You don't spend your money, and you get to be stuck with him for ten minutes — a pretty good deal, to be honest.

He gestured for you to sit beside him, so you both won't have a hard time moving. You watched him indulge himself on the Mushroom Hodgepodge he bought, mouth-watering. You recalled that this was his favorite food — his beautiful eyes sparkled as he savored every bite he took.

Noticing your hungry glare, Tighnari stifled a chuckle as he offered you a spoonful. The aroma was definitely trying to get you to eat the food. You shook your head as you didn't want to give in to temptation.

"You cannot refuse my offer. It would be disrespectful to the cook," Tighnari gave you a smile that made you want to scrape it off his beautiful face.

"I know. But you bought that for yourself." Tighnari shook his head and sighed at your stubbornness.

"And I'm not really hungry."

But you are. And your stomach betrayed you as soon as you said those words. The grumbling of the crocodile existing in your stomach loudly echoed amid the noisy crowd.

Tighnari suppressed his laughter, humming in response to the loud growl. "Mhm. This Mushroom Hodgepodge is really good. I might need to buy another one to satisfy my hunger."

Without warning, you grabbed the spoon from his hand using your free hand and ate the delicious food. You don't know whether it's incredibly delectable or you're just hungry because you feel like you ascended to Celestia and met the Gods and Goddesses.

"See? Tasty, right?" You nodded at Tighnari's question, still munching on the food.

"Really, really good," your voice was muffled, making Tighnari laugh.

"Well, then, have some more."

He offered you the plate, but you had a hard time picking up the utensils with your free hand as it wasn't your dominant hand. Having noticed this, he took the spoon from you.

Tighnari did the airplane thing people do with kids, making you frown. "I am not a kid," you said with a frown.

Tighnari pretended to be thinking of something, "Should I do the... what's that called again? Bing... Bing Chilling?"

You shook your head, pretending to give it a thought, "I think it doesn't work well with foods that are not ice creams," you gave him a fake pout.

"Don't be such a pouty baby. You look like a duck," he teased.

"There's nothing wrong with ducks! They're cute."

"Like you."

You were flabbergasted. You could feel the tips of your ears burning — whether it's from the heat or whatever, you don't know.

"I hate you," you said, attempting to stand up.

Tighnari immediately pulled you down again beside him, "Oh, no, no, no, no. You can't do that. That would be painful for both of us."

"But you know what hurts more?" He continued.

"Yeah?"

"You not eating the food I offer you."

You opened your mouth to say something, only to close it again as Tighnari shoved a spoonful of the food inside your mouth.

"What the hell," you exclaimed after chewing the food.

Tighnari gave you a funny smile. "We could do this for the rest of the day."

"Oh?"

Tighnari nodded, "Mhm. I could feed you all day long. Or, even for a lifetime."

And so, you did.

NOTE ang ganda ko HAHAHA CHOS HII, i hope u enjoyed tighnari's one-shot T__T im not exactly glad on how it turned out but it is what it is! i love tighnari so much ksbfksnsodn i genuinely dont know if i give his character enough justice and im probably high rn bc it's nighttime... i was supposed to post this at an earlier time but got too busy :')) idk when im going to post the next one cause i'm busy with life 😢 and im just rambling atp so gbye

TAGLIST @annoyinglyboredpoet @bluebelony @kithewanderingme @reverse-iak @randomnatics @joantheunicorn5 @i-x4o @wlellsl @ireallylikehamsters

[justsomedumbstuff]

Buaah Nagitos backstory for the creature au is so sad what the heck... But it's a very interesting concept, all of the guys are super cool and the character designs are pretty :33 do you have any other backstories? For Alane or Nekomaru or other non drawn guys, like maybe Hiyoko or Ibuki (they're my faves hah)? The concept seems very cool!!

OHH! EVEN BETTER. I’ll talk about ALL of them. (At least what I have right now. Some of this might be subject to change later.)

I YAP under the line btw.

Hajime- Human.

He’s the only human in this crazy group and he feels rather out of place but everyone in the group loves this guy.

Chiaki- Ghoul.

One of the few undead characters in this and the only person who’s able to communicate with nagito when he’s not visible to other people. Perks of being kinda dead ig!

Nagito- Spirit.

After falling victim to a nasty plague, nagito’s spirit has wandered the castle he died in for years… how many? He’s still unsure about that.

Izuru- Gorgon.

After being cursed by his town’s goddess by openly defying her, he was cursed to be a Gorgon and stripped of his humanity. It’s been so long he doesn’t even remember what it was like to be human.

Imposter- Shapeshifter.

Never having a lasting home they bounce from place to place, changing forms each time to try to just find somewhere peaceful. Of course, humans aren’t all that accepting to things that are different.

Teruteru- Dwarf.

He grew up with his mama! I don’t have much info on him yet as I’ve only gotten to a few of the characters! But dw he still loves to cook :3

Mahiru- Aarokocra.

Where’s a better angle for a picture than up in the sky! She deserves pretty feathers…..

Hiyoko- Harpy.

Makes sense with how mean she can be but also with how captivating her movements are!

Peko- Living Doll.

Made for fuyuhiko to protect him and be a tool to him. He doesn’t like this. His parents ordered her to stay with him at all times.

Fuyuhiko- Half foot.

Small but very feisty! You’ll never see him without peko by his side, he acts annoyed about it but he cares for her a lot. He is real mad about how people view him as weak for being a half foot. He can take care of himself Dammit!

Mikan- Drider.

Driders are dark elves that were cursed by their goddess/god to have the lower half of a spider. Mikan’s goddess was feeling wrathful and even though she did everything right, followed every rule her goddess set in place, she was not loved by her goddess.

Ibuki- Satyr.

With her love for music and trouble it makes sense for her to be a satyr! She goes around the woods making anything she can find into an ‘instrument’ as well as picking up things and placing them in the bag she hauls around. Her ‘trinkets’.

Akane- Werewolf.

Very rowdy! She loves to roughhouse and play around and eat!! She travels with her ‘pack’, aka just with nekomaru, they travel together and just have fun! They aren’t too worried abt where they’re headed. As long as they’ve got each other they’re fine!

Nekomaru- Werewolf.

He’s loud! Very loud! And is good at handling Akane when she gets too rambunctious. They’re like siblings, they roughhouse, argue, get on each others nerves but at the end of the day they’re family that would do anything for one another.

Kazuichi- plant person??

The best way I can describe this. Is Venus McFlytrap from monster high. I have to work on him more LOL

Sonia- vampire.

After getting sick from the plague ravaging her kingdom, her parents take her to see a better doctor in another country. She isn’t sure how it all led to this. But the next thing she knew, she was awake. Covered in blood. Next to the bodies of her parents and the body of someone she didn’t recognize. Someone with sharp fangs and pale skin. She doesn’t know what fully happened, but she can only assume she played a role in her parents death. But no one will be able to tell her for sure.

Gundham- Half demon Half human.

Like I said previously, gundham was raised by his mother. His father was a demon, and definitely not there when he was growing up. His mother taught him to care for all creatures and is where he gets his love for animals.

[pjofancalledbelle]

Naked in Manhattan~ Piper Mclean x Reader

AN-Frist post. Before you judge I am dyslexic and British and goofy. So this wlw because Piper doesn't get enough love and theres only like two fanfics. SEND REQUESTS FOR ANY CHARTERS. Also im only on MOA so i dont know how Piper acted with her gf but I'll try. Sorry if it's too OC tell me and I'll try fix it. Also the girl is Percy's sister.

Warnings-kissing and cursing but pg13

(Reader) had invited Piper around to her apartment in Manhattan and they were snuggled under a blanket watching a musical version of a 2000's classic, MEAN GIRLS! "Isn't Regina Gorge like so hot." Piper whispered as she looked at (Reader) out of the corner of her eye. "Yeah totally, I mean she's a bitch, but Reneé Rap soooo hot it's unfunny." (Reader) agreed with a slight blush as she reached her hand into the bowl full of popcorn at the same time as Piper and gave her a nervous smile as their hands brushed. She swore she felt electric shock go through her body like when she jumped up behind Jason and he got nervous. Piper giggled a little as she looked at (Reader) with her kaleidoscope eyes that could make anyone captivated.

"So...you think Rennee Rap is hot? Does that mean you like girls?" Piper asked as she shoved popcorn into her mouth and chewed it. The movie was still playing in the background but neither of the girls was paying attention to it because they were too busy studying each other's faces in the dim light. "I...um don't know. I mean I've never kissed a girl so like maybe?" (Reader) said unsurely as she anxiously fiddled with the blanket and distracted herself by taking a sip of her coke,

Piper smiled a little at the answer and inched closer leaning in. "Well, I've never kissed a girl either so, like, not to make it awkward or anything but we could kiss." She said trying to come off more confident then she felt. What if she had just messed it all up? What if (Reader) got grossed out by the idea? No. Piper had to remind herself her mum was the goddess of love she had this in the bag.

(Reader) was pretty sure she was as red as a tomato now as she looked at Piper and licked her lip glossed lips as her eyes darted down to Piper's lips and she found herself nodding. "Yeah, I'd like that." She said breathily as she also leaned in.

Piper pressed their lips together gently with their lip glosses making the kiss sticky but ten times better. Sure, Piper had kissed Jason and that was good but this. Wow, this was just everything. Piper cupped (Reader)'s cheeks and pulled her in closer the with fireworks going off and she slipped her tongue in just as a door opened and light and giggling from the hallway spilled into the room.

"HOLLY SHIT! STOP KISSING MY SISTER!" Percy yelled as he stood in the doorway with Annabeth standing next to him staring at the pair in shock.

AN- Hoped you enjoyed this short piece. I don't know anything about kissing so that's why I didn't really expanded on that. REQUEST ARE OPEN for any poj character. feel free to give feedback. :)

[thats-h0w-th3-light-g3ts-in]

International

Women‘s Day 2024

— To my favorite girls in rock —

This international women’s day is for these two incredible ladies. Immensely talented, candidly beautiful, tremendously underrated. They were trailblazers in their profession. At a time where the rock & pop music scene was dominated by male only bands, such as The Beach Boys or The Beatles, and crowds were bowing to rock-gods such as, Jimmy Page or Roger Daltrey, Christine McVie and Stevie Nicks were right up there with them. Women, as anything else than pretty faces and background singers were scarce in 1970s leading bands. Among Grace Slick, Joan Jett, Ann and Nancy Wilson of Heart and of course ABBA‘s leading gals Agnetha and Frida, they were in good company but still leading ladies in rock bands were a rare breed.

Christine Anne Perfect had been in a band called Chicken Shack over in the old country when she married the bassist of Fleetwood Mac and finally joined his band in 1970. After their founding member and frontman had left the band (and in some ways also this universe), the rest of them, consisting of a rhythm section and two guitar players found themselves somewhat lost and in need of a fresh spark. The spark came in the shape of Christine (now McVie) a very talented keyboard player with a soulful, mellow voice who conveniently, had already been living with them, having spattered her talent all over the last album they’d made as an all male blues band. After a while the music scene in Great Britain had developed in a different direction as the Mac, so they decided to try their luck in the land of dreams — the United States. After initially being promised to be back home by christmas, Christine would stay with the band — abroad — for the next 28 years. She would be a driving force and function as the fierce and headstrong but at the same time caring and peacekeeping den mother of the group, captivating countless souls with her love drunken songs.

In 1975 the somewhat unlucky band that was Fleetwood Mac found themselves in need of personell once again. After all of their lead guitarists had either gone insane, joined a cult, were fired for infidelity or left to do their own thing, in particularly that order, the band anew, was missing a crucial part of their lineup leaving them with an uncertain future. Their luck seemed to have turned as a new guitarist was quickly found, only to discover that he came as a package — with a girl.

Stephanie Lynn Nicks was the grand daughter of an understated country singer who took little Stevie on stage when she was only five years old. Having grown up around music, writing songs since she was a teenager, she was trying to make it big with her boyfriend in the city of angels. Her dreamy lyrics and hoarse, rusty voice was a welcome contrast to Christine‘s neat and upbeat love songs and it was soon clear she would fit right in. Even after splitting with the very boyfriend that brought her into the band, she would stay on as the main focalizer and diligent contributor for decades to come.

Both of those women were in their own way unique and oh so contraire but still stuck together, having each others backs. Neither jealousy nor competition seemed to be able to break them apart. They were co-existing in the sometimes toxic but oh so vital eco-system that was Fleetwood Mac forming a symbioses, as friends, keeping each other sane and most importantly alive and kicking — kicking in the glass ceiling that was the male dominated scene of 70s music and thus paving the way for so many talented young girl-singers, songwriters and musicians to come.

Christine once casually stated in an interview upon being asked if she ever felt the got enough credit, that nobody ever really said, ‘thanks for groundbreaking‘, so here it is: Thank you, ladies. Thank you, Christine McVie, queen of the keys and Stevie Nicks, goddess of the stage, for groundbreaking, for being role models in many more ways than just your talent in music. Thanks for sticking up for each other, for lifting each other up instead of taking each other down, for showing us what true and honest sisterhood is all about. Thank you from the bottom of the heart of just another girl out there trying to make it.

[noforkingclue]

Hello! Can you write a Dark!Morpheus x reader where they tell the story of the most popular myth of how to sandman courted the primordial being of love (the reader) by inspiring artists to write songs,books and ballads in attempts to woo her in a sort of Persephone and hades sort of way if that makes sense .it work and they are seen as like THE couple and Morpheus is just head over heals worshipping the ground she walks on both then and now and reader obviously adore him as well.maybe they have a few kids?

So I focused more on the darker side of this request and I didn't include the bit about children. Hope you don't mind and enjoy the fic!

Title: A Story

Warnings: dark fic

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

Are you sitting comfortably?

Good.

Then let me begin my tale of the Lord of Dreams and the Goddess of Love.

A burning, passionate love story that has lasted longer than this world has been around. It wasn’t often that another being captured the Dream Lord’s attention and yet this Goddess had done just that. Her siblings and fellows Gods and Goddess had warned her about the power and danger of the Endless but she paid them no heed.

And that, my listeners, was to be her undoing.

So, I hear you ask, how did he manage to court the reclusive Goddess?

You see, the answer is quite simple- by inspiring the humans that she cared so much about.

Dreams of inspiration is what he gave to the humans. Poetry, books, paintings, plays, all of this he provided for the humans. To shower each other in declarations of love that they otherwise would not have said. They had the ideas but he provided them with the ways of putting them into words.

That’s how he got the attention of the Goddess.

How happy she was that her humans and how charmed by the Dream Lord despite the continuous warnings from those around her. Of course this didn’t go unnoticed by the humans. Myths and legends sprung up about the two of you. How the God of Dreams gifted human s with divine inspiration to court the one he loves the most. These were the myths that humans needed the most. In hard times these were the myths the humans turned to the most. All other relationships paled in comparison to theirs. You see, there was no drama or fighting between them. Just love.

Ah, I see your cynical smile and perhaps you’re right.

In fact, there is no ‘perhaps’ about it.

You see, these were stories created by human and-

Oh. I see you’ve already clocked it.

The Dream Lord inspired the humans who created the stories…

Yes, you’re correct, how do we know these stories are fact or fiction? But that’s the same with any myth isn’t it? The lines between what happened and what is made up is often blurred and that is the case with this. Humans are romantics are heart.

The truth is, yes the Dream Lord did inspire humans and that did captivate the Love Goddess. However, the Dream Lord asked too much of the little Goddess. He wanted her to reside in the Dreaming with him. To leave her family and become completely his. To never walk among the humans again. To have his heirs and to never mention her old life outside the Dreaming.

And she didn’t bend to his commands.

You ok? Oh, you don’t like how this story is turning out? I’m afraid things rarely turn out how people want them to.

Now, there’s something else you should know about the Dream Lord. It isn’t just dreams that he controls.

It’s also nightmares.

At her refusal the human were plagued with horrific nightmares. The Endless are older and more powerful than the Gods, even the ancient ones. The more the Goddess refused his affections the worse the nightmares became. Until she agreed to meet, to relieve the humans pain and suffering at the hands of the one she thought she could trust.

But when it came time to meet she couldn’t face him. The trust that had been built up had long since gone. So she did the only thing she thought she could do.

She ran.

She disappeared from existence. None of the other Gods or the Endless knew where she had gone or if they did they didn’t let the Dream Lord know. The Dream Lord searched endlessly for his little Goddess but he couldn’t find her. He even couldn’t find her dreams, the mind he used to enjoy spending so much time in.

Which brings us up to now.

The Dream Lord has escape the prison where he was held for one hundred years. With all that time he’s done quite a bit of think and from what I hear he’s determined to find his Goddess. This time, nothing is going to stand in his way.

Hmm?

What’s that?

What does this Goddess look like?

Heh.

My dear, just look in a mirror and you shall see. Surely you don’t think of me as stupid?

Pleasant dreams and good luck.

[smilesrobotlover]

Whumtpober day 11- captivity, no one will ever find you

Another king of the Gerudo fic, kind of. It’s more about Ammon’s backstory which, if you know, you know.

Warning for kidnapping, drugging, and emotional distress.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on Cherry, move!”

Ammon smacked the horse’s behind gently, but she didn’t budge. He grumbled and tried to pull on the reins, but she remained stubborn. They were picking apples from the forests in Hyrule field, which was tedious and annoying, especially since Cherry, who carried the apples, refused to listen to him.

“Darn it Cherry. Why don’t you ever work with me girl?”

Ammon heard a chuckle from behind him and he turned to see his older brother Georgie walking towards him.

“Why can’t you get her to move? She likes you more anyways!” Ammon complained, and Georgie shook his head.

“Ammon, when I move to Hateno village, you need to learn how to control her yourself.”

Ammon grumbled again, glaring at the pink horse in front of him. Georgie shook his head and walked over to him, making clicking noises with his mouth, which got Cherry’s attention. He grabbed the reins from Ammon and gently led her down the path, with Ammon watching.

“How do you do that?” He asked as they began walking again.

Georgie gave Cherry some soothing words of affirmation before answering Ammon. “You’re too hard on her, Ammon. She— really all horses— respond best to rewarding. If you do nothing but yell at her, she’ll only get more upset.”

Ammon sighed. “But she never listens to me, why would I reward her for doing nothing?”

“Look for the correct things she does. Take your time to soothe her. It’s the only way she’ll know how you feel. If you’re upset with her disobeying you, she’ll know when you don’t reward her.”

Ammon sighed and gave Cherry a few pats on the neck.

“I think you’re just a natural at this, Georgie.”

His brother chuckled. “It just takes time and patience. You’ll get it.”

“Well, I have to. I doubt mother and father will want to take care of her.”

“True, and they’ll just force you to do it anyway. Might as well get on her good side while I’m here.” Georgie wandered over to Ammon and shoved something in his hands. “These help to get on her good side,” he said with a wink before continuing down the path. Ammon looked at what was in his hands and smiled. Five sugar cubes rested in his hands, and he pocketed them, ready to use them the next time Cherry decided to act up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Good goddesses, this errand is taking forever,” Ammon complained.

“Good goddesses you sure do complain a lot,” Georgie rebutted. Ammon frowned. “What? You do!”

“I don’t complain that much.”

“Ammon you’re now seventeen, for mother’s sake, try to act like it.”

Ammon scoffed. “How are seventeen year olds supposed to act anyways? I met someone older than me who acted like a child, I think that the way we act is not connected with age—“

“Ammon, shush!”

Ammon stopped and narrowed his eyes at Georgie. He had an intense expression on his face as he stood there frozen. Ammon frowned and walked over to him.

“What’s wrong?”

Georgie didn’t reply, but Ammon heard a strange sizzling sound, followed by laughter. He turned to the sound but Georgie grabbed his arm.

“We need to move, NOW!”

Ammon nearly yelped as he was shoved harshly, and he started running, not understanding what they were running from. Cherry was startled at the sudden intense running, but she followed closely, galloping close to the two brothers. Ammon looked behind him and saw Georgie behind the both of them, and that’s when he also saw a group of red men chasing them.

Oh goddesses those were the yiga.

Panic shot through Ammon and he almost stumbled from his legs nearly freezing up.

Goddesses they were going to die. They were going to die they were going to die.

Ammon heard a sizzling sound in front of him, and he skidded to a stop when a yiga member teleported right in front of him. Georgie nearly rammed into Ammon with the sudden stop, and he frantically looked behind him. They were surrounded.

“G-Georgie?” Ammon stuttered, and the yiga stepped closer, causing Cherry to fuss.

“Well well well, what do we have here?” The yiga in front of them walked closer, causing Ammon to back up right into Georgie. “A couple of rats alone in the woods, eh?”

“What do you want from us?” Georgie said firmly, and he put a hand on Ammon’s shoulder to keep him from shaking.

“Oh, nothing much, you might have something valuable to us.”

“What? Rupees? Apples?”

Ammon looked at Cherry, worried that they wanted Georgie’s horse, but the yiga waved his hand away.

“Rupees are tempting, but we don’t need those.”

Georgie growled and wrapped his arm around Ammon and grabbed Cherry’s reins.

“You’re not taking my horse.”

The yiga member laughed. “That horse looks to be more trouble than what it's worth,” he walked closer, and Ammon felt Georgie’s arm tighten. “No we don’t want your horse, or your rupees, or—eugh— apples. We want you.”

Ammon heard a popping sound and he was kicked in the head, causing him to fall out of Georgie’s grip. He landed on the ground with a painful thud, and someone grabbed his hair, dragging him across the dead leaves and sharp sticks. Ammon flailed his arms and legs around and broke free from the Yiga dragging him, but he was quickly pinned to the ground with his arms underneath the yiga’s legs. Ammon struggled under the weight but he wasn’t strong enough.

“AMMON!” He heard Georgie yell out, and Ammon watched as he was swarmed with the cultists. The yiga on top of him shoved a rag on his face, and Ammon gasped involuntarily, breathing in a sweet smell on the rag. He tried to throw his face out of the rag, but unconsciousness began to overcome him, and the last thing he heard before fainting was the laughter of the yiga.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ammon groaned as he began to wake up, and he found himself pressed up against someone. He flinched and pushed himself away and his back hit something harshly. He groaned in pain and the person he was close to groaned as well.

“Looks like the little rat is awake.”

Ammon looked up and realized that he was in a small cage with his hand cuffed to the floor. Yiga clan members stared at him from beyond the bars, and Ammon’s chest constricted with fear. He looked at the person next to him and recognized Georgie, who seemed to still be unconscious. Ammon leaned over his brother, and worriedly eyed his bloody head. He growled and glared up at the yiga who’s red eye symbol stared back at him menacingly, and the anger was quickly replaced with fear.

“Wh-what do you want from us?” Ammon stuttered, holding his brother closer to him. The yiga laughed at him mockingly, which made Ammon angry again. “My parents will send someone for us! You can’t keep us here forever!”

The yiga roared with laughter, and one leaned against the bars.

“Listen here you little rat, they can send a search party for you, they can send an entire army, but no one will ever find you.”

The yiga member at the bars began laughing maliciously, and the group left Ammon alone with his brother. Ammon sat there in silence, trying to comprehend everything that happened to him and Georgie. They were prisoners to the dangerous cult of the Yiga, he had no idea where they were, and he doubted that his parents would have a clue. They were all over the different forests in Hyrule field, how would they be able to pinpoint where exactly they were taken? Ammon gasped when he remembered their horse. Was Cherry ok? Georgie would never forgive himself if his beloved horse was hurt because of the yiga. And that horse was now going to be Ammon’s responsibility, he had to care about her as much as Georgie now.

If they ever make it out alive.

Ammon whimpered and curled up next to Georgie, fear clutching his heart.

They were never going to make it out alive.

Georgie stirred and opened his eyes to see Ammon next to him. He seemed confused at first, but realization hit him, and he grabbed Ammon, pulling him close.

“Ammon, are you ok? Are you hurt?”

Ammon buried his face in Georgie’s chest. “I-I’m not hurt but— Georgie we—“ Ammon broke down in sobs. They were never going home again, they were probably going to suffer for the rest of their lives. Ammon was never going to hear mother’s laughter again, or father’s off-key singing. He was never going to feel the rain again, or the feeling of escaping the busy castle town. He cried, feeling like he wasted his short life away, and his brother only held him closely.

“We’re never getting out of this,” Ammon cried, “we’re never going home!”

Georgie stroked his hair, though he didn’t make a sound, Ammon knew he was just as scared.

“We’re gonna get out of this, Ammon,” Georgie said softly after a long moment of Ammon crying. “We’re gonna get home. Just you wait brother.” Georgie hugged Ammon tightly, and the two held each other in the small cage.