#and i must face my demons and make yet another apartment place
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landgraabbed · 3 months ago
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i really should start working on my downtown as much as that scares me dsdsdjfsjdsd there's a lot i'd really like to make for [redacted]'s post-[redacted] rebound djsjdjdsdf
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r0-boat · 3 months ago
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Lavender Hair
Whb!Solomon x Demon!Reader
I cannot do porn with plot on this one😭 to save my life so we are just fucking him. Which sucks because I really wanted to write him being charismatic aaa
I had no idea what to call this I just called it that because his hair is very nice and I'd like to run my hands through it and braid it.
Cw: Solomon yoinking your V card, hair pulling, some switchiness, oral, fingering.
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When his tip catches against your opening, your heart stops as reality sinks in.
You can see why devils like Solomon.
With his hair spread into pools of lavender all over the sheets, his eyes half-lit and full of mystery staring up at you, his gentle yet firm touch as he holds you in place and rolls his hips up into yours. You feel his bulge grind against your opening. There is no penetration yet; just enjoying the friction.
He was going to be inside you. And you were scared.
Solomon must have noticed because he then sat up a little bit. His voice was gentle and husky. "Is something wrong, love?"
"no, I mean... I just haven't done this before." You admitted, your face turning red at the sheer irony that you, a devil, had never had sex before.
Solomon, across is your cheek. "Oh love, you should have told me." He takes you in his arms as he lays you onto the mattress before crawling on top of you.
"Here, let me take over; I promise I'll be gentle."
He purrs. You feel his lips delicately press against your neck, going down his hand, gentle yet possessive, to feel and trace every part of your body.
"You're so radiant. I feel so lucky to have you in my arms," He whispers in a tickly ear. He chuckles at your whimpering; He loves what his words do to you and what he does to you. He hums, pushing your thighs apart. Tail, out of habit, wraps around his arms. He smiles when he feels it against his skin, gently feels it against his fingers, touching his lips and kissing the arrow-shaped tip.
"Are you comfortable, my dear?" Solomon coos as he shifts his body, leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach till you feel his tongue prod you open. Your whole body shivers, your fingers going through his hair, wanting to grab onto something, your heart pounding in your chest. Solomon can sense your nervousness
"I'm going to worship you now. It's okay, I'll go slowly." You felt his tongue lazily lick your entrance before working. You opened each lick, getting deeper and deeper.
Your eyes screenshot as the grip on his hair grows tighter. That lavender main feels soft in your palm. You can feel the beads and his braids as you clench your fist.
As Solomon's movements become rougher and faster, You lose control of your body, giving him a harsh tug, You heard the soft clanks and jingling of the many trinkets in his hair. He let out a sharp inhale and a moan, making you realize what you did.
"Solomon, I'm sorry... I didn't mean-"You whimper and apologize. Solomon stops and looks up at you, those vacant eyes filled with lust and hunger. "Don't be sorry, please tug me as though you are my master."His husky voice, growling such much filth befitting of a demon, made you gasp as he dived back into you once more. His saliva coats your inner walls as it threatens to eat you alive.
You felt something bubble inside you, something foreign, increasing in intensity. Your thighs shake and squeeze around his head, but Solomon does not let that stop him. His fingernails dig into your hips as he forces his mouth, grinding his face against your body.
When he pulls away his tongue out, he switches, putting his mouth around you. You feel a finger slowly push inside you. This feeling is different than his tongue as he stretches you more.
"I'm going to add another finger. Be good to me and take it, please." Another husky whisper as you felt another finger stretch you.
That feeling bubbling in your core gets hotter and hotter, and Solomon strokes these flames, His fingers and his tongue moving faster and faster. He grows, seeing you arch your back.
Something about seeing someone orgasm for the first time made his heart race and his cock throb. And to be the one too give you that pleasure was a feeling greater than just mere sexual pleasure.
After you coat his fingers, he licks them clean before crawling back on top of you, wrapping His arms around you. "Was that good, my dear?" His cock throbs as pre cum drift down his shaft.
"It was." You purr feeling the aftershock of your first orgasm.
Solomon smiles. "Good I'm glad I could make you feel the same way you make me feel." Your heart throbbed at that comment He always had a way with words.
But, You felt his cock straining against you. "Solomon you haven't came."
You heard his muffled hum against your shoulder his hand idly stroking your side and your stomach. "It does not matter the pleasure I get from serving you is all I need."
He always knew just what to say but you really wanted him to feel good too. After he made you feel so good he felt a little more confident, and you're aching to know what it would feel like to have a cock inside you, his cock inside you.
"I want to be inside you; I want nothing more than to be inside you." More dirty filth from that melodic voice.
You turn over to him, his eyes grow wider as your hands strays Your fingers ghosting over his shaft' He could feel his cock twitch aching for more of you. "Please Solomon I want more I'm ready."
By the Kings, You always knew just what to say to drive him crazy. His breath shakes, with no emotion in those eyes and an unreadable face. You mistook it for hesitation until he pressed you onto your back once again, stroking his cock and playing with your opening, preparing himself to go inside.
Even now, he tries to comfort you, holding you as closely as possible, easing his way inside. You're tight virgin walls, even while prepped, still squeezed him generously. Solomon did not hide as pleasure, his face contorting, letting out noise that would make any demon blush and squirm.
A foreign feeling of being filled was painful yet strangely addicting. He stays inside you to the health, waiting for you to adjust to his size. That's stretching pain, fading into burning pleasure. You felt his breath shake against your ear as you clenched again. Your hands and fingers tangled in his lavender-colored hair. His words echo in your mind.
'tug me as though you are my master.'
You pulled at a part of his hair, telling him to move. Solomon lets out a loud whimper as he begins to buck his hips.
With an arm for your head to rest on and his other hand grasping into the sheets, He bucks hard, The slapping against his skin becoming louder and louder, but all you could hear was his and your moans.
That carefulness and softness to the two of you felt for each other was all long gone, that's the two of you fuck like animals.
Balls slapping against you, each thrust going all the way inside, each thrust rhythmic and almost calculated as he hits a foreign spot inside you that makes you suck in breath and arch. He starts to hit that spot over and over. "Right there? Is that the spot, my dear? Is that your spot, love?" if it weren't for the fact he was fucking you into the mattress, you would punish him.
Part of him wanted to flip you over and take complete control, to wrapping one of his muscular arms around your throat and drilling you from behind.
But you are already getting close, and the way you squeeze around his cock, I feel like he is going to come hard, empty his balls deep inside you, and flood your insides.
His rhythmic movements became more and more erratic, your hand abandoning his hair as your nails dug into his back, wrapping your legs around him.
"I'm cumming! Solomon!"You squeal, and Solomon coos, "I know, I know, beloved, you're milking me! I'm going to flood you full!"
He fucks through his orgasm drilling his cum deeper inside riding out both of your orgasms.
He collapses on top of you. He already has his arms around you, peppering your face with kisses.
"That was amazing, you are amazing, you're good, So good." You gave him a dreamy smile. You didn't have as much stamina as most demons, so you were already drained from two orgasms; you idly combed your fingers through his soft lavender mane, drifting to sleep in his arms.
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yesihaveaobsession · 5 months ago
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The Proposal
Alastor x female reader
Summary: Alastor asks you to be his fake wife for an overlord banquet to get Vox and others off his back for the night.
A/N- I love the playful dynamic between the reader (you) and him, ENOY!
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Alastor leaned against the doorframe of your apartment; his signature grin plastered across his face. His usual static filled the air, adding a sense of anticipation. Hearing him, you didn’t even have to look behind you from where you were in the kitchen washing dishes.
“Alastor, what brings you here so late?” you asked, grabbing the rag on the counter and starting to dry a mug before finally facing him. You were used to his odd visits, but this one felt… different.
“Well, my dear,” he began, his tone smooth as velvet, “I find myself in need of a favor—a rather unusual one at that.” Suddenly, you felt a pang of excitement mixed with nervousness. You tilted your head, placed down the mug you had been drying, and grabbed another one before looking back at him.
“What kind of favor?” Alastor pushed himself off the doorframe and strolled further into the room, his hands clasped behind his back. He stopped in front of you and adjusted his bowtie, his grin widening.
“I have a rather… intriguing proposal for you, my dear. You see, there’s an Overlord banquet tonight, and I find myself in need of a companion—more specifically, a wife.”
Your eyes widened in surprise, a hint of curiosity lacing your tone. “A wife? Alastor, what are you getting at?”
Alastor chuckled, a rich, almost musical sound. “It’s all in good fun, I assure you! Certain unsavory characters—Vox, to name one—have been pressing matters that I’d rather not entertain. What better way to get them off my back than by showing up with a charming, devoted wife on my arm?”
You blinked, trying to process what he was saying. Alastor, THE Radio Demon, was asking you to be his fake wife for the evening? You must be hallucinating. “So… you want me to pretend to be your wife for the evening?”
“Precisely!” Alastor nodded, clearly pleased that you were catching on. “I knew you’d understand! Of course, it’s only for the night. Just enough to make Vox burn with jealousy and to ward off any other unwanted attention.”
You stared at him as you finished the dishes and leaned against the countertop. “Alastor, I’m flattered, but… why me? Surely there are plenty of other demons who’d be willing to help.”
“Because, my dear, you’re the only one I trust with this. You’re clever, quick on your feet, and you’ve got that certain… je ne sais quoi that would make the role convincing.”
You hesitated for a moment, but the thought of being able to mess with Vox and the others—and to help Alastor—was too tempting to resist. Plus, you did enjoy spending time with him, even in such unusual circumstances.
“Alright, Alastor,” you finally agreed with a smile. “I’ll be your fake wife for the night.”
His eyes sparkled with delight. “Splendid! I knew I could count on you. I’ll pick you up in an hour—wear something that screams ‘radiant yet untouchable.’” You nodded and texted your friend to help you since you weren’t good at dressing up.
“See you later, mon cher.” In the blink of an eye, Alastor disappeared. You had your hair down and wore a long, elegant dress. True to Alastor’s word, you found yourself on his arm as you entered the grand hall where the banquet was being held. The hall was opulently decorated, with shimmering chandeliers and tables laden with exquisite delicacies. You had to admit, you felt like a true queen. You could already hear whispers and feel eyes on you, spreading like wildfire.
In particular, everyone's reaction was priceless, including Vox; the moment they saw you, the beautiful lady with Alastor. You were really beautiful and Vox couldn't believe it. As the night went on, you found yourself slipping into the role, playing the part of the Radio Demon’s doting wife. Alastor, ever the showman, played along flawlessly.
He placed his claw on your lower back, and to really play the part, he wrapped an arm around your hip to make it convincing. As the master of appearances, he knew that small gestures would make it more believable. You placed a hand on his chest. A tall overlord approached the two of you, curiosity piqued.
“So, how did you two meet?” the demon asked, and Alastor looked over at you with a wide grin. You could feel Alastor's gaze on you, his arm still firmly around your hip, but he didn't miss a beat. Before he had time to answer, you quickly stepped in.
The night honestly went great. You could tell Alastor was happy. He looked over at Vox a few times, drew you closer, and had a smirk on his face before looking over at you. “Oh, it’s quite the story,” you began, your tone light and playful. “We actually met by chance at a small, secluded jazz club in the heart of Hell. I was there on a whim, just enjoying the music, when Alastor walked in, completely entranced by the melody.”
You glanced up at Alastor, who raised an eyebrow, intrigued and happy with your quick thinking. Silently encouraging you to continue the little white lie.
“I was sitting at the bar, lost in the rhythm, when suddenly, the music stopped. I looked up to see Alastor taking the stage. He began playing a hauntingly beautiful tune on the piano, and I was captivated. After he finished, he made his way over to me, and we struck up a conversation about our mutual love for music.”
You leaned into Alastor slightly, playing the part perfectly. “From that moment on, we were inseparable. Our love for music brought us together, and the rest, as they say, is history.”
The demon raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "How romantic," the demon said, continuing, "It sounds like something out of a novel."
Alastor let out a rich and warm laugh. “Indeed,” he added smoothly, his grip on your waist tightening just a fraction, “and as they say, reality is often stranger than fiction.” The demon gave a polite nod and excused themselves, leaving the two of you alone. You suddenly felt a small sense of pride. Alastor leaned in and spoke softly, “A jazz club, hmm? You certainly have a flair for the dramatic, my dear.”
You grinned, "Well, I had to come up with something believable. After all, you’re quite the showman yourself.”
Alastor’s grin widened. “I knew I chose wisely. You’re a natural at this, my dear.”
The night came to an end after that, and Alastor knew he had enjoyed one of the best nights of his whole life. He led you outside, the cool breeze hitting you both as you stepped into the night. He turned to look at you with a smile.
"Thank you, Alastor." You smiled, "It was fun messing with the TV head." You both let out a chuckle; it was the most fun he had in quite a while, and he was glad he got to do it with you.
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thevanillerose · 5 months ago
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TRAINEE | TOKITO x READER | DEMON SLAYER
~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators.
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He was soft faced…
Eyes a gentle teal, skin like porcelain. Delicate and demure like a doll, almost feminine at first glance. Tokito.
When you first heard you’d be training with the Mist Hashira, you honestly weren’t worried. You felt no concern, figuring (naïvely) that he always carried the same attitude, and as such…would he not be tender with you?
What you didn’t expect was how his personality could do such a 180, that when he was a teacher, he wasn’t really Tokito anymore.
“In a real battle, you won’t just be getting bruises. You’ll be getting sliced and torn apart. You won’t just be aching the next day. You’ll be dead.”
His stern tone, so different from what you were used to, echoed in the training room, all ten of you standing to attention as he paced back and forth.
“At this rate, anyway. From what I can see, not one of you is prepared for a real fight.”
You were standing furthest at the end of all the others. Your stance was tense, and your head was low. You found it a little hard even just to look up at him whenever he passed by, as if meeting his gaze would somehow double down on your nerves.
“All of you, need improvement…”
His black-socked feet padded down the extent of the room until they had reached your position, and he stood before you, giving you a full view of just how that once sweet, sparkling gaze had shifted. Now it looked coldly focused.
“That includes you, [Y/N].”
The training session proceeded. Just as you now expected, he was ruthless with every contender. Each harsh smack of his wooden sword against flesh was enough to make you flinch, and as he worked his way down the line, picking out each person to spar, your sense of dread grew and grew.
He actually made some of them cry. You worried you’d do the same, and he’d think of you as a weakling from then on. Though perhaps it was fair to say he already did…
“[Y/N]. Your turn.”
Slowly raising your head, you met that chilly gaze again and swallowed nervously, before nodding and walking forward with stiff limbs. You positioned yourself before him, holding your own weapon before you, unable to hide how nervous you were.
He saw it. He saw the way you were quivering, trembling, but still, made no comment. He only signaled for the fight to begin.
The two of you circled around each other warily, staring at one another, though compared to his more serene, confident expression, you must have looked like some frazzled little field mouse. 
I have to prove myself!
A little too hastily, you attempted to strike him. However, with a sharp CLACK! he easily parried, then prepared his counter attack. The wooden sword cut through the air towards you with such smoothness it almost seemed like a real blade, and you squinted, freezing in place, bracing yourself for the pain that was surely coming-
…Yet it was only a gust.
A small puff of air, as Tokito deliberately stopped the sword from touching your neck mere millimeters away. Had he not, you’d have been sent crumbling to the ground.
Shaking, a bit bewildered, you opened your eyes and looked at him again. He may have stopped himself from hitting you, but that didn’t change how stern he still looked now. 
“So. [Y/N]. What do you think of your own performance?”
The rhetorical question he posed had you utterly on edge. You knew what the answer was. ‘Poor’. You already knew, it hadn’t been good enough. 
It hadn’t been good enough…
“Disappointing, overall. Tomorrow we’re going to have to up the ante I guess.” Tokito uttered in disappointment, and dismissed the group. Only, as you were filing out after the others, also about to leave, he put his arm out and stopped you.
“Not you, [Y/N].” he said, waving you back a few steps, “You and I need to do some extra training.”
Looking over at him sheepishly, a part of you wanted to plead with him not to do this. You could train on your own time, right? You’d had enough humiliation for one day. 
However, he wasn’t having it. And as you were guided to the center of the room, you soon had one of the swords thrust into your grip again, Tokito looking across at you expectantly.
“Now. We’re going to spar until you get this right.”
This time around, you didn’t try going for him first. That hadn’t worked out so well previously, after all. But he still came at you with a quick attack and you, again, couldn’t avoid it in time. Moments before the sword hit you though, you swore you saw a flash of worry in his eyes. But it was snuffed out as quickly as you were smacked, and you doubled over with pain, clutching your left side.
“...I know it hurts, [Y/N].” he uttered, “But it’s going to hurt far worse when it’s an actual weapon.”
“I-I know–” you grunted, a little tearfully, but pulled yourself together as best as you could and straightened up again. 
Every time you did this, every time you tried to face him head on, bravely, he would counter with a strike that left another welt or bruise on your body. Finally, it got to the point where he’d left you too winded to stand properly, and his frustration finally showed, his teeth grit as he tossed his sword aside and stepped right up to you.
“[Y/N]! Why even bother with Hashira training if you’re never going to get it right! It’s like you’re not listening to any of the advice I give you!”
You had still been doubled over, holding yourself while he snapped at you. But you slowly, a little wearily, raised your head and looked up at him, sniffing. Tears that you had been fighting hard to bite back earlier were now lingering around the edges of your eyes.
Tokito was startled. His stony, disgruntled expression wobbled into something more emotionally raw. The worry was back, and he was finding it hard to hide too.
“I’m sorry…I know I’m weak, and I’m useless. I know I should have never signed up for this! It’s just…” you winced, and gripped your side a little tighter, “...Demons killed my sister. If I can’t avenge her then there’s no point for me to keep on living…”
Hot, salty trickles streamed down your cheeks as you let out a little sob, shaking your head, “I don’t want to give up but…I know I…I know I can’t do this!”
There was a moment of tense silence between you two, a pregnant pause during which you were too afraid to look at him, too afraid to see that cold expression again. Yet, when you finally braved it, you were shocked by what you saw.
He was looking at you sadly. Guiltily. His visage was soft and tender once more, his ocean eyes wide and glimmering like they were on the verge of crying too.
And he finally spoke.
“[Y/N]...do you know why I’m trying so hard with you? Why I’m pushing you this much, why I’m being so serious about it?”
Gazing up at him, a little lost, you shook your head slowly and quietly. In return, his lips broke into a gentle smile, and his slender hand met your shoulder with a soft, comforting touch.
“It’s because I know how much that means to you. I know you don’t want to give up. For your sister’s sake…”
To your surprise, his hand slid up to your cheek, the pad of his thumb gently brushing away the tears upon it.
“But…you should also do it for your own sake. Prove it to yourself. You aren’t as weak as you think you are.”
As his hand smoothly pulled back again, it graced a few strands of your hair, tugging them gently and letting them slip between his fingers smoothly. You felt a heat in your cheeks, a tiny flush spreading there, covering the red marks and bruises that had been left.
“Do you…really think that?”
You asked him innocently. He smiled warmly.
“Yes, [Y/N]. I do.”
Like my writing? I can write for you! Check out my WRITING COMMISSIONS! LIMITED TIME SALE: 20% OFF ALL COMMISSIONS UNTIL THE 31ST OF AUGUST! ♡
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eldritch-spouse · 2 years ago
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[Part 4 of Gifted. Fem reader.]
Previous poll winner: " I think I'll... Thank the chef, yes. " (37.1%)
TW: Violence; Descriptions of cannibalism; Slight gore; Knife play; Extremely dubious consent.
New choice! [VOTE]
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" I think I'll... Thank the chef, yes. "
Do you really have a choice anyway?
You recall him, his voice mostly. A southern drawl that sounded almost goofy, but imposing. Which is fitting, you suppose, he's an intimidating cinder block of a monster. A mushroom monster, you've seen one or two of those before, they're generally quite pretty in your opinion. The chef in particular struck you, the dotted patterns on his arms glowing faintly in the cavernous dark of Sybastian's mouth when he reached in for you.
In truth, you're not too sure how to feel about him. And that insecurity manifests when you purse your lips, possibly regretting your cooperation regarding these two's lascivious suggestions.
" My my, she really is tame. " Vesper fans himself. " Oh how I regret handing her over! You and I would have had so much fun back in Lust, honey. "
You shudder, believing every word he says. Maybe a bit of fear here is healthy, you can only imagine what kind of animal you'd become in his hands.
" Well then, go! " The Icon urges, facing away from you and Santi dramatically. " I won't let myself stare a second longer, lest I ruin this game. " This guy is such a theater dork, you can't believe you sucked him off. And so happily too.
Nevertheless, Santi takes the warning to heart, ushering you up as soon as you have a couple more forkfuls, not enough to last you long. It's a waste of perfect cuisine, frankly. The incubus walks you through the crowd, hand locked with yours, ever determined to soothe you via gentle touches. You appreciate that about him, this demon's been very kind to you so far, for whatever reason. Maybe because you chose him... Well, it was a good choice, you reckon.
Speaking of choices, you're still not too sure about this last one. Every step through the crowd makes your heart beat a bit harder, a bit faster. Will things work out here too?
" You're so tense, love. Is it butterflies? " Santi teases. " Don't worry, keep up this precious attitude and everything will be fine. "
Encouraging...? Not really.
The doors to the kitchen are tall, a brilliant white, and although there's supposed to be windows in each one of them, the glass there is obscured, meaning the inside is a mystery to you. You can hear the sounds however. Nothing too suspicious, chatter and clinking, mostly.
When the two of you reach those doors, your back is basically glued to Santi's front, fear and dread keeping you stock still. The demon is unbothered, simply pushing the large doors apart and edging you inwards.
Now this... This is what you call a real kitchen.
It's absolutely massive. Then again, that's a theme here. You do understand why things need to be larger in general, after all, many of the monsters here are bigger than humans by a considerable amount, their comfort must be catered to- However, this place tends to exaggerate in the dimensions of its overall floors. This entire kitchen is like a house, it's furnished with all sorts of equipment, reminding you of a world-renowned establishment. The brightness hurts your eyes a little, but you suppose it's necessary. How come you've never even once heard of this location?
The first thing your adrenaline-sharpened mind notes is the blood.
On what you very clearly recognize to be some modernized chopping block. On the ground, like something bleeding and squirming was dragged from said block to another huge set of doors, leading lord knows where. A large scarlet handprint you can only guess belongs to the chef on one of those doors. Then there's that cleaver, a scary-looking thing, embedded in the cutting block, some form of viscera and tissue still clinging to it. So he's not just a chef, yes, he's definitely also a butcher. And yet... You know, deep in your soul, whatever creature possibly lost its life here was likely human.
God help you.
That's not all though. As soon as your gradually panicking mind looks at anything but the trails of red present, it quickly finds ambulating creatures. Small. Smaller than the waiter, totally black but reflecting some sort of pigment, their heads floating as they work, each one clad in white kitchen garbs with varying designs. The first thing that crosses your mind nearly makes you vomit. Children?! You blink several times. No. No, they can't be, just because they're small doesn't mean they're infants, you haven't seen a single child here. Besides, you're fairly certain these aren't monsters, whatever the Hell they could be, they all look the same physically speaking, only their color accents and facial expressions distinguish them. This is some sort of clone fest. What are you looking at?! What is this?!
" S- Santi?... " Are you going insane?
" Oh right, you've never seen one of those before. " The demon reminds himself, chuckling at his own antics. You don't question why he's okay with the shady blood stains. " Those things are called bobbles. They're made here, sweetie, think of them as extra helpers. "
Things... They're things. Uhuh.
You watch silently for a couple of seconds. Most of them appear to be absorbed in their own tasks, moving efficiently between each other. Cutting vegetables, passing utensils, cleaning dishes, shouting for ingredients. Some of them occasionally glance at you two, the gray-colored ones completely neutral, the blue ones with a hint of trepidation. They're a bit cute, you'll admit, if you don't question the logic of their mere existence too much. You wouldn't mind having one of these. After a minute or two of watching these "bobbles" work in fast-paced harmony, you relax enough to detach from Santi, standing by his side warily.
Soon, one of the things, with a tall hat and slightly ripped garb, stomps over to you two. Its eyes narrow over pink-freckled cheeks, and he frowns at Santi specifically. A wooden spoon is slapped onto the demon's stomach.
" Ya hav'ta knock! Sir doesn't like it when people don' knock! " It drawls at the snickering incubus, who merely takes the hits without flinching.
" Whoopsie... Can you find it in you to forgive me? "
You muffle an amused noise as well, watching the small critter's face puff in annoyance for a couple of tense seconds. How can anyone take them seriously, with that adorable look? Finally, it gives Santi a bright smile.
" Okay! " Big pink eyes settle on you, after a concerning pause- Like it genuinely hadn't seen you all this time. " Ooh! Ya brought a piggy, sir's gonna like her! "
The bobble grabs your hand with its four-fingered one and starts trying to lead you somewhere, but you stand your ground. Santi's eyes widen and he flicks that intrusive limb away.
" Hey-! "
" No no Turnip, this one's not for the warehouse. " The look on his pale face is serious, making the bobble tilt its perfectly round head. " This one's for sir. He knows her. "
" Ooooohh... " The pink and black bobble waves its hands excitedly. " Special piggy! "
Wait, hold on- It's name is literally Turnip? What.
" Yes, exactly, I need you to get Morell for me, okay? "
" Yessir! "
Funny, didn't Grimbly say that too? Irregardless, the small being trots away, pushing past those heavy-looking doors with great effort and disappearing from sight entirely. You couldn't get a good look at what lies beyond, which is disconcerting.
The incubus begins looking around, and though you can't really tell what he's after, you don't struggle too much when he beckons you over to an empty marbled counter, and sits you atop it. O-Okay. Satisfied, he goes back to waiting, some form of excitement in his gaze, although it mixes with something else, dampening it.
" Am I... " You start quietly, some of the adrenaline crashing, permeated by uncertainty. " Going to be alright? "
The demon faces you, reading into your expression with a carefully neutral one as he ponders. You don't like that he hesitates, that he's thinking about his answer. That in itself should be telling enough. When you look away, defeated, he grabs your hand, a much smoother smile on those handsome features.
" You're tough. " He begins. " I can tell. Trust in your sixth sense and keep it up. "
He meant to be motivating, but truth of the matter is that was neither a confirmation nor a denial. You can see through it, he doesn't know, but the probably doesn't want to scare you either. Fuck.
The humdrum of the kitchen workers chattering to each other and utensils clinking around becomes an indistinct buzz while you recess into the confines of your mind, adrenaline diminishing in the face of relative inactivity. What is the world outside these walls up to, right now? With you missing, your responsibilities unaccounted for, has your family noticed your absence? Is anyone coming for you? Do they even know how you got here? Will you ever see th-
A sudden woosh snaps you back into alertness, the bloodstained doors leading to who knows where parting smoothly. And he powers in. Him being, of course, the chef.
While not nearly as large as monsters like Vesper, he's towering in his own right. You've never been one to realize how much body language matters, but looking at... Santi called him "Morell", you think- You feel more on edge than you ever did around the massive demonic lord. It's his stance. Shoulders always squared, always flexed and tense, he constantly looks as if moments away from lunging towards something or someone. The few minutes of indirect interaction you've had with this monster were enough to transmit an idea of volatility, as if violence is always just one blink too late away.
The white garb he dons can no longer be called white by any stretch of the imagination, coated in splatters featuring varying shades of red. He looks mildly tired, and angry. You're not sure if he's shining from sweat or some differing condensation- The breeze you felt as soon as those doors parted suggests what lies beyond is cold. Like a fridge room.
A crimson-stained towel hanging from his shoulder is used to wipe bloodied hands rather poorly, before the thing is tossed away, a bobble catching it before it can hit the floor.
" This better be worth mah fuckin' time demon, ah'm two seconds away from- "
As soon as those curious cyan hues bounce up to regard the demon, they instantly dart to you, and he stills. Oh yes, he definitely recognizes you. You're being stared down.
" Well then... " The way bold bright teeth poke above that chunky scarf doesn't bode well with you.
" I take it this is worth your 'fuckin' time'? " Santi jabs.
The large mushroom crosses his arms over his chest, not moving from his spot. " Wha's this all 'bout? " Although he makes an effort to glare at the incubus, he keeps looking back to your figure on his counter. You wonder if he might be mad that you're sitting on it.
" Oh relax, I just brought the minx here to see you. " Santi does a placating gesture with his palms, though you feel a slight sting of betrayal when he opens his mouth again. " See, we just had dinner. Our present here loved your work sooo much she said she'd like to personally give her regards to the chef, and who am I to stop her, hm? "
Morell looks straight at you. Nerves force you to gulp, scratching at your arm and face lightly, better to stay silent than say something even more embarrassing.
Eventually, he relaxes slightly. It's a minuscule change is demeanor, but you don't miss it. " ... That so? "
When the demon doesn't reply, you realize it's a cue. What are you supposed to say here? You did agree to it. Besides, if not him, then they'll just toss you at someone else. There's no easy win, might as well do what's kept you alive thus far- Being polite.
" Y- Yes. " You look him in those cyan eyes, oddly shrunk pupils swimming in a sea of black. He seems like the type of guy that values eye contact.
Slow, evaluating seconds pass.
" Aight... Tha piggy can stay with me. " He says it with a chuckle, looking a lot brighter than he did not even a minute ago.
Santi nods, then quickly turns to you, rubbing a clawed hand on your cheek. His face betrays sadness, a little bit of resignation, disappointment. " Sweetness, it looks as if this is where we part. " He leans down, nibbling softly at your bottom lip, before brushing through your hair and taking several steps away. As if forcing himself. " For now, of course. " You can't really tell if that's good or bad.
" Ya done? " A decidedly not amused voice rings. For such a large man, Morell moved quietly, having closed some of the distance between you. " Git tha fuck out already. "
Santi only chuckles, making his way out to the main restaurant area. " Have a great time, love. " One last cheeky wink is all you get, before the demon is out of your sight.
For the first time in a while today, you feel truly alone. Santi had given you a sense of security up until now, even if said sense was erroneous. Here however, you're entirely on your own, feeling hunted, feeling cornered. There's no telling what this monster might want from you.
Keep calm. Breathe. Smile a little.
You'll make it through this.
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Morell stares at you intently.
You seem to be faring well for someone who got thrown to the wolves, all things considered. No longer encased in lace, sporting clothes he swears he's seen before, not trembling in fear with your tail tucked between your legs like earlier. Tsk, Santi's been treating you too well, you ought to have some fear if you're staying here for a while. Fear keeps you alive, keeps you sharp.
Point being, you're clearly the clever type, you wouldn't have made it this far in such an intact condition if you pushed the wrong buttons with the demon. Sure, the shroom's certain you had to pay some sort of price to acquire these accommodations, but you probably knew that prior. He can tell you're not like most of the pigs he gets here, the kind that squeal and kick as soon as he nears them. No, it's in your eyes, you're so much smarter than that.
Doesn't matter, you're about to sing to a different tune with Morell now.
The monster moves once Santi leaves the premises, to the sink only a small distance away from the counter you're perched on. Though his back is mostly turned to you, Morell is confident you wouldn't try to bolt out. You know that you can't, know that without the staff's protection you're just mince meat for the crowd. His hands are rinsed and the towel atop his shoulder is wrung dry of the last pig's blood. He's glad to be rid of that one, they were troublemakers since the time they got dragged in to the very last breath- But you gotta appreciate the consistency, at least. If it was a calmer day, he'd play around with them some more before bringing down the hatchet, so to speak.
Ridiculous, here he is saying he's so busy, about to damn it all just so he can fuck with you. But how can he not? Look at you, just politely sitting on his counter with that fat fucking ass. Looking around, occasionally smiling briefly at his bobbles' antics. It's like you fit here already.
" Well pumpkin- " He starts, giddy that your spine straightens immediately. " 'S a pleasure ta have ya 'ere in mah lil' kitchen. "
The mushroom turns then, wiping his hands, cracking his knuckles. " Ya like tha food? "
You study his face for a moment, confused by the hint of mirth there, but eventually deem it correct to nod. Morell doesn't really care, he knows his food is good. Though he's a little upset you didn't get to try the best parts. When Grimbly dashed into the kitchen, the waiter told him everything. You, tangled between Vesper and Santi- To think that you've gotten an Icon of Hell's attention this soon! What kind of honey is up your ass?! Santi specifically requested something without human, and now he knows why.
Out of genuine fondness. Because really, you don't know what human tastes like. His dishes can oftentimes make that meat blend into other types, visually. If he arranges it well enough, you'd deem it a regular old steak, eat it, and call it delicious. All the incubus had to do is stay quiet. But he went the extra length to make sure you didn't obliviously consume your own kind, the sap.
" Good... Tha's good. " He says, after a pause. " Stop by whenever yer hungry. Ah'll get'cha somethin'. " Something worth eating.
" O- Okay. " Yeah, you're starting to click some things together by now, aren't you?
" Y'know, I'm real hurt, piglet. "
You blink, likely wondering if "piglet" was meant to address you -It was- Unsure where he's taking this. The chef paces several steps your way, ending up looming by your side, enjoying the way you immediately cast your gaze to your lap. He twirls locks of your hair idly.
" Mah memory's blankin', who got ya outta that mimic's jaws again? "
Looking up, searching his face for clues you won't find, you answer hesitantly but truthfully. " It was you? "
Morell snickers. " Yeah, sounds right. After all, who knows what could'a been o' you by now if ah hadn't? "
A sour expression crosses over your smooth features. Yes, think about it. Linger.
" An' still, ya pick the fuckin' demon. " The chef shakes his head, ruffling your hair. You shiver beneath him, likely realizing, just as most others do, that there's a great deal of strength behind his spongy-looking hide. " Ya can't make this shit up. "
" ... But- " What could've been an attempt to defend your incorrect choice is swiftly ignored.
" But what, sweetie? I was tha only one who could'a freed ya there! " The shroom points to himself, as if it was obvious.
Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't, you don't need to know that. Morell stands and watches a myriad of expression race on your complexion. Fear, confusion, dread. " I'm... I'm sorry? "
Hah, oh that's so cute!
His guffawing nearly shakes the kitchen walls, rocking his chest. You're adorable, he'll give you that much. Is this your attempt at placating him?
" 'S not a big deal anymore. " He waves, eventually stopping his fit of laughter. " C'mere. "
You hesitate a healthy amount, he can understand it. Though eventually, when Morell makes it clear he's not going to drop it, and that his patience isn't limitless, you plop down from the counter, taking careful steps his way.
" Closer. " He beckons when you refuse to stand in front of him. " Ya spooked? " Of course you are, he's been around your kind for so long, you're all like mindless gazelles, deers in headlights, pigs squealing to the skies and running around in circles.
It's when the chef places a heavy palm on the counter, and it rattles, that you zing to action and get just as suffocatingly close to the monster as he was hoping. " There we are, was it hard? " It was rhetorical, but he's delighted that you shake your head anyway. " Thought so. "
Morell takes a moment to appreciate the sight of you.
All humans are petite, and although there's something dainty about your demeanor right now, he can see your muscles tense like coiled springs, ready to snap, ready to run. Fight or flight is a beautiful look on you. You have a good amount of meat on your bones, he can tell with a couple of hearty gropes to those bare thighs. Hmm yes, fine cuts, good stuff. His fingers knead at you like dough, and Morell feels a sick little twitch in his pants when you start trembling.
" S- What are- "
" Sshh, quiet naw. " He warns, letting full hands roam around. The chef thrills himself with your obedience, going from calves to back of the thighs, gripping your ass firmly and snickering at your choked noise.
You're a lovely little thing, the kind he feels sorry for when he butchers, because they could last so much longer. Demand here is crazy, which is good for his pockets, but also saddening at times. Morell doesn't get to fool around with the pigs as much as he'd like to anymore. Especially not tonight! When his hands move to your front, palping at your belly, he shakes his head, clicking his tongue.
Practically empty. As he suspected. You haven't eaten anything properly yet, certainly not with those sluts, they probably think feeding you jizz will work out just fine, typical. They don't know how to care for a piglet at all! And to think you willingly chose him, how dim are you? You wince when he grabs at you more firmly, and it's enough for Morell to give it a rest.
" You don' look so full, piggy. " The chef tuts, patting your abdomen. " Knowin' them types, you prolly didn' get ta eat much since ye got here. "
He watches you squirm briefly, either tickled by the softer touch or wanting to stop it. " I'm... It's okay, I'm not that hungry. "
Liar. You're small and weak, you should be eating anything you can in this environment. So dumb, so naïve, it's a wonder luck has been on your side thus far. " Ya sure? " He squints.
" Y-Yep, thank you. "
Cute.
" Welp, in that case- " Morell lets some of his anticipation show, shrugging and moving to be mere inches away from your form. " We can skip right to tha good stuff. "
The whites of your eyes widen and you give him this puzzled, anxious look. Oh come now, don't play dumb. " Ya wanted ta thank me, right? " The shroom grabs your tiny hand in his and puts it to his chest, a lidded, much more playful and relaxed expression on his face. " Don' lemme stop ya, sweetie. "
Oh, the gradually rising panic in your face is just precious. He's a lot, not to toot his own horn, but Morell gets your nervousness. He's been called "an absolute unit" a couple of times and it strokes his ego. Speaking of, you need to be stroking something else right now. He's been pent up these last couple of days, preparing for this event hasn't been kind to Mori's libido.
The chef is starting to think he's going to have to do things the hard way until you finally move. While your palm shakily slides down his chest, feeling slightly excited breathing, he busies himself with untying the long sash around his waist. Much to his disappointment, you don't grope, not that he expected you to anyway. Chuckling, Morell corners you further against the counter, spotted arms on each side corralling your body. His cock jumps in his pants when you give him a doe-eyed look full of uncertainty. You're purposely lingering on his abdomen, avoiding what lies beneath. The chef responds to this by flexing slightly, allowing you to feel his well-built constitution. Yeah sure, he's showing off, let him have this.
You don't look him in the eyes when you eventually relent, fingers sliding down. He's impatient however, roughly grabbing your hand. He reaches for one of the torn sleeves of his white smock and parts it, shrugs off the other one, letting the outfit fall to the floor, kicked aside by heavy-looking boots. You're apparently fascinated, studying his upper body openly, visibly flustered. Morell smiles when you focus on a particularly dark mark on his arm, stare all you want. He rips you back into focus by firmly smoothing your hand over the raging hard-on tenting his black pants, unable to conceal his laughter when you audibly gasp. Aw, don't flatter him like that.
When Morell drops his grip, your fingers remain static, and he rolls his eyes. " C'mon, ya scared? " He parrots.
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Scared is an understatement.
This guy puts you off. Plus, he's packing heat.
At the risk of sounding filthy, you'll admit he's not the biggest you've seen, that title now falls squarely onto Vesper. The Icon's size didn't strike you as something note-worthy- He's already gigantic in comparison to you, of course his junk would be appropriately huge as well. Not to mention your mind was a little clogged at the time. Morell is a whole other story, you might very well have to take him, and he's bigger than Santi for sure. It's cause for some alarm, but then again, this whole situation is.
He seems to have taken your shock as a compliment, though it's very clear the monster's patience is waning the longer you stall.
Shakily inhaling, you give the chef what he wants, stroking generously through the fabric and occasionally squeezing at him. It... It doesn't feel like he has anything on beneath these pants. Your efforts get the monster to sigh in pleasure, looming over you and adjusting, giving you more to work with. There's nothing left to the imagination, the shape imprinted on his clothes lets you know exactly what you're dealing with. And frankly, a part of you is oddly flattered by how much he appears to be getting into it, pressing back against your hand, throbbing, humming lowly.
He seems frustrated, stressed maybe. You don't know how much of a good idea it was to let those two basically nudge you into this.
" Mmf, they teach ya some or are you jus' excited fer me already? " Morell drawls.
Declining to answer, you merely keep going. Part of you was worried he'd call you out, as you're very clearly trying to rile him up so he'll settle for a sloppy clothed grind- As if.
The ring of a zipper coming down is predictable to you, a flushed blue cock already stained by its own precum bouncing free. Fuck, he's really not packing lightly. The look on the chef's face says you better resume, so you opt not to test his patience too much. He's heavy. To be fair, you don't doubt he's dense in general, but the warmth of his member on your hands has you gulping for what might come next. Nevertheless, you try not to look at your own motions while you work him, gaze scanning the kitchen instead.
It's incredible. All this time, the group of bobbles hastily working hasn't casted a single glance at you two. It's as if... This is normal to them. Like they know better than to gawk. You can only wonder what types of obscenities go down here.
You're still staring by the time Morell groans, reaching for your top. The surprise of slightly cold fingers edging up the hem of said cloth has your motions faltering, resigning yourself to letting the cook remove that oversized shirt. What's the alternative? Make him angry? You agreed to this, might as well try to get into it.
Nipples pebble in the cold air near immediately, and the chef laughs quietly to himself at the sight of your breasts, a discolored tongue wetting his teeth. " Everythin' about ya is jus' tha cutest, ain't it? " He grins. " Lookit 'em... "
Big palms frame your tits, and it's only now that the expression "baker hands" takes on a whole new meaning. Morell kneads at your chest in a confident and strong manner that has your breath catching. You're ashamed to admit no one's given your tits this type of attention before, feeling goosebumps rise in the wake of your unexpected pleasure. A high-pitched noise escapes when he plucks at one bud, and you realize your hand has been merely wrapped around him all this time when the monster thrusts impatiently.
" Oh? Did'ja like that? "
" N- No. " Yeah, super believable.
" Lyin' piglet. " The soft scolding is quickly followed by him bending to kiss and lick shamelessly around your tits. You can't help gulping when teeth glide and catch slightly on skin. Fuck's sake, if he actually- He nibbles slightly, spare hand forcing the one around his dripping shaft to work faster. When you look down, seeing a teal shade on his dark cheeks and most of your breast in his blunt-toothed maw, you almost panic.
" D- Don't-! " Did he just fucking throb in your hand? " Please- Don't bite! "
That bright flush intensifies, hot puffs of air wetting your skin as he all but steams, teeth flirting with your pain tolerance, forcing a frightened keen out of you, before he peels back, panting.
" Fuck yeah, yer a good catch. " Morell groans, zipping his pants back up in a vaguely uncomfortably manner. " Don' move a muscle, ya hear me piggy? "
When you don't answer immediately, he gives you an "are you testing me?" glance that installs the fear of meeting the maker into your bones.
" Y- Yes, Morell. "
Why did you say his name? You didn't need to that, you just added a personal touch into this. God damn it. Perhaps it's for the best, because the chef seems appreciative, smiling before hastily cramming himself through the bloodied doors he came from.
You have no idea what he's doing, what he'll return with. And frankly, part of you doesn't really want to know. When Morell's footsteps become distant, instincts beckon you to look towards the opposite direction, to the second pair of tall doors, the one you entered from. It's only a matter of putting on your shirt... Where is it? Who took it?! You look around frantically, but the thing has apparently vanished. Fuck's sake...
Regardless, you can just step outside the kitchen, maybe take your chances... It would be risky, but if you get in that fucking elevator! You know that's the ticket to leave this dump. You just have to figure out which floor leads to the ground level, it's that simple.
You don't even realize you're walking towards the exit.
One of the bobbles, a blue one with a shorter hat, stops next to you, some others giving you side-glances. Although she doesn't utter a word, you can see the silent warning in her face. A cautious shake of the head is all you're given, and then the doors part. Not the ones in front of you though.
" ... Where d'ya think yer going? "
It's as if your lungs collapse for a moment, air refusing to fill them. " No- Nowhere, nowhere, I- "
" And 'ere I thought ya'd behave. Tsk. "
When you zip around, you get to see the large mushroom power towards you, a sturdy-looking rope on his hands. Of course, the thing is adorned with aged red marks. There's a sadistic sort of glee on his dark face, making you take several steps back. His chest puffs, the monster bellowing out.
" Hah! Try it, piggy. " Morell taunts. " Ya take a single fuckin' step outta those doors an' ah'll hunt ya fer sport, pertty baby. "
You don't doubt him.
All you can do is gulp and hope for the best, feet rooted to the tiled ground in spite of the screaming voice that begs you to haul ass. The monster's still snickering to himself when he reaches you. You're no longer spared a hint of gentleness, as the chef grabs your arm tight and drags you to the center of the kitchen, towards one of the horrid, blood-stained chopping blocks.
You're flipped around and slammed face-first onto the wood, assaulted by the sensation of residual, cold viscera on your face. The metallic scent mingles with a woody aftertaste and you start to panic under his hand, very aware a huge cleaver lies only centimeters away from your person. Is this it? Is this the end? Is he going to cut your fucking head off?
" I'm- I'm sorry, please God- "
Your flailing, although definitely amusing to the cook, is halted when he squeezes exceptionally hard on your arm. Your limb grows numb from the sheer force, he's cutting off blood flow. A little more and he'll break your humerus, you can feel it. Getting the message, you go entirely limp, near hyperventilating.
" Easy piggy, easy- " There's a condescending pat to your head. " I'mma jus' tie ya up, 'kay? Don' make me hurt ya. " You can feel the weight of him poised on your back for a moment. " 'Cause ah'll fuckin' love it if I hav'ta. "
You whimper.
" Gonna be good for me? " He tests, already nudging your arms onto your back. You can feel the rope being weaved between them in certain patterns, movements rushed but expertly practiced. You nod rapidly, full of fear, and he hums while tying knots behind your back. One. Two. Three?! Oh, you're not making it out of this one on your own. For sure.
When the chef lets go of your bound limbs, not too tight but not too lax, you give them a test, making the shroom chuckle. " Mm, fine work if ah do say so myself. Good ta know I still got it. "
When fat fingers tug at the hem of your shorts, you can only try to focus on your breathing, shivering when the fabric is dragged down to barely hang by your knees. You still ooze remnants of your slick from prior activities, and Morell doesn't seem to miss that either, because he uses it as lube to jam a digit into you. The insertion is sudden enough to have you jump, leg jerking.
" Ey naw, don' buck at me. " The monster snorts, curling his finger and testing the waters.
You don't know why, or how, but your body warms regardless of the circumstances, walls tightening around that sole digit as if to encourage the chef. And all you can say to yourself is that it's a result of Vesper and Santi's influence. Residual effects, probably. It must be! You wouldn't be into this otherwise, right? You wouldn't find it hot that you're helpless, being molested by a gross butcher on his own filthy chopping block. No... God please no, you don't think you can face yourself after this.
The mushroom monster, oblivious or uncaring of your inner turmoil, simply forces a second finger in, without much resistance. Fuck him and his deliciously thick hands, the familiar stretching sensation sends sparks flying behind your eyelids and you close them. You're not the only one enjoying themselves it seems.
" Damn piglet, lookit that, ya needy girl. " The chef starts eagerly fingerfucking you, giggling and moaning quietly to himself when you reflexively tighten. " The Hell were you tryin' ta run if ya needed me this bad, hm? Too much pride in that lil' noggin'... " He teases, panting.
Unfortunately, no matter how hard you may want to will it into reality, closing your eyes won't simply make this unrequited pleasure fade away. It won't make you any less wet and inviting for the chef, it won't quiet down the shlick of his lurid fingerfucking that somehow manages to ring louder than the humdrum of the constant cooking around you. All that effort is rendered moot when you let out a fevered moan and flex hard around the cook's hand, wanting more.
" Hhn- Fuck yeah. "
Far too jarringly, your cunt is emptied, there's some frantic rustling behind you, a ziiiiip, you know exactly what it is that slaps onto your ass. He doesn't seem very calm.
" M- Morell. " You hope using his name will sweeten your request. " Please be gentle, please. "
" Aww. " He chuckles, stray hand reaching to tickle under your chin, the tip of his member lines up perfectly against you. There's a gentle push, and you do your best to relax, glad he's at least doing that much for you.
Tickling becomes a solid hold of your neck.
" You'd like that, wouldn' ya? "
Morell slams home with a brute strength that not only knocks the wind out of your lungs, it feels like he's shoved your guts up to your throat. It's such an intense feeling that you believe you're sick for a moment, vision blurring as you sob out a mangled cry. For a couple of seconds, you just gasp, pussy spasming and legs shaking erratically, staring straight ahead at the grayish wall.
The chef grunts and sighs loudly, canting his hips to make sure he's fully sheathed inside you, his balls tighten and he shudders in total bliss. " Fuuck, ya wanna milk me dry, don'tcha piggy? "
You really don't care for his taunts, but it's hard not to squeal when a palm strikes across your left asscheek with the fury of a thousand suns. He amuses himself with this, it appears, stroking over the sore spot while he rocks back and forth inside your pulsing walls. He seems to struggle with your tightness, and you struggle with his girth as well, the two of you locked until he thinks to torture your poor clit. " Real fuckin' tight fer someone who's been foolin' 'round with demons. "
He won't let you squirm your way out of his hard rolls, continuing the torture until you're sufficiently relaxed for Morell to establish a slow back and forth, every thrust making you dig your nails into the flesh of your own arms. " Ya oughta stay 'ere fer a while longer. This cute an' this hot? Ah can't jus' let ya out. "
You're just trying to adapt to the cook's size, but he's far too eager, not giving you enough time to adjust before he's speeding up, jostling you. A tongue tries to wet dehydrated lips, tasting nothing but smeared blood while the scent of exotic spices clogs your nostrils and his lewd panting rattles your ears.
You're sure you must have paled like the cauliflower he has laying around when the monster stops to yank that gruesome cleaver out of its groove in the wood you currently lay on. You're not sure whether to cry, scream or simply accept things as they are. Morell grabs a firm handful of your hair, pulls your head back, and allows the blunt end of the blade to flirt with your throat.
" Naw then, do me a favor- " The blade flips, pressing dangerously against frail skin as Morell starts drilling into your small figure. " An' oink fer me, piglet! "
Oh you do.
Even if you wanted to be quiet, you couldn't.
It's everything at once. The absolutely merciless pounding into your pussy, reaching deeper than it should -Why doesn't it hurt?- Dragging hellish waves of bliss through your poor overworked brain, the terror of that cleaver possibly sinking into your body, slitting your throat open so you bleed out while he happily fucks you till your dying breath, becoming nothing more than yet another ambiguous red stain in this morbid kitchen. Nothing could ever prepare you for this, so you moan, whimper and squeal like the animal he wants you to be, doing your best to hang onto anything, tears and drool cascading down your face.
You can't tell left from right anymore, shivering at every bestial noise Morell makes above, feeling his balls slap against you with every hard piston, it's really no wonder your confused body couldn't keep up, and you truly screech in the wake of your jarring orgasm, seeing dots swimming in your vision.
" Atta girl! Nice an' sloppy... "
In spite of his confident tone, Morell's rhythm falters at your clenching. And, much to your relief, he lets the cleaver fall to your side, focusing instead on using both hands to frame your head while he bends to be flush against your back. It's a humiliating position, but you've long since stopped giving a shit about dignity here. In fact, you just want to make it out of this hellish kitchen mostly in one piece.
There's not much room for thinking when he grunts like a bull into your eardrums, gasps turning into silent gasps the second he starts slamming home deep and hard. One, two, three, four and-
His deep growl shakes you from head to toe, legs kicking instinctively as his cock flexes and he fills you like an obscene bucket. It's an uncomfortable sensation that applies too much pressure everywhere, and even if you can't be sure, you think you came again from it, very briefly. The sound of cum splattering to the floor rings in your mind while you simply wait for Morell to milk the last of his orgasm so you can come down.
" Hm, didn' have this much fun in a while, piggy. " He finally mutters, massaging your hips calmly as he rises. " Gotta say, I'm real glad ya chose ta gimme your 'regards'. "
You just groan senselessly. Your legs feel like melting jelly.
You're not sure what he's about to do next, and neither of you get to know anyway, because a group of short pitch black bodies scram in through the front doors.
" Sir! Sir please, you have to help! "
" It's serious! "
" The giant snake woman swallowed Alfredo!! "
... What?
Staring vapidly at the creatures, nothing happens for a couple of static seconds. Then the cook sighs, exasperated, before sliding out of you slowly. He shushes you when you wince, patting your sore thighs before fully laying you onto the large chopping block. You can't muster the energy to care, merely laying there and hissing at the increasing discomfort from having your arms tied this long.
" Ah'll be right back, pumpkin', promise. "
The last thing you hear is stressed murmuring, a zipper sliding up and boots stomping away, another woosh signaling the doors have closed and you're now mostly alone.
Yes, finally, some peace... A smile of relief almost makes its way to your lips before your consciousness fades entirely.
...
" So this is where she's been all this time... "
" Geez, can you believe it? I bet they just threw her in here to fend for herself. "
" In all honesty, I am appalled she has lived this long. "
" She's special, can't you tell Nebul? "
" You're much too prone to theatrics. "
Distant voices lull you back to reality, tired eyes blinking open, adjusting to the lights in the kitchen once more, before appraising the two studying your curled up form. One being the waiter, and the other that guy wearing a cloak, with the strange-looking head.
" Oh here she is, hi! " The smaller one waves, smiling bright.
" You cannot stay here for long. " The other warns. " If you intend to live, that is. This floor has fallen to total calamity. "
Yeah, you bet.
" I'll take care of this, you can go back up! " Grimbly hastily cuts in.
" You misunderstand, I'm not leaving without the human. " Although monotone, even you can sense the warning implied. Not that his coworker seems to care.
" Yeah right, like that's happening. Who knows what you'll do to this poor girl, you freak. "
" It would certainly be better than becoming an impulsive vampyre's bloodbag. "
The waiter's eye twitches. " ... How fucking dare you. "
Alright, back to square one it is. You need to leave before Morell comes back, and these two don't seem like they'll reach an agreement anytime soon.
You'll have to pick again.
Sighing, exasperated,
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fluttershyflores2 · 8 months ago
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(English translation of a chapter I made (poor translation notice, you can ignore this...)
part 2 - part 3
"I must admit that I don't want you to leave, but we also can't be together. I have loved you, I love you, and I will love you for the rest of my life. Never forget that, even when we are far apart."
Hurrying through the trees, trying to see where they are taking her, why is this happening? She can't leave, not yet, they've only just met, and now someone is taking her away from him.
Liu E. M: HEY, WAIT! - trying to catch up - Where are you taking her?
His shouts were only heard by Fuxi, who was already getting annoyed. Why wouldn't he leave them alone? How important is Flower that he's acting like this? He has to do something and quickly.
Fuxi: Flower, you can wait for me by the seaside - holding her shoulders -.
Flor: but...- trying to turn back, but Fuxi stops her.
Fuxi: please, daughter - looking at her intensely -.
With no choice, the young woman obeys and heads towards the sea to wait for him, already seeing him walk away, Fuxi unsheathes his sword.
-🗡️-🗡️-
Liu Er, now getting closer, decides to climb down from the trees to continue following them on foot, but a sword appears in front of his face, scaring him, lifting his gaze only to see that it's the god Fuxi.
Fuxi: without much hassle, can you tell me why you're following us? - threateningly -.
Liu Er, sweating, backs away to put some distance between himself and the sword.
Liu E. M: I just want to know where you're taking her.
Fuxi: I don't think that's any of your concern - questioning -.
Liu E. M: of course it is, she's my friend - affirming -.
Fuxi: do you think my daughter would want to be friends with a demon?
Liu E. M:... - silently lowers his head -.
Fuxi: don't tell me - sarcastically - she doesn't know.
The god lowers his sword and sheathes it, still looking at Liu Er, furrowing his brow.
Fuxi: demons like you hurt people and eat them. Do you think if Flor knew what you do, she would still want to be your friend?
The white-furred monkey, gritting his teeth, avoids making any sudden movements. What he says might be true, but he's different, he would never hurt her because that's not what friends do.
~🌸~🌸~
Liu E. M: well, you have me, and I promise I'll do the impossible to always be by your side.
Flor: do you promise...
Liu E. M: I promise.
~🌸~🌸~
Liu E. M: I...am different - lifting his head - I would never hurt her. If I did, I would never forgive myself...
Fuxi sighs and walks away, but stops for a moment.
Fuxi: if you care so much about her, it's better for her own good if you forget about her.
Leaving the place, Liu Er, with a lump in his throat, falls to the ground defeated. Maybe he's right, how would she react to knowing he's a demon? He's not sure, but if it means not seeing her or searching for her to avoid hurting her, so be it. But he swears with his soul, until the time comes, he will search for her.
"It will depend on fate whether we will meet again, even in another life."
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tinyperson00 · 10 months ago
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Different Worlds 💠 pt. 2
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if you havnt read part one yet, I recommend you go back to read that first. -part one link-
-Part two-
part 1 // part 3
Haia scans her surroundings in the forest before heading over to the people she sees. 'What is with the uneasiness in this forest..?' She asks herself. As she runs over to the first body she finds, something shocks her. 'They're not necessarily dead, but also not necessarily alive. It's almost as if they're shattered.' She leans down to closer examine the person who lays still again a rotting log on the forest floor. The body appears to still be breathing, but somehow they dont seem to be quite alive either.
"Help-..." the woman starts to say, "Help us.." her uniform is torn in many places, which means the demon must be strong to be able to cut through it. (Since in the manga the uniforms are said to be resistant to demon slashes.) her right eye is split open, and the slash continues down her body. there are several other open wounds on her body as well, deep wounds. Her left arm seemed to be nearly completely severed off from her shoulder, and her leg was badly broken.
"What.. What happened here..?" Haia says with a look of terror in her eyes. As she closer inspects the poor dying woman, something seems to stick out to her. The deepest wounds around the outside appear to form a diamond shape with the more shallow slashes inside the outline to make it look almost like some sort of shattered diamond.. Was this just a coincidence?? Or was it something more than that. Haia is unsure of whether she would grab the woman, or if she was too late to save now. 'Ill call for some Kakushi to collect and heal these people.' Haia finally decides.
"Don't worry.. ill get my crow to send in some Kakushi. How many more of there were you? Was it just one demon that did all this as well??" So many questions, not enough answers. Haia calls out to her crow and it leaves to gather the Kakushi.
"one demon.. it wasn't a moon, but it should've been.." she begins to say, "My squad had 5 demon slayer in it. We were all wiped out within 10 minutes of entering the forest.." then suddenly a strange sound begins and the woman slayer gets a look of terror. "NO! PLEASE! IM SORRY PLEASE! I DIDNT MEAN TO-" Then out of nowhere she practically gets destroyed from the inside. The 'Diamond' outline lit up a bright light blue, and the 'cracks' suddenly sank deeper into her skin all the way through and ripped her body apart into pieces. It was a shattering sound. Right before she died it sounded like a giant, loud, Shatter.
the look of pure and utter terror on Haia's face was unmeasurable. Some of The blood from the woman had splattered onto Haia's Haori and uniform. She slowly backed up from the body and decided to run and regroup with Toju. While she ran through the forest she passed about 6 more bodies that had suffered the same fate as the woman she had found earlier. 'Please be ok, Akira.. Toju..' she silently said to herself.
Toju hadn't found any living person yet. 'What the hell happened here..?' He wonders. 'How in the world can one demon do this' Toju hadn't made the connection with the diamond shape yet, since he hadnt found anyone alive so they are all just shattering into pieces.
"Someone..! Please, Anyone! HELP US!"
Toju can hear a voice calling for help in the distance. He speeds up and runs off in the direction of the sound. Finally, upon reaching the voice he is met with the sight of 2 young girls. 'They're not demon slayer..!' He is shocked what they are doing out here all alone like this. The smaller girl, the one who had called for help, was sitting on the ground holding another bigger girl in her arms. The older girl looked to be severely injured. Toju sees that she has 4 large, deep wounds formed on her body that somewhat resemble the outline of a diamond. She also has 5 smaller slashes inside this diamond making it look like it's cracked. The younger girl only had a few shallow cuts on her face and arms. 'How did she manage to get off with only those scratches? Did the older one protect her..? Did she hide??' Toju wonders confused.
"Hey, What happened? Are you two alright, where are your parents?" Toju softly asks while crouching down to kneel in front of them, still keeping aware of his surroundings.
"He- he hurt her!" The young girl says while sobbing in between her words. "The man with lots of scars and pointy teeth.. he-" Then suddenly she starts balling into tears uncontrollably.
Toju leans in closer to comfort her and gets her to calm down in order to ask a few questions. He knew that this 'man' she was talking about was in fact the demon that was controlling this area. "What happened to this other girl? Is she your sister," he asks gently.
"My.. she's my older sister," the girl responds. "We were trying to find our way home because we got lost.. then the man showed up and said some funny words."
"what did he say to you?" Toju asks
The girl tries her best to remember exactly what he said, then replies to Toju, "He.. he asked us if we had ever broke a promise. I told him no, since I haven't. Maki said the same."
"Is Maki your sister's name?"
"Yes. The man then looked angry and said that we were liars. Then he said some funny words that were like, bloody demon arts or something."
Toju is paying his full attention to what she tells him. "What happened after that?"
"well then he said more funny words. I think it was, Shatter diamonds? But then all of the sudden we were both blown back and I heard Maki scream really loud, but I only got some cuts."
'But how.. how was she not affected by this demons blood demon art?' Toju wonders somewhat frustrated now from confusion.
"Maki had 4 really really big cuts on her and then when I went over to her the kept getting more small big cuts inside the 4 ones. I think that she got the cuts because he said she lied about breaking promises maybe. Maki has broken some promises we made."
"So because you've never broken a promise the man didn't hurt you?" Toju says.
"I think that's why.. but Maki keeps getting worse! How can she get better again..? Will you do something," the girl begins to start sobbing again.
"..Im gonna help you, both of you. I promise."
".. You know, It's suicide to make promises that you can't keep. . Especially, around me."
Toju instinctively darts around to shield the two girls. 'Where did that come from? I dont recognize that voice at all..?'
"FIND AKIRA! HURRY!" Toju yells out to his crow with fear and urgency in his voice. The crow flies away as fast as it possibly can to go retrieve Akira.
Haia finally sees Toju in the distance. She had sensed the demon near him, and realized that he may be about to die.
"TOJU!" She calls out to him as best she can.
He meets Haia's eyes and realizes. The sudden shock of terror shakes him to his core. This is a presence he's never felt before. Even though he's fought lower moon 5 before with Akira, this demon.. even if not marked as part of the moons.. Was 1000% stronger than it.
Toju turns to the girls for a moment, "Hide."
The girls take off running, The younger one practically dragging her sister.
Then in what felt like an instant, Toju turns to meet the deathly gaze of the demon. He was just a few feet from where Toju now stood. He hadn't heard, seen, or even sensed the demon emerge from its spot.
The only thing he could hear from Haia was one single word.
"RUN!!!"
-end of part two-
Well Im pretty sure this one was longer than part 1, so thats a plus!
This was actually pretty interesting to write :D my brain the entire time was just like fully immersed in the reality of the situation lol-
I hope you liked this part, and the next one will be releasing probably either tomorrow or the next day.. depending on how much homework im loaded with ;-;
anyway! Lemme know what you thought of this 💗💗
Also if youd like to be tagged in these for when the next part comes out then just tell me! Id be happy to add the tag
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fictional-world777 · 2 years ago
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♡Happy birthday teddy bear♡
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fandom » &team
pairing » Fuma x f!reader
rating » 18+ (minors dni!)
genre » smut, established relationship.
word count » ± 2100
(Caution - English is my third language.)
29th June is very important date in your calendar. It is one and only Fuma-kuns' birthday, although he told that he does not wanted to celebrate it , you had another plan. Together with other 8 boys , you calculated most undercover party ever. Your plan contained to lie about some injury. His heart might skip a beat and he would run to you as fast as possible. Jo the king of innocence was against it. In his opinion it was too cruel to do that , but yet he is still with others buying some food for the party. After the birthday live, EJ must had distracted him away from you. Fuma few times checked his phone but there was no any notification from his significant other. He was upset but had not showing it much. After the live Ej was trying to occupy all of his attention. With the help of boys you have decorated all dorms' living room. Finally, the most important moment came, you send message that on the way to the dorm some bicyclist hit you and run away. You assured him that you were okay. To make it more dramatic Nicholas messaged him too, that he saw the accident from the window and helped her to reach the apartment. Fuma was furious someone hurt his angel and just run away. He immediately grabbed his backpack without telling Ej sprinted out. In matter of minutes he was in front of the dorm. EJ run out from his taxi nearly hitting his head on the ground, because his shoelaces were untied.
EJ : What's wrong?
Fuma : Some scum hit Y/n on the bicycle and run away.
Fuma really really rarely used bad wards. EJ knew it wouldn’t end well when he'll find out that it was just a prank.  He nearly flew to the third floor of a building. Suddenly saw near the door one, just one, sparkly gold confetti. Fuma snapped, pushed the door with all force and it made the loudest sound, which creeped everyone out who were inside the dorm.
He was out of breath and looking at each of you with full of anger gaze.
Fuma : First of all I asked no to do anything for my b day, second who’s idea was to lie to me about the injury?
He ran to Nicholas and pushed him to the wall. Nicho looked really scared, he never seen Fuma like this. You ran to them, to stop the fight before it could start.
y/n : It was me, it was my idea ! Leave him alone !
Fuma : You little demon…
He strongly grabs your wrist and pulls you out from dorm.
Fuma : Do not you think come after us.
Fuma takes you out of building accompanied,  with members scared face expressions.
He catches taxi and pushes you inside, but not like that taxi driver could thought of calling the police.
y/n : Where are we going?
Fuma : At your place.
y/n : But I do not have the keys . It's in my bag, which actually is at your dorm…
Fuma : I have spare key .
y/n : You have what? I do not remember giving you permission to make it .
Fuma : I do not need permission to protect you.
y/n : Protect from who? What?
Fuma :  From everything. Why you lied to me?
y/n : It was not a lie, it was a prank, you have not had to react like that
Fuma : And how I had to react? You know how much you mean to me...
y/n : I know and you just could enjoyed my gift to you and left your pride behind the dorm door!
Fuma : It is not my pride, I asked not to do it and you still did it. Lied to me, you better apologize properly.
y/n : For what? For loving you?
He was client after this words which you shouted at him , even taxi driver jumped.
Fuma : Get out of the car
You obey. His voice is husky, but now it is even dipper as usual, it makes you feel week in your knees .  At elevator he was piercing you with his gaze. Finally you are in front of your apartment door, you do not know what to do nor what will happen next. He opens door with his spare key and waits you to come inside. Fuma shuts it and looks it with every possible way. Then he throws his backpack somewhere, does not bother to turn lights on and goes to the couch in center of the living room. He set down. Now Fuma seems really calm, but again commands with low voice.
Fuma : Come closer.
 With wobbly legs you approach him.
Fuma : Sit near me.
You set down but not too close to him.
Fuma : You know that you deserve a punishment?
y/n : A punishment?
He grabs you and pushes you with your stomach down on his firm thighs.
y/n : Fuma are you serious? Are you gonna spank me ?
Fuma : Yes. Your brat behavior needs to be stopped.
You try to run from this embarrassment and move as much as you can, but Fuma is stronger. He pulls up your skirt and sees your red sexy lingerie.
Fuma : What is this?
y/n : It was part of my gift, but I changed my mind. I am not giving you anyth……
Before you finish the the sentence you feel sharp pain on you butt, with high tone slap sound. You yelped.
Fuma : Well then I will take it by force.
He pulls your panties to your knees, at this point you have already gave up on trying to run away. But showing your pain to him was not in the plan. Fuma slapped again and waited for your reaction. Silence. Slapping sounds continuous to echoing in the room. You try your best to keep mouth shut and do not make any sound. Pain grows immensely. Tear drops forming in the corners of your eyes. Suddenly Fuma stops, flips you on your back and pushes you down on the couch. He tries not to crush you with weight of his body. You close your face with hands.
Fuma : Look at me.
He pushes both of your hands away and puts them on top of your head secures with his one hand. You do not have other choice and look at him. His eyes were dark nearly black.
Fuma : Are not you going to apologize?
Y/n : No.
Fuma hides his head in the crook of your neck, then traces on it with his nose, suddenly you feel his teeth grazing your soft flesh. It was so unexpected that you screamed.
Fuma : Now I want you to start making noises baby. Stop being a fucking brat.
He let goes of your hands. You try to push your legs as close as possible. It will be so miserable, if he'll found that you are already dripping wet. But again Fuma is so strong. He pulls apart your legs and nests between them.
Fuma : What we have here.
Your pants are already on the floor, because of earlier spanking session.
The sight of you wet pink cunt makes him hard in a second. You see his bulge grow in his sweatpants.
y/n : I think it is unfair that only I am half naked.
Fuma : You are right.
With one swipe he pulls your dress all the way up and off your body. Fuma nearly ripped your lace bra. Then he takes of his green hoodie and throws it on the floor.
Fuma : Every time I see your naked body ,it feels the same as it is my first time seeing you like that. You are magnificent.
His words make your body temperature rise impossible high. Fuma touches your collar bone and traces his fingers down on your chest. He grabs your left breast and starts massaging it. You let out small moan.
Fuma : Yes like that baby. It is my birthday and I'm still waiting for your gift.
Suddenly you feel guilty that you ruined his b day, but your pride was so hard to swallow.
Fuma lowers his head down to you throbbing core and kisses it. You let out longer moan. He smirked and started his kitten licking. Your legs can’t stay on place and try to buck up for more friction, but Fumas hand stops you to do it.
Fuma : Stay still baby girl.
Than starts open mouth kissing your pulsing heat. You try not to move but buck your hips again. Fuma slaps your cunt.
Fuma : Again, you behave yourself like a little, dumb brat. Luckily I know haw to tame you.
He starts harshly sucking your clit. Knot in your stomach starts to tighten in a seconds. As Fuma harasses your body he bucks his clothed member in to the couch. Both of you just can not control your needs anymore. You were soo close to the release.
y/n : Fuma I'm so close please …
He stopped all together.
Fuma : So now you are a good girl? Than like a good girl you must apologize for what you did.
As he speaks Fuma is trying to stop his have breathing.
y/n : Fuma I am so sorry for lying to you and ruining this day.
You looked guilty and sexy at the same time.
He smiles for the first time after the incident.
Fuma : The day is not over yet.
He pushes his two fingers inside of your pussy and attacks you clit like a hungry animal. The tight knot came back in a lightning speed.
y/n : Fuma please do not stop…
Your moans and his slurping sound echoes in the room. Your fingers find Fumas messy hair and pushes his head closer to you core. You do not want him to stop again at the very important moment.
y/n : I am coming…
You scream as you come all over his face. And maybe even squirt on him. Your sight is blurry, but still you try to take a look of him. Fuma looks like bird which fell from the nest. Your gaze stops on his bulge which is covered with huge dark spot on the crotch area. The thought that he humped the couch while going down on you made your head go dizzy.
Fuma : As I said day is not over yet.
With this words he flips you again on your stomach, you hear sound of his belt and zipper. Fumas' weight disappeared from the couch just for a split second. He pulls your lower body upwards and closer. 
Fuma : I am sorry I can not wait anymore. I want to be inside of you so badly.
He goes inside with one trust and freezes. It was painful but not as much as spanking. The size difference is still here.
Fuma : Oh baby you are still so tight even after all that times I have ruined you.
y/n : Fuma please move.
You try to move yourself.
Fuma : My needy little girl, if you'll continue moving like that I am gone come right now. I do not want to disappoint you.
y/n : Fuma you could never disappoint me.
 You find his hand on the couch and interlock your fingers with his. He breathes heavily in you neck.
Fuma : I think I am ready.
He starts with slow trusts. But even his patience has limits. His movements got faster, stronger, deeper. Your moans make him go crazy.
y/n : Please Fuma, I want to see you and hear you sounds too.
He turns you to face him, without leaving your burning heath. You put your hands and legs on his beck and lock them.
y/n : I will never ever let you go. I promise.
Your words make him smile again. He taps your thigh.
Fuma : Hold on me tight.
He leaves your body and enters with such force you scream again. He is not holding his voice anymore , this low grunts and moans right in your ear makes your mind go blank.
Fuma feels that soon he will come and slides his hand between your wet bodies to reach your clit. Immediately starts to circle it with his thumb.
y/n : Fuma I am so close please kiss me.
He kisses you like there is no tomorrow, it swallows your and his moans.  Both come at the same time. Have breathing fills the room. You are not letting him go as you promised. Fuma crushed you with his body, but it is okay. After all he is your sweet teddy bear. You remembered that you have not wished him happy birthday yet.
y/n : Happy birthday teddy bear.
You look at him and see that he has fallen asleep on you.
Mission successful completed.
It is my debut on tumblr authors world. Hope you will like it. 🌹🌹🌹
Constructive criticism is welcomed.
I know I am really late for Fumas' birthday (sob)
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quietwingsinthesky · 1 year ago
Note
If you are still taking prompts how about a scene with lucifer worshipping sam like hes heavenly gift - basically just luci giving sam a self-esteem boost (because tbh sam really needs one)
hello anon! i think this one got a little... weird? but i hope it's what you were looking for :3
When Sam says that he is unholy, it’s resigned. 
Deaths around me since I was born, he presents as evidence, without Dean or Dad vouching for me, I think I would’ve been shot before I turned eighteen. Always knew there was something wrong, deep down. Demon blood rotting my veins.
He doesn’t list Lucifer as one of the reasons he’s damned. Not to his face, if he does believe it, but Lucifer doesn’t think so. They’ve spent too long entangled. Sam knows his sins as well as his punishment, his part in the grand play and how few scenes he was written to be in before curtain call. Blame grows like vines up a wall, reaching higher and higher for who was actually at fault. Sam was going to be Lucifer’s from the moment he fell, but Lucifer was always going to fall. Placing the onus on God is harder for someone who never met him. (Lucifer speaks as someone who can’t despite that. Even closing his vessel's eyes can make him feel trapped, and he still loves the God who caged him.)
So, the vines reach nowhere before they’re torn down by Sam himself beside the tall stone. He takes their straining bodies and wraps them around himself to mimic chains when no one else will bind him. He leads himself to the gallows to choke for betrayals he had no control over. He thinks he’s to blame for being a baby who smiled at a stranger over his crib before the sour taste of sulfur splashed on his tongue. Someone has to be punished for it. 
If a stay in Hell couldn’t make him feel pure, how does he think tearing himself apart will?
Sam is stubborn, but he was made in Lucifer’s image and they both learned from hardheaded older brothers how to stand their ground. As many times as Sam tries to tie his own noose, Lucifer will sit beside him and undo the knots without judgment. 
After all, Sam threw him back into Hell, and Lucifer still loves him. He can’t blame Sam for anything.
His greatest crime, Sam always claims, was freedom. He knows this, taught to him by Heaven’s sifted memories and his brother’s scowl at his happiest moments. Lucifer is hungry for every minute of Sam’s life that he missed, and though most scars are ones Sam will tell stories about in detail, (“-two of them coming at me, with claws as long as my forearm, and one got lucky-“) Lucifer had an easier time wrangling the horsemen than he does getting Sam to tell him about Stanford. 
It’s strangely easier for Sam when Lucifer wears another face. With long blonde hair falling around his shoulders and soft brown eyes and a mole between his brows that Sam will press a kiss to, he’s allowed to hear about that secret life. Sam doesn’t call him Jessica anymore, but when he tells Lucifer about her, he holds him like he's half-memory, half-dream. He talks about his other friends, faces that, if he’s lucky, he hasn’t seen in years, and if he’s not… Lucifer still has yet to drag that out of him, even though he knows already about the devils on Sam’s shoulder before him. 
Lucifer kept track of exactly how long he was locked away, on Earth and in Hell. On Earth, he measure it against the rise of man’s empires. As for Hell, humans haven’t bothered to invent a number that high. Most of the stars he watched be created and grew alongside are now younger than him by millennia. 
So it is not lightly that Lucifer tells Sam that freedom is never a sin.
He’s not sure Sam believes him. 
Sam will take on every burden tossed his way. Most people seem happy to let him. Lucifer will not see him crushed. He’s too lovely for that. Too important. (After all, he’s Lucifer’s entire world. That must mean he’s the center of the universe, more gravitational pull that the sun.)
It has to be like this: in the shade of the Bunker’s main building, where the grass grows a deeper shade of green than the other side because the soil is better for reasons Lucifer is still puzzling out, Lucifer pushes Sam into a wall and kisses him. Sam makes a noise, surprise, but he came out on Lucifer’s invitation for some fresh air and he doesn’t push him away. There are dandelions growing in the crack between the cement and the ground it sticks out of. Lucifer nudges Sam’s feet gently to the side so that he doesn’t accidentally step on one. 
“If you wanted somewhere we could make out in private, my door has a lock,” Sam says as Lucifer breaks the kiss to let him breathe. His lungs expand and deflate in a strong, steady rhythm. His heart beats calmly. Lucifer listens to it. He’d gotten used to spending entire nights keeping track of Sam’s heart, fear gripping him every time it would skip a beat or weaken. The trials would have taken everything from Lucifer. He is sick of his Father’s ultimate sacrifices or how Sam always seems to be the one who must lie down on the altar. 
“That’s not it,” he says. He kisses Sam again for the easy joy of it. Sam melts into him. He has mostly recovered thanks to Lucifer’s attention, but sometimes, the weakness will strike back again. Sam’s gotten very used to leaning on Lucifer. “I want you to understand something.” Sam’s mouth curves into a smile. Lucifer lifts a finger to trace the dimple that forms. 
“What?” he asks. 
“How good you are,” Lucifer says. He can feel the words rip through Sam worse than any barb, and that hurts. He’s more used to insults than praise, no matter how Lucifer tries to make up the difference. 
“Lucifer, that’s not-“ Sam tries for the first time to push him away, and though Lucifer allows distance between them, he doesn’t let Sam run from this. Not when he needs it. Instead, he runs his fingertips gently over Sam’s skin while he’s kept at arm’s length. Sam relaxes under his touch, never fully, but Lucifer is still reintroducing him to all the love he’s allowed to have. He trails his touch up Sam’s arm to the hand keeping him at bay, firmly clasping Lucifer’s shoulder. Lucifer wraps his hand around it.
“This world doesn’t deserve you as its savior,” he tells Sam. Sam shakes his head, and Lucifer wonders which part he’s denying more, that he’s too good for the world or that he ever even saved it. They were both there in Stull, two parts of one whole, but somehow it’s only Lucifer who remembers it for the victory it was. “It’s lucky that you don’t care. That all it would take is one decent soul to convince you it’s worth it. They don’t even have to be pure. They just have to be trying to do better, and you’ll walk into fire for them.”
“That’s just my job,” Sam downplays. 
“No, your job is to hunt. No one makes you care. You’ve chosen to do that all on your own, no matter how hard it is.” Because it is hard, even for Sam. He’s as human as the rest of them. He gets frustrated and angry and hurt. He extends kindness anyway. 
Lucifer should know. Who else would find the devil half-dead on their doorstep while trying to close Hell and still bring him in from the cold? Who else would have given him a second chance he never earned?
Sam’s grip on his shoulder falters. Lucifer leans back in until his mouth meets Sam’s again. 
“I wish I could share how I see you, Sam,” Lucifer says. “You shine so bright.” Sam laughs bitterly like Lucifer’s told a poor joke.
“I went to Hell,” he argues. “I couldn’t even finish the final trial. There’s nothing pure, nothing bright, about me.”
“Hell tried to snuff you out. The trials tried to burn you until there was nothing left. You are so much more beautiful for having survived them.” And beautiful makes Sam flinch. Something Lucifer knows for certain: before him, no one had ever called Sam that, except maybe as a joke. Handsome, sure, and he is, but he’s beautiful, too, and Lucifer needs him to believe that. He will, one day. Lucifer is nothing if not persistent.
“Why do you care so much about what I think?” Sam whispers. Lucifer bumps his forehead to Sam’s, and Sam’s hand comes up to rest on the back of his neck and hold him close.
“Someone should,” Lucifer says. He shuts his eyes and thinks for ways to make Sam understand how much this matters. It goes beyond simple pride. 
And maybe that’s how to show Sam he’s serious. 
Lucifer presses one more kiss to his lips to steel himself. His grace recoils at the vulnerability of what he wants to give Sam, but he wrestles it into obedience. Sam is blinking back tears, mostly succeeding but for one or two that glance off his cheek as they escape the tip of an eyelash. Lucifer kisses the wet spots they leave. 
Arduously, he forces himself to his knees. The very concept of him rebels against it. He sits at Sam’s feet like the dandelions beside his heels. It takes everything in him to gaze upwards at Sam and see his expression. Sam’s mouth is agape. His hair falls forward into his eyes as he looks back down at Lucifer. He can’t seem to remember how to speak, and that’s just as well because Lucifer can’t either. He reaches up for Sam’s hands and manages to capture both of them in his own.
Sam is leaning back against the wall. Lucifer tips into him. His thighs lift off of his heels as he pushes himself forward. He rests his head against Sam’s stomach.
It’s peaceful. Lucifer won’t go as far as to say that he feels like he belongs there, but it’s nostalgic, in a way. He forces the air out of his vessel’s lungs. It makes the bottom of Sam’s shirt ruffle. 
One of Sam’s hands escapes Lucifer’s. It finds its way to the back of Lucifer’s head, and the uncertain scratch of nails over his scalp settles him enough that he can speak again.
“You are good,” he tells Sam. “You are good. You are good.” He repeats himself. He’s out of practice with prayer. He hopes the mantra will do. Maybe Sam can teach him a thing or two later.
Sam listens, and maybe, Lucifer hopes, he starts to believe it.
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indie-bard-maiden · 3 months ago
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~potions & things~
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(the demon/witch story, apart of my short story collection 'The Ballad of Hollowfaye' also available to read on wattpad)
The Crone makes another sacrifice as apart of the deal she made with a demon at The Doors of Death. Only this one isn't working out the way she originally hoped.
Genre: short story (literal)
Word count: 1259 (allegedly) 
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The Crone stared out the dust-aged window, longing to best Damary, the pig deity of Time and the Life Cycle and the hungry brother-in-law of Isra, in a dual and take what's rightfully hers. However, last she'd heard, he was on house arrest for armed robbery. So she had no other choice but to settle for the emotional turmoil of robbing the life of her docile granddaughter.
That was minutes ago now, and the grieving process proved to be quite unforgiving because of how taxing, and, yes, gruesome the murder had been. The stark moonlight forcing its way through the tiny window—the ONLY window in this cursed tomb—illuminated the dry, clotted blood on her festering hands. She couldn't bear to look down at them or behind her. She knew what she'd find if she did:
Fallon, once a wild and bright-eyed girl in her fifteenth year with crimson hair, a heart of gold and the virtue of a nun. Now she was just a disembowled corpse with mutilated limbs and a severe smile severed into her delicate cheeks, lying on a pentagram carved into the hardwood floor beneath her.
She was a beautiful child with an even more beautiful soul. Always understanding, kind and humble—even on her bad days, on the days she was odd and peculier, when she was fearless to the point of stupidity.
The Crone hadn't wanted to murder everyone she'd been close to in this life. She'd already been responsible for the deaths of her loved ones in her last life. Just like then, she hadn't much choice. She'd tried many a time to reason with her tormentor!
It was all in vain.
"Virgin blood," the disembodied voice insisted, "is the price you must pay to receive a gift such as this."
She'd fallen to her knees in exasperation, desperation, and out of general weakness,"That is no small cost, Dark Being."
"And how little did you expect to pay for Eternal Youth, you foolish mortal?"
"Much, your Darkness," her voice shook, "but I didn't expect the payments to be centenary."
The voice let out a deep, raspy laugh. Even though It had no body she could tell the sound had come from the hollowness of Its chest.
That meeting had been many moons ago by now. So many days and nights had passed, and with each one, she deteriorated further. The voice—that wretched daemon—was growing more impatient with every second. She could feel Its eagerness like it was her own.
That was another stipulation she hadn't been aware of when she'd sold her soul to It at Death's door, the only way to escape death and punishment for her mortal crimes altogether. She'd foolishly feared it back then.
Now they were forever bonded; their essences weaved finely together until the end of all time and existence. A punishment worse than death. She could feel It near even now, waiting in the still darkness to come claim Its prize.
It usually didn't wait this long. The last time she'd stolen a life, It appeared as soon as she bore her dagger into his racing heart.
'It's been too long,' she thinks to herself, 'she's been dead for at least a second or five.'
Despite her discomfort, she sneaks a peak over her shoulder and flinches back at the awaiting image. The pale purple and bloated body, resting in a glimmering pool of ruby red delicately placed organs. The face with the horrorstruck betrayal still etched into her skin, the terror locked forever in her absent eyes.
That was better than the alternative, when they held the acceptance of death everlasting; eventually they had to. They knew they had no other choice. They were going to die, and that was that.
Another stipulation she'd known naught: never to experience the cold oblivion of Death's touch herself, yet doomed to watch people accept it at her hands.
Her hands...
She looked down at them, glowing in the pale moonlight. Painful age spots and wrinkles formed under her gaze, her fingers bending at odd angles, against the grain of her bone. She could no longer form a fist.
She was growing fearful now. In moments, she would be a pile of dust—somehow still living despite being nonhuman. Where was the Daemon? Where was her youth?
"Your Darkness, Master and Deity," her gruff voice breaks the still silence, "your payment awaits, why must you torture me so?"
It lets out a laugh. It's closer than she'd thought, just behind her. The hot sticky breath now steaming against her neck and ears. She dares not flinch, but she cannot hide the shiver that travels up her spine, as if It's tracing Its cold bony finger along her collapsing vertebrae.
"You take me for a fool, Mortal?" It bellows. "Even after all these years, even when you know your life is completely in my hands... You still try your hand at a trick?"
Her knees shake, the bones weakening with age under her weight; her mouth runs dry, the teeth cracking and turning into gritty sand that she hasn't the strength to swallow; her brain pools and scatters and spazzes.
"No! I've done my part, Being. She is there..." She can barely muster the words.
Seconds tick by.
One... By one... By one... By one...
The presence is still there, just behind her, the coldness stealing the air from her lungs.
"Yes..." His voice scratches at the silence with razor-sharp claws, "A girl, I see, a virgin I do not."
Her heart stammers in her chest. She shakes her head. That cannot be. It cannot!
"No, you have it wrong. She is innocent, as innocent as the nuns, as virtuous as an angel—"
It laughs; the horrid noise making her blood run cold and drip down her dissolving nose and eyes. It seeps out of the crevices of her fingernails, through the follicles of her scalp, out of the canals of her ears.
"Indeed she is, but a virgin, still, she is not." Its lips move against her ears. Somehow closing in all around her. She's trapped between it and the countertop.
Her breath catches. Its body: so cold it burns her skin instantly, so inhuman she can't bear to think what It must look like, what form It has taken.
She has to think fast, but her brain won't cooperate.
"I can find one, I will find and kill another."
It laughs again, the piercing sound echoing right through her ears, right to her brain, as if It can read her thoughts, as if they really are intertwined for all eternity. The two of them one entity.
"Indeed you could, Mortal. You have yet to disappoint. But there is a problem you don't dare fathom."
She can barely form a plea for mercy. Her body is stiff, frozen, and completely out of her control. She is but a pawn to It, awaiting Its answer.
"You are out of time."
And so she was.
She crumbles beneath her powdered bones, disintegrating into nothingness before she—or what was left of her—falls to the floor, sending a mushroom cloud of dust into the still air. Her life, her pain still alive and withering in each particle scattered amongst the room, decorating all that it touches in shimmering garnet.
The daemon laughs to Itself. I watch for a moment before I look at Fallon. The glint of fear and betrayal is gone from her eyes. She's smiling up at me, relief pooling in her eyes.
"Hello." I greet.
She says nothing as she is a corpse.
"A brave witch you were, my dear, I heard you were destined for great things." I hesitated, "Forgive me... My lover dances with whims, and thus, changes paths, flirts with choices, twists fate. She means well on all nights but tonight."
Her spirit has much to say. I shush her at once. No time to be wasted.
"Follow me, and make haste. You're not getting any younger. Ha! Get it. Because your Grandma--ah, forget it. Probably too soon."
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BACK TO MASTERLIST? CLICK ╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ HERE
Thanks for reading! Don't forget to like, reblog, and/or comment if you liked or hated it. Spill the tea. Share your thoughts directly with the source (me.)
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slimeywooper · 1 year ago
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Labmas AU - Unintended Consequences
Chapter 9 Part 1 - Partner
Getting ready for work was all a blur to you, as your mind was only filled with possible interactions or rebuttals. Why are you so nervous? All you are going to do is talk to Colress. Even though he is your superior in Team Plasma, you never considered him above you as a person. He was more of a coworker that you had to listen to. But trying to convince him to give Kudari more freedom made you feel as if you were begging him for something, lowering yourself beneath him in the hopes he'd consider your request. You really didn't want to give off that kind of vibe, nor sound too desperate. There's no telling what he would have you do if he thought he could push you around. If you collect your thoughts and do as Nobori suggested, hopefully he would not attempt to take advantage of your empathy. Just try to refer to Kudari as an ongoing experiment. That's what will get him to, at the very least, listen to your proposal. You enter the reception area from the elevator, and when Colress spots you, he immediately pounces.
With a serious look he says, "(Y/N), I'm glad you're feeling better. We need to talk about yesterday. Come with me to one of the planning rooms, we can have some privacy there." He is giving off an energy that lets you know you are in trouble. Silently, you both go through the main door and travel passed the breakroom and personal suite, taking a left at the end of the hallway. Three doors are in front of you, which you could only assume lead to the planning rooms. Colress uses his tablet to open the door that's closest, and gestures for you to enter. Inside, it looks more like a corporate office meeting room than anything connected to a laboratory. There is a large table in the center with chairs all around it, a whiteboard in the back, and even a tiny bar with a coffee maker and assorted beverage supplies. "Please have a seat," he says while motioning towards the table. You pick a chair at random and he sits in the one next to you, repositioning it so he's facing you. Placing his tablet on the table, he starts his diatribe, "(Y/N), I know you've been through what must have been a terrifying experience, but I can't ignore that you deliberately disregarded what I told you to do. I heard you enter the generator room as I was descending the stairs. My presumption is that you immediately exited and went back. Why the hell didn't you listen to me? I specifically ordered you to go upstairs, where everyone else would be. Why, then, did you decide to sneak around in the dark? Have I not made clear enough my descriptions of Kudari?" He doesn't sound upset, but he holds a serious tone.
Going on the defensive, you assert, "It's because of what you told me about him that I went to find a place to hide. I figured he was a psychopath, and that surely he would be looking for the most amount of people to slaughter in order to sate his bloodlust."
Colress folds his arms, "This isn't a joke. You know nothing about him or what he's capable of. I know Nobori likely painted you a pretty picture of him, but the truth is he could have ripped you limb from limb."
The oddly specific mention of being ripped apart momentarily halts your reply, but you quickly find your voice again, "I'm not trying to make a joke. I was hiding to try and avoid him. He just so happened to enter the same room I was in so he could eat some batteries."
Colress' eyes narrow, "So the demon stole some batteries as well?! Of course he wouldn't fess up to it by his own righteousness." He shakes his head at the audacity.
It was now or never. You try to ease the topic in, "He can't take back what he's done. But, perhaps if he had a little more freedom—"
"No." It was a firm statement given with a blank expression.
You make another attempt, "Being locked up all the time is probably encouraging him to act out. He more than likely just wants—"
Cutting you off yet again, irritation beginning to show, he reprimands you, "I know what you're doing. It's not going to happen. Did Nobori put you up to this? Because if he did—"
"No!" you interrupt Colress this time. He glares at you with wide eyes in return. "Look, I'm not going to beg you, but hear me out. When first meeting him, I admit, I was petrified. But he told me something that made me realize he was much more than a horrifying monster." Colress tilts his head. You take this as an indication that he's listening. "He told me that he was the one responsible for the power going out. The only reason he gave was that he wanted to meet me. I don't know how the hell he did it. No one can get through most of these doors without a key card. But he found a way to get by the door locks and turn off the lights. All for something he thought would be fun."
Losing patience, Colress blurts out, "Get to the point."
Rushing to explain, you continue, "Imagine if he wanted something seriously. Not just for fun. Given enough incentive, he could do amazing things. He just needs to be convinced that working for something can be beneficial to him. If he could put that effort into helping with the various research conducted here, I have a feeling there would be a lot more work getting done. He's clearly brilliant, if—"
"Stop right there. I get what you're saying." Colress sighs through his nose. "Do you remember one of the first things I told you about Kudari? I initially wanted him to help in the laboratory. It was Kudari himself that made me realize that trusting him with any amount of responsibility was a mistake. He's not capable of concentrating for long periods of time."
"Well, neither am I and I still work here," you offer with a shrug.
Colress looks away from you, exasperated, before regaining his calm demeanor. "Very well. This could be interesting." A strange smile has formed on his face. "He's your problem now. You will be responsible for everything he does. I suggest keeping him on a tight leash. Don't let him distract you. If I see a dip in the effort you put in or the quality of your work, I will change my mind. And if he maims you in some way, Team Plasma will not be held responsible for your death and or medical bills, not that there will be anyone here that cares. He's all yours." Standing up and grabbing his tablet, he adds, "But, don't feel too overwhelmed. I'll only let him help you some of the time. I don't always have the stomach to put up with him." He heads toward the door.
"Really?" you ask hesitantly, not quite believing that he's agreed to this so easily.
Peering back over his shoulder, he gives you a cold look. "Changing your mind already? Come on. Let's go get him." Colress opens the door and steps out.
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countlessrealities · 6 months ago
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Vaggie's only answer to Vox's mocking urging was to smash the last device she had destroyed in even smaller pieces. She wasn't going to clean up, that was a given. He could do it himself, if he wanted to keep the streets of his shops neat and tidy.
She still took the time to shoot a glare in the direction of the screen the Radio Demon was talking to, for good measure, when he so rudely mentioned her vision issues. Oh, she could show just how well she could see with just one eye. All he had to do was showing up in person and playing the role of the moving target for her to hit. He would have found out quickly that she never missed.
From his part, Alastor kept splitting his attention between watching the former Exorcist's rampage and listening to whatever his rival kept babbling about. The picture box was being even more vexing than the usual that day and, useless to say, he wasn't thrilled about it. On one hand, it made him want to walk away a second time. On the other, however, he was also mildly curious about finding out what had gotten Vox's ego so inflated that day.
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"I'm sure you know this, but I feel like I must point out that you're playing with fire here, old pal," he talked back, his tone even more condescending than it had been before. If the idiot thought that he would be even just remotely impressed by this loud, foolish show of confidence, he was beyond mistaken. "What makes me wonder is whether or not you realise that that this isn't just any fire. It's holy fire. Do I need to spell out for you the consequences that getting burnt with it would entail?"
Oh, he would have loved to see it. The Media Demon pissing off Vaggie enough to cause her to march to the V-Tower, all wings and murderous intent. She might have not been as powerful as Adam, but he had no doubt that she would have dealt to his rival enough damage to last a whole eternity in Hell.
Perhaps he could make it happen. Or, even better, he could make Vox come out of his hiding place. It would have been about time the coward crawled out of his fortified hole.
"Is that supposed to be a pun? Or have you forgotten the basics of your mother language?" Came his next retort, crimson eyes moving fully back on the screen instead of "I'm more inclined to believe that it's the latter other than the former...How embarrassing."
Casually, Alastor lifted his free hand, checking his claws as if bored with the taunts he was being addressed. In truth, they were all rubbing off him the wrong way, because he didn't appreciate his failures being shoved in his face in such way, but that was something for him to know and for the rest of Hell to never find out.
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"Oh, please, go ahead! No need to hold yourself back on my account. Broadcast how important my intervention and contribution were in sparing their lives from yet another Extermination." He brought a hand to his chest, in a show of fake modesty. "Think about how many souls Adam might have ripped apart, if I hadn't been keeping him busy. All on my own."
Had he purposefully side-stepped the part where Vox had asked about the consequences of the injury had sustained? Perhaps, but once again, that was no one's business but his own.
"You know, old friend, I'm touched by your dedication! We're supposed to be enemies, and yet there you are, promoting me and my project. Is this you trying to offer another business proposal? Because I might even take the time to listen. It would be rude not to, since you're going out of your way with your praising!"
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*The TV headed demon had to admit, he was rightfully amused by Vaggie's reaction at the part where he basically made a big JOKE out of Pentious's noble sacrifice! (if you can call getting flashed onto by a burst of holy light in a mere instant NOBLE of course). Vox had never cared much for that slithering annoyance anywho, he couldn’t even hold up a simple espionage! AND IT HADN'T EVEN BEEN A DAY ETHER! And while Vox was very...VERY disappointed, he could not help but laugh his ass off at the mere sight of him being BLASTED into dust like it was nothing! Credit where it was due of course...at least he went out SHINING.* *Vox looked towards the Angel who...at the moment? was SMASHING up an area full of top quality VoxTek product! much to his irritation. But he tried paying it no mind! Vox ran one of the largest entertainment tech companies in the underworld! coupled with the fact that he had great demonic power that enables him to create more of his TV systems like a breath of fresh air, he didn’t seem all that worried.*
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["HA! Please, spare me the clear condescension Alastor! You think a FEW less broken Television systems are gonna start making me role against the ground BALLING like a new-born? I have WAY more where THOSE came from! Let little miss "guardian" over there vent as MUCH as her lack of depth perception can allow! I've got more than enough time to spark up a hearty CHAT with YOU here!"] *Vox clearly seemed to be in much higher spirits! that calm yet arrogant demeanour across his on-screen face display told Alastor much...Vox was happy about SOMETHING...but at the moment it seemed unclear as to what it could be. Vox grins wider at the sight of Vaggie dismantling the other TV sets with broken screens, circuits and wires all littered across the floor!* ["BE SURE TO CLEAN UP AFTER YOUR DONE!~ Most people consider littering to be a public misdemeanour! Though since we ARE in the underworld, I DOUBT anybody will care THAT much!~"]
*He laughed out loud! enjoying the chaotic nature of how she was unleashing her anger before he turns back towards the Radio Demon, with a large amused smile adorning his face in an attempt to match Alastor's signature grin!*
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["SO! Tell me Mr RADIO DEMON, What's the LATEST, Hmmm? still spending the entire duration of your afterlife recuperating after your HUMILIATING display of DEFEAT? I'd AXE if you were okay! but we BOTH know I'm none too cordial when YOUR in the picture~"]
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["Oh speaking of "PICTURE"! You REALLY should have seen yourself on live TV! I didn’t broadcast the whole thing in public! (YET) BUUUUT HohoHOOOooo BOY! Just IMAGING how every sinner in hell will react when THEY see just HOW utterly RAVAGED you were when Adam AXED your performance!!~ Now THAT is sure to wrack up ratings!~"] *Wait...Vox had recorded that WHOLE moment against Adam...and now he has it on standby?...talk about PETTY...but Vox seems to see it as a huge peace of entertainment value! and if it shakes up Alastor's reputation even a LITTLE?...all the BETTER~*
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@countlessrealities
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leviiattacks · 4 years ago
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May I request a Levi x Reader angst fic? Just barely any fluff, mostly angst going on lol. The reader is a traitor, formaly working for Marley, but betraying them in secret and putting their loyalty on Paradis. The reader is also a shifter and married to Levi for a couple of years. That love and care however is gone once readers identity is found. He truly despises them, insults them, maybe a bit violent with them, and outright tells them that they mean nothing to him anymore and hate them to bits. Readers punishment is to hand over her titan to Erwin, and they agree instantly, broken over everything, believing its all their fault. Once Erwin inherits Readers titan, he breaks down and screams, crying, because Reader was innocent the whole time. They never betrayed Paradis. Never killed anyone, never harmed anyone. They finaly know why they betrayed Marley, the abuse being to much for them, enough to just leave them behind for Paradis. Just... loving and caring as they all saw them. But now the damage is done. They wont come back, they're dead, believing that they died, hated and despised, with no one to mourn their death. Everyone regrets everything.
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author note :: i was thinking of leaving this in my drafts but i already wrote it and may as well post it. it didn’t end up going the way i hoped but yeah i hope it’s ok anon. anyways ANGST. ANGST, ANGST. as always i love feed back :-) ⟹ all of the headings with the years are just meant to mean it’s a different moment from that year so those moments don’t happen right after each other i hope that makes sense!! word count :: 7.2k warnings :: canon typical violence, death
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845, i.
Everything is falling in place when it shouldn't.
Sun never makes itself known in Liberio yet here it is shining down onto the bustling streets. You half expect for it to crash down and burn into the hundreds of civilians going about their daily business yet nothing of the sort happens. It's typical sunlight and you curse yourself silently for your sinister thoughts.
Secretly the voice at the back of your mind still whispers frantically but you don't wish to hear what it has to say. Instead you choose to drown it out with the sound of Zeke's voice. Finally deciding to pay attention to what it is he's been droning on about for the past ten minutes.
"Soon, soon, soon." He sighs dreamily looking a little delirious.
"Soon?"
Your question catches him off guard, he lightly shoves you with his elbow scoffing in annoyance.
"Did you sit here to not even listen to me?" He turns to take a sip of whisky and the hearty gulp he chugs shows his mild irritation. You assume he's been rambling on about Marley's plan to infiltrate Paradis. You have to admit that the idea of destroying those demons from the inside is amazingly well thought out. However it's all he's been able to discuss for the entire week now and frankly you're getting a little exhausted of it.
"I zoned out..." Quietly placing your glass back down onto the wooden counter you sigh closing your eyes. It's too early to be drinking and you don't trust Zeke enough to slip into ignorance and leave yourself vulnerable. Men are to not be trusted, especially Eldian men. The thought of Eldians triggers your flight of fight response, you want to shrivel up into a cocoon and never come out until the world is rid of the monsters. The lowest of the low, the dirt in between the crevices of Marleyan soldier's boots. That is what Eldian's are.
It's ironic coming from you, your entire family labelled as undesirable Eldians yourself but you, you know you're different. An honorary Marleyan is what you will become. What you are. The treacherous imps who are but an ocean away are the true evil.
Eyes flicking to Zeke he's lighting a cigar. Old habits die hard and he's yet to quit this self destructive custom of his. You couldn't care less if he chooses to cut his lifespan short by ten years, it's his own choice to make. A disgusting cowardly choice but it's a choice fit for an untamed man like him.
The Island Devils are said to be the bad apples but you can't help but stare at your fellow citizens from time to time and wonder what it is they could be hiding. If a demon slipped through the cracks you wouldn't be surprised. Sly in nature, persuasive in tone, that is how devils go about their daily lives alone The hymns they drilled into you all the way through elementary school echo and rebound in your mind.
Locking your bitter thoughts away you have to push yourself to not punt Zeke in the mouth when he teasingly blows a puff of hot smoke into your face.
Fingertips grazing with his he freezes at the sudden contact giving you the perfect opportunity to slip his cigar away and take it in between your lips. You allow for it to linger there but you aren't foolish enough to inhale its contents.
"Zeke, my dear friend. We shall soon be met with the fruits of our own labour but I assure you that discussing Marley's plan constantly will be of no benefit for you nor I."
The day you and Zeke had met had been at warrior training camp. Zeke was a miserable, unmotivated oaf. Always tripping and falling behind the rest of the warrior cadets. You felt rather bad for him, if you were born as unskilled as him you don't know what you would have made of yourself. Zeke, the only child of his parents ironically only ever ended up rising through the ranks after handing them over to the Marleyan government. His father and mother had been conspiring an escape plan but were executed immediately alongside their fellow team members once Zeke had outted them. Unexpectedly he was spared, the fact he turned on his own parents showed where his loyalties were. To his surprise, he was even allowed to continue his training with the other warriors - only this time everyone kept an increased distance away from him. The warriors weren't informed of what he had actually done but everyone had a gut feeling. Everyone apart from you stuck with that feeling. You thought strategically, If he were to become an enemy in the future you knew being close would come at your advantage.
The day you and Zeke had met your mother died, his mother passed away the same day. At least that's what he had told you.
The two of you bonded over the little things, told each other stories about your life at home. Reminisced about what it was you missed.
Then it all came crashing down the day Zeke confessed. The day he told you he killed his mother and father by handing them over to Marley. Your knees buckled underneath you, crashing the floor he tried to grab at you but you thrashed around in retaliation kicking and screaming not understanding why he did what he did. Yes, they were traitors but they were his parents and if the monster had the nerve to turn on the people who gave birth to him who's to say he wouldn't do the same to you or to Marley.
Zeke doesn't know it but ever since then you take the opportunity to sneak the occasional glance at him. Every single time you narrow your eyes in malice. If there's a man in Liberio who you don't trust in the slightest it's him, he must think the feud between the two of you from childhood has been put at rest but it hasn't.
Zeke takes another swig of his alcohol. On this occasion he downs it entirely slamming the glass down with vigour.
"ONE MORE GLASS BARTENDER!"
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846, i.
Another day of extensive training is about to end, your back is layered in uncomfortable layers of sweat and the same can be said for your forehead. Kneeling down in the under layer of the forest you're hidden waiting to strike. Going up against the elites is nerve-wracking but you're sure you can pull it off so long as you stay calm during this game of hunters against prey.
It's simple enough if you can conceal yourself and stay out of sight. The robust trees that surround you act as decent enough camouflage and your green cape paired with them lets you veil yourself, keeping you further into the foreground, blending into the environment.
No one will be able to catch you if they can't see you.
All of a sudden your previous thoughts are thrown away when you sense something in the atmosphere has changed, the hissing of the wind behind you isn't natural.
Turning to your side you don't bother to cover up the sound of leaves rustling and branches cracking, your priority is slipping away fast enough to hide again, a tug can be felt at your cloak and your reaction time barely covers for you, your gear fastens itself to a low enough tree branch and the descent is mind numbing. Your breakfast churns in your stomach but you ignore the uneasy feeling, leaping and diving wherever you find a small enough gap. You believe you can outrun your huntsman.
That is until you sneak a glance back and your muscles nearly tense up in pure astonishment, you've been kicked in the teeth just by the man's presence. Captain, Levi slinks behind you weaving through the gaps with increasing speed, he's gaining momentum and all the while his face stays relaxed, this isn't even his full effort.
Terrified you dart upwards and then left, a corner comes into view - Levi should assume you've turned into it and so you rashly choose to dart back down. Much to your hard luck you find that his senses are well adapted, the direction of the wind is enough for him to trace your whereabouts.
The pursuit resumes, and he stays disturbingly relentless.
Arm shooting to the right you think perhaps making it look like you're aiming to fly somewhere else again will completely catch him off guard, he can't expect for you to pull the same trick twice.
Setting your plan into motion your finger pulls at the trigger but you startle when the cable doesn't come out, it's jammed. Panic seeps into you and to make matters worse your gas is running out.
Without warning you're thrust into the body of a nearby tree, the bark scrapes against you and scratches begin to form anywhere you've made contact with the jagged surface, you want to admit defeat but the warrior inside of you denies Levi the pleasure of seeing you beg. In its place you deliver a harsh kick to his thigh, you're aware he's injured it and you're certain there are no rules to say you can't play dirty. Your boots hammer against leg hard enough for him to give out and let go of your body, but then you realize you lost this game from the very moment your grapple hooks broke, you have nowhere to hold onto.
Before you can even let out a shriek of horror Levi's shot back to you, he frantically accelerates and by a miracle humanity's strongest is able to grab a hold of you again. This time you don't dig your heels into his leg and you allow for him to clutch you by the torso.
Within a minute the two of you descend towards the forest floor and Levi throws you into the dirt furiously.
"You could have died. Being foolhardy will only lead to an early death." He barks as he directs his blade towards your neck.
"Am I dead yet?" Whispering back your gaze isn't trained on the blade but right up at him.
His nostrils flare up, his hair sticks to his forehead haphazardly and the knuckles that hold his pointed blades are white in tangled dissatisfaction.
Grabbing you by the hips he flings you over his shoulder choosing to not continue with the confrontation.
"I know what you're up to." His voice is still rugged from the pursuit and it takes you a split second to register what he's said.
Your eyes widen and your breath hitches in your throat, no way, there's no way in hell he knows. He's sharp but he's not a mind reader.
Your position means he can't read your face seeing as you're facing his back, instantly steeling your features you let out a breathy laugh.
"And what may that be?" Silently you pray he's worded himself ambiguously to catch a slip up.
"Being gutsy, you think that makes you a good soldier. It doesn't."
Relief floods you. He doesn't know.
"Soldiers need to be brave." Your retort makes him grumble.
"If  you die with no meaning by being reckless what's the purpose of being a soldier?" His question has you stopping and thinking on what the correct answer is.
Unable to think of an answer you ask another question.
"Are you saying your previous comrades died without meaning?"
"No. Their deaths fueled me slay more titans."
"So if I died back there who wou-" He swiftly cuts you off showing no inclination of wanting to hear what it is you have to say.
"I'll cut your tongue off if it's stupid." He clearly isn't serious about the threat but he does mean it when he warns you to not overstep.
Despite the consequences you say what's on your mind. "I just wanted to ask who would give my life meaning if I ever died. I don't have siblings and my parents died long ago."
Silence follows and the crunch of his boots against the muddy leaves tells you he probably doesn't wish to answer your question.
"Sorry-"
"I would. I would give meaning to your life." He says it with such ease you almost want to admire the enemy but you know he's said it because he feels he has to.
"You barely know me but I hope one day you can stop thinking everyone has to rely on you." You say it with taunting understanding.
Another bout of silence follows. Only this time the two of you feel warmly comforted, he doesn't understand how you've seen through his facade but it's easy for you to spot another liar.
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846, ii.
Brows drawn back you observe your surroundings attempting to mask your scrutiny. The place is running amok with uncontrollable Eldian folk. The stench of unadulterated sin makes itself known but you seem to be the only person able to smell it. Eren bumps against the table you're sat at and your face twitches a little but you say nothing. You're yet to get used to these people's lack of manners.
At least that's how you force yourself to think. To be truthful, you don't quite understand what it is these people have done wrong. Ever since you've arrived you've been nitpicking at every single minor inconvenience or possible issue. A girl stole a potato and broke it into uneven pieces to share and you attempted to twist the story in your head to make her look like an unfair, greedy voracious demon but... you found yourself finding very little to actually be angry at. These people are essentially normal in every way of the word, they aren't demons and you can't help but feel yourself slip away from everything you once knew as reality. You're finding it difficult to believe what years of Marleyan education taught you, the hymns that were once drilled into your brain permanently are but a vague memory.
You feel disgustingly under-dressed and out of place, you don't belong here not when you're meant to hate these people, not when you're meant to despise them. You should be fighting the urge to shove their heads onto pitchforks or to skin them alive and feed them to pigs. Everyone back in Marley told you to control your impulses but now you're here and you've settled down even having the opportunity to converse with these individuals, share their pain, share their loss, share their suffering, you wonder why you have no impulses to control. Have they brainwashed you? Or is it that you're the real demon in this situation?
Fingers mingling with each other on your lap you sit hopelessly alone. Interacting with the so called enemy is much harder than you expect. Worry consistently bubbles in the pit of your stomach and every night is spent tossing and turning evaluating then reevaluating who the bad guy really is. At first the task of daily interaction isn't a big deal, you find it easy enough to approach members of the team and fake interest in their lives until the original plan falls through. You do become invested in your team members lives and stories that it comes to the point where you don't have to force yourself to smile at their jokes or to sympathize with their tales of grief. You become one of them and you swear you're meant to feel like a traitor but eerily you feel like you belong.
Nevertheless you try your best to stick with what you know. You're nothing like Zeke, you're loyal, capable, faithful and trustworthy. Never will you turn your back on Marley.
Rising to excuse yourself from dinner you think you've just about made it and escaped finally able to hide away in the confines of your bedroom but your lips form into a straight uncomfortable line at the feeling of someone's hand latching at your wrist. You're halfway down the hallway just a few more steps away from your bedroom. You hope it's one of the rookies.
"Oi, come here."
Head shooting backwards your eyes land on Levi, his dark curtains fall in front of his eyes - you note that he hasn't trimmed them as he usually does. Despite his size his grip is firm and your wrist squirms around a little trying to manoeuvre out of his bruising grasp. He seems to notice he's underestimated his strength once again and loosens his hold on you. Narrowed eyes analyse your anxious form, they're grey and in this lighting almost glow appearing silver. For a brief second your mouth is left ajar by the delicate but rough manner of his face.
"Everything Okay?" He doesn't typically seem to care very much about anyone, the question activates your senses and you're on full alert but the eye contact you make with him seconds later slows down the gears in your mind, they only whir and hum in anticipation completely coming to a halt.
"Yes, yes everything is okay." You're playing around with the hem of your shirt and you silently question when you were ever this nervous around anyone. You're a Marleyan soldier for heaven's sake not an unrestrained, unsupervised child left to play in a park.
Despite your clear inability to cushion and shield yourself from your Levi's stabbing gaze you attempt to appear as nonchalant as possible.
"I'll be going I just feel a little —" At first you had thought to fake you were ill but at the feeling of a sudden strike of pain you hold onto your stomach, the ache burns into your abdomen and without permission it travels higher up towards your ribs. "A little unwell." You manage to wheeze out. Hand placed onto a nearby cement wall your thought process is hasty speeding up by the second. Have they figured you out and had you poisoned? No, you barely ate anything today.
You hunch over feeling the bile crawl up your throat, on reflex you clamp your eyes shut not wishing to anger a superior by acting insolent and disposing of your dinner in the hallway. Shaky palms reach hesitantly for your lips and you force yourself to keep it in. Levi would commit a murder if you heaved and gagged letting it all out in front of him.
You motion towards the door trying to emphasize that you can handle yourself in the privacy of your room. Tears bite at the sides of your eyes and your vision is so blurred you can only make out the faint outline of the man who was just in front of you.
"Relax. I'll clean it." Your hair is brushed away from your face securely held back and you can't hold it in any longer, the acrid storm surges through your throat, you retch at the harsh sting it leaves behind. Breathing heavy, perturbed and anxious you gasp in all the air you can get.
"I knew you looked ill." His hands hold your jaw gently, the pads of his fingers are calloused but his touch remains soft. A tissue dabs at your mouth wiping away the excess untouched sick.
Just like the sick which surged through you less than a minute ago you feel something else entirely tear into you. You can't put a finger on it but it's dangerous for you to not feel contempt.
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847, i.
Your heart accepts what your mind has been ignoring for months on end when Levi looks you square in the eyes after a heart wrenching expedition. The vacant look on his face is enough for the guilt to consume you whole but he doesn't know that. He doesn't know of your sins.
The wagon of corpses reeks of death and desperation. It's rotten and the smell is sickening. Forcibly you  stop yourself from feeling any more grief. The despair isn't yours to go through.
Your first ever personal loss outside of the walls and you've learnt Paradis is not home to demons. Cheeks burning in mortification you can't formulate any thoughts on your own accord, instead they continuously emerge in bursts and finally a single thought sticks out from the rest - Are you aiding in the destruction of innocent human life?
The both of you are sat on guard duty with the corpses, half of the team has been wiped out in one sweep. Your trembling hands don't seem to want to steady any time soon and you sit there with your guilty conscience strangling you slowly, your airflow is getting shallower. Shorter, quicker breaths leave you. The imaginary gash in your chest is bottomless, and your lungs push and pull in a power struggle.
Levi's coarse hands abruptly hold onto yours and the floodgates open again, he doesn't know what you've done to him, done to his soldiers, done to his people. If he knew who you really were, would things be different?
"This was out of your control."
Do you tell him?
The question sits in your mind for a while until you shake your head. He takes it the wrong way and think you're responding to him.
"This was not your fault." For the first time in months you've heard his voice crack under pressure.
"Pe- Petra she- I could have taken one for the team and died instead of her." All that remains of your dear friend is her blood soaked cloak. Her body was one of the few that had to be hauled away earlier to decrease the carriage's load.
The fabric still smells of Petra, smells of honey and chamomile and the simple soap offered at the base, but it still smells of her.
Firm hands grab your shoulders and Levi's fingers dig sorely into your flesh.
"Don't."
"But I- I didn't contribute as much as her and she has family who are alive." Hiccuping you try to bare with the fact that you'll wake up tomorrow and not see her preparing breakfast for everyone else. You know you could have propelled her out of the way just in time if you hadn't been so taken aback by the entire situation.
"You were her comrade. She made the choice to die for you."
You want to reach out, sob into his chest and yell that you regret it all, scream and tell him about the secret you've been hiding. A sorry excuse of a comrade you are to let her die on the battlefield not knowing your true identity. The tears roll down your cheeks and Levi feels his heart constrict and squeeze as he comprehends the lack of regard you have for your life. "It should have been me." Is repeated over and over again, your eyes are raw and bloodshot, the vicious wind sinks its teeth into you.
"Then die."
"If you're willing for her life to have no meaning. Die." The words he spits out are as cutting as the bitter wind. He feels cheated and you're finally able to come to your senses.
He's faired much worse but you doubt he's ever acted out the way you have in front of another person. In this never-ending void of darkness locking away the dull ache caused by deafening loss is the best choice for everyone.
Much like the night you had been sick he takes a grip of your jaw and directs your face towards his, this time he's not as gentle as before but you conclude that it's because he's drained, completely exhausted from the battle. The eyes are the windows to the soul but Levi's window panes are shattered, completely crushed by the weight of the constant burden he has to carry.
"I'm sorry." You croak out the apology. He grits his teeth because he doesn't want you to apologize but he doesn't voice out his opinion. As a substitute he presses his arms against you, the terribly raw panic is murdering you. Levi's gruff voice is a mixture of faux irritation but mutual understanding.
"Cry." He allows for your head to loll against his shoulder.
As the dark envelopes both you and him the scent of the dead only becomes more and more pungent, recalling fond memories of Petra and the others you know your heart settles on a decision before your mind does. You're a two timing back stabbing traitor for this. What you hated Zeke for you have become yourself.
Disloyal, unfaithful and fickle.
That day you place your loyalties with Paradis.
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847, ii.
Levi's wiping down one of the kitchen tables, you're kneeled on the floor scrubbing vigorously. The others have already given up, panting they've left using the excuse of fetching water from a nearby well. Your back aches but you find cleaning reassuring and somewhat of a decent distraction.
"Why do you like to clean?" You're used to Levi asking you abrupt questions by now, after all the two of you have been acquainted for well over a year now. Through that year he's learnt about you and you about him. When in the midst of what looks to be humanity's final year's, twelve simple months is enough to form a bond worth a decade.
"I'm not good at a lot but I am good at cleaning."
"You know that's not true idiot." The tone of his voice indicates that your answer doesn't please him.
"But I do think I'm good at cleaning? Maybe not as good as you but I am half decent."
"Not that. You're good at much more than half the people I've ever met." He sneers, his footsteps edge towards you. "Purely being a good person is a talent these days."
You suppress a flinch because you aren't a good person at all. Neither are you that middle ground between good and bad. Rough around the edges and uneven, you're shards of glass ready to slash and hack away at him if Marley somehow lures you back.
The confession, if you could even call it that catches you by surprise and anger fills you. You almost want for him to not trust you and call out your bluff. It's a little unnatural how badly you want for him to realize the truth.
Your head turns up to stare at the man who's a few steps away from you. "Or am I just good at acting genuine?"
You don't even mean to snap at him and you don't even realize you have until you see his eyes widen and mouth part in imperceptible surprise. Biting your tongue your attention is diverted back to the wooden floor. Driving your washcloth into the crevices and dips of the floorboards you ignore Levi's leather shoes which now stand right in front of you.
"Are you questioning my judgement of character?"
Be born in Marley, That's what you had done, trained to destroy people you thought to be devilish entities, foolishly chose to grow attached to the so called enemy. Your mind lingers onto a specific thought and you're deathly afraid to be thinking it in the first place but there's no more avoiding it.
Falling deeply in love with Levi is your worst mistake to date.
"What I did. It was out of my control." you reply, voice hard.
"Not disclosing what it was?" He asks.
Your silence is his answer. Kneeling down to where you are he disarms you, the washcloth is taken out of your hands and he places it onto a table.
"You are a good person." His voice is brusque and he states it like it's a fact, something you should know. Hot tears threaten to spill over, he's stupidly naive for not rethinking that opinion of his. Lips thinned and eyes watering you don't know how to feel.
"Levi. I'm sure you'd like to think that but I am not."
"You love the members of the corps unconditionally I can see it in the way you look at them."
"Sometimes you look a little sad when you stare." The last sentence he adds in has your pulse racing. He's right, you often feel miserable thinking about how everyone would react knowing who you really are.
"I'm not interested in bad people." He sounds distant saying such warm words and it takes a moment for them to actually sink in. You don't quite believe you've heard him correctly. The dread sinks to the bottom of your stomach and the feelings you've buried at the back of your mind hit you like a tsunami. The thought of him feeling the same way for you, is agonizing.
"Stop being ridiculous." The uncertainty is killing the both of you.
"Loving you is not ridiculous, if you don't feel the same way you can say that and I'll step away. We'll be back to normal."
"No, no, no. You don't get it. You're just saying that." Your voice quivers and the intensity of this new revelation is too large for you to cope with.
"Why would, you," He begins, voice just above a whisper, "ever think that way?"
"Why would you even look twice at me?" You reply.
"Because I worry for you."
"You worry for everyone."
"I worry for you the most."
Instead of letting you respond to him this time he carries on speaking.
"We both know we feel the same."
You already knew you were in love with Levi, you didn’t need for him to tell you. You knew you were in love when you tried to memorize his facial features, you knew you were in love when his laughter was the cause of your laughter, you knew you were in love when you threw yourself in front of that abnormal for him.
That's when you begin to understand what all his signals meant. You now knew why he'd let you stare so intently, you now knew why he laughed particularly hard when it was you who had made a joke, you now knew why he scolded you and nearly broke down at the sight of your injured arm after that specific expedition.
You know it. He knows it. You both know what this will lead to.
But you still lunge onto his lap, you still press your wobbly lips against his. You still choose to surrender yourself to him and he still reacts by taking a hold of your shaky hands which lay on his chest. He envelopes them in his warm grasp. Slowly but gradually the ice thaws and dissolves. Heartbreak, anguish and suffering when one of you loses the other will be the end of your romance, you're sure of it. Hell, the both of you are in the middle of a war but your heart flames up thinking of all of the possibilities.
Perhaps it'll play out the one way you wish for it not to.
Could your ending be in betrayal?
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848, i.
"Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded hus-"
"Cut the crap and kiss me." Levi's crude interruption isn't appreciated by Erwin but everyone knows Levi doesn't care all that much for formalities and hates being in the spotlight for too long.
Gripping him by the collar of his suit your lips are a centimetre away, he stops you tightening the hold he has on your waist. His lips gently press against your collarbone and his breath meanders towards the shell of your ear.
"Swear you won't die on me."
Gulping you look away apprehensively. You know you can't promise that.
“Oi, I’m expecting an answer.” His voice flickers slightly.
Forefinger holding your chin up you see your soon to be husband close to tears, he valiantly blinks them away. Levi has never been one to make his pain public and your heart twists in your chest as you realize just how much of a hold his feelings for you have over him.
"I can't promise that, you know it'll only hurt more." The strange bitter taste in your mouth won't let you comply with his request and by measuring his reaction you see his eyes cloud in an unidentifiable emotion, you're sure it's nothing positive.
"We may not have a happy ending Levi but we'll always have a happy middle."
Levi scoffs in derision, he has to think your attempt at being meaningful is ridiculous.
You lean into him and it's all so heart-wrenchingly familiar yet foreign. His body sags comprehending that not everything will go the way he wants it to. One of you is guaranteed to leave first.
Hands finding purchase in the cloth of his white dress shirt Levi doesn't cringe at you creasing the fabric as he usually does. He allows for you to call the shots this time, your lips brush faintly against his before you nosedive into him. No resistance is felt and he replies almost immediately. Everyone applauds as his fingertips press into the back of your skull and you find that this is all incredibly hideous. The innate disloyalty you feel, you throwing your entire life away for this man but you find yourself not caring. To hell with that miserable life crammed with sin.
Levi smiles against your mouth, you assume you're meant to magically smile back but you can't make yourself. It's uncomfortable relishing in the undeserved happiness knowing it won't last forever.
The world you live in isn't ideal nor is it forgiving.
Momentary joy is all an antagonist can hope for.
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849, i.
Jean can’t take his eyes off the newly weds.
You’re cooing into your Levi’s ear gently, his cheeks flush scarlet at the feeling of your hot breath against his skin and he scolds you for having the gall to rile him up in public.
Jean sniggers finding some sort of odd delight from the interaction - he’s never seen the Captain this content and at ease.
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849, ii.
You don't know why you've dragged yourself out of bed just to stare at your husband's face but you have, despite the toll life has had on him he seems sound for once. His breathing peaceful yours is anything but that. When it's dark the weight becomes heavier, your skin tingles and your throat burns aching for release.
Eyes blurring your hands shake reaching out for him but you can't find the courage to make contact. Nothing will ever warrant plaguing him even more with your existence.
The memories become increasingly bitter.
"If we make it out of this alive we'll have children and they'll look just like you."
"I want them to look like you." had been your reply.
Levi winced not seeming to like the idea.
"No, I want them to look like you. You're beautiful."
How wrong he was for thinking that.
You, beautiful? He'd stab himself ten times over if he knew just who exactly he had said those words to.
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850, i.
Zeke had betrayed you after finding out who you were to Levi but you half expected that he would tell him the truth at some point regardless of that fact.
Tear stains travel through the mud and grime on your face, Levi's eyes are indifferent as he twists his wedding ring off his finger flinging it into the surrounding rubble.
Without your permission he yanks your arm forwards intending to take your matching ring away but you hold on digging your heels into the dirt beneath you.
"You disgusting bitch. Give me it."
You scream, high and awful, he continues jerking at your arm the muscle throbs crying out for him to stop but he doesn't and no one steps in to put a halt to any of it. Levi having had enough grabs at your neck ruthlessly. In any other circumstance he'd be labelled callous or cruel but everyone on the battle field shares a similar empathy for their Captain. Neither they or Levi had expected your disloyalty.
"I said give me the ring if you know what's good for you." His fingers slide around your neck, his seemingly low words cling onto the little respect he has left for you.
"No." Your defiance has his eyes hardening in and posture tensing. "I'm not handing it over."
Levi says nothing, he only holds onto your throat tighter, if he really keeps at  it your windpipe will be crushed in no time. You know he's holding out on purpose, he's still giving you a chance. He expects for you to stand your ground, say you never deceived Paradis, say something, anything to make him let go of you.  
"Marrying you... It just happened somehow. I know it was selfish of me." He squeezes harder. "I know it was. I'm sorry Levi." Gasping and breathless you clench and unclench your fists finding it too difficult to explain.
Your mouth opens, you want to tell him you haven't seduced him like he thinks you have, tell him you dropped that plan of yours long ago but then you falter at the last second.  It's typically hard to tell when Erwin's infuriated but it's painfully obvious when you make eye contact with him over Levi's trembling shoulders. It's enough to tell you to give up. Enough to tell you that you're beyond redemption, you've ran and hid long enough.
"Hand over your titan." Levi says nothing to Erwin's proposition, the hold he has on your neck loosens but his silence is sickening. It means he agrees.
This is fate's idea of a cruel joke.
But you agree, on the basis of one condition.
"Fine but-"
Levi cuts in, all regard for you devoid from his system.
"You're in no place to be making demands." He snarls, his patience quickly running thin.
However Erwin urges you to continue speaking taking you aback.
"If it's not too much maybe we can accommodate your final wish." Erwin had always been thoughtful in nature and you thank him for even bothering to show you a sliver of benevolence.
Everyone's looking, all eyes are on you. Some are blinking away tears, others are disgusted unable to stare at you for more than a few seconds at a time. Levi falls into the latter.
Brazen with not an ounce of shame you mention the ring again. "Let me keep it." Your left hand covers your right and underneath the flesh is the last symbol left of your union with Levi.
Whispers and murmurs orbit you, none of them are kind and Levi loses it.
His reflexes are paralyzing, he's back at it clawing your neck mercilessly but you don't scream or shriek as you did previously. You take it, you let him unload his frustration.
"Levi. Let it go for the sake of humanity." Erwin says pointedly. Irritation pricks him, he wants this over and done with and your rebelliousness doesn't look as if it'll be tamed any time soon unless you're given what you want.
Levi's face is crimson, the fresh blood from the expedition still steaming. "Y/N, I'll saw your arm off if I have to." But, you know he's already given into Erwin's orders when he throws you to the ground letting you crash and wheeze for breath.
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850, ii.
Levi's been appointed to guard you for your final night alive. The room feels wistful as you think back wondering if the life you lived was respectable.
"Why did you stare at me when I slept? Did you think of killing me?" Half commanding and half pleading his voice cracks. He coughs attempting to cover it up.
You jolt not expecting the interaction at all and you're not the slightest bit surprised that he had seen you all those nights staring so deeply. He'd always been a light sleeper. You turn your head up hoping he's looking at you.
He isn't.
"I wanted our children to look like you. I think you're beautiful."
It's now his turn to recoil, only he does so in repulsion remembering the familiarity of those words. They had left his own lips not too long ago.
"I'd never have children with the likes of you." He sounds tense then.
You understand. No one would want to have children with someone as hated and as despicable as you.
"I know." You whisper faintly.
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850, iii.
When Erwin's eyes glaze over unable to focus on anything in particular Levi assumes it's him growing used to the titan powers. What he doesn't expect is for his Commander to bang his head against the floor unrelenting screaming your name.
Pairs of hands move to stop him but he thrusts them aside wailing. Levi stresses trying to figure out what it is you could have done in the wake of your death.
But Erwin Smith. Courageous, brave Erwin Smith, who never cracked at loss of life for the sake of humanity, who always eloquently spoke to everyone around him at all times, finds himself slumping down to his knees and weeping for you.
The warm blood from his self inflicted assault still trickles down his nose, a tremor shakes through his entire body when he thinks of breaking the news to Levi.
The edge in Erwin’s voice grows dangerous.
"We made the wrong choice."
Erwin can't word it any better than that.
But Levi understands right away, he wishes he didn’t, he wishes he was ignorant enough not to.
Hange sticks an arm out aiming for his shoulder but he stumbles away nearly falling back into the floor not wanting to be touched by anyone.
He finds that he is not human enough to cry. It’s that or he’s not human at all without your presence.
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854, i.
Levi has grown old without you, lived to see months and new seasons without you by his side. Over time his eyelids have become heavier, the corners of his mouth naturally droop and he remains perpetually somber.
Sometimes you visit him in his dreams, each time you make a silly comment about how his grey eye bags make him look like he’s been punched in the face. “Levi Ackerman, I swear if you don’t sleep soon!” You cushion the blow by whispering sweet nothings, reassuring him that you still think he’s beautiful. 
Occasionally you add in that you don’t blame him for the past, but those conversations only last for a few seconds at a time.
“I don’t blame you.” It always starts off with the exact same phrase. 
“I should have listened to you.” Levi’s tone is stern and uncompromising .
“Lev, I was never going to tell you to spare my life. You tried to listen to me, I could tell you wanted me to deny it.”
Levi refuses to answer you, he still thinks he’s at fault.
Not a day goes by where he doesn’t think of that ring. He regrets throwing it away recklessly into the rubble.
Some day he’ll return to Shiganshina to find it. The idea sounds laughable but he has to find a reason to smile as he fights for his life.
That is what Levi thinks as two set’s of jaws snap shut onto his legs, a flurry of red surrounds him. His throat constricts at the feeling of his thighs being ripped away from the rest of him.
“I tried.” He whimpers to no one in particular, eyes blank and losing meaning.
“I know Levi, I know.” The same voice from his dreams soothes him.
“Do not despair. Find me again in another world.” The biting wind adds in.
Levi’s eyelids flutter shut unable to do much else.
He’s unsure if he has the courage to face you again in another lifetime.
2K notes · View notes
randynova · 3 years ago
Note
Poor Petal, she must have had a panic attack when she found out she was pregnant for the first time.
She was downright terrified.
She broke down crying, screaming into her pillow, refusing to let Doma hold or console her. Surprisingly, he left her alone, letting her deal with her emotions on her own.
The only words he left her was, "Oh, [Name], I'm so happy. Soon, we're going to be parents, my sweet pretty petal!"
[Name] just couldn't understand how this happened. She was careful, so diligent in taking the tea every night. She began racking her mind, trying to make sense of it all, and search for a possibility why this small mistake occurred.
Until she recalled two months prior, where Doma's insatiable hunger for his wife consumed him. Like an animal in heat, he forced himself on her, ignoring her pleas to stop, releasing his fertile seed deep into her womb. Over and over again, he made sure every night she was filled with his cum, having the sole mission to make her bear his children.
✦✦✦ ✦✦✦
Doma had to travel southward for demon duties and he felt this was the perfect opportunity for you both to get closer. A whole week together, all alone while he was free from his duties, a chance to finally have some quality bonding time without his cult. It was a dream come true.
However, this place was in the middle of nowhere, hardly any villages, let alone stores, around. All the sources you used to protect yourself from Doma were gone, the foods and teas you consumed to prevent a pregnancy out of reach.
The only people around were fellow upper moons, who stayed far away from your husband, especially you.
Thus, you were forced to endure his doting behavior, forced to play his dangerous games, and forced to let him breed you.
✦✦✦ ✦✦✦
"Pretty petal. So pretty, so beautiful. You're taking me so well, hah," Doma laughs, snapping his hips harshly, thick balls slapping against your skin. You bounced with every thrust, mewling and whimpering, begging him to slow down. It only stirred him on to go faster. "No, no, no, this is the best way to ensure maximum success with fertilizing you. I have to make sure my seed is as deep as possible inside you, my petal!"
The aching between your legs grew, arching your back as an orgasm washes over you once again. Your juices release over his thick cock, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your velvet walls constrict around him. "Ah! Ah, D-Doma!"
"Mm, hngh! P-petal! Petal! Petal! " Doma whines out, biting his bottom lip, grinning like a madman as the sweet relief of climax fast approaches him. His thrusts turn sloppy and his hips stutter. Quickly, he pulls out and leaves you feeling empty for a few seconds. He grabs your legs, hooking his arms around your knees, and pushes your thighs to your chest, claws digging into your plush skin as he starts to hammer into you. "So-so good! Such a good girl! You'll be such a good mother, sweet petal! Just you wait! I'll make you a mommy, ok? Just- fuck!"
He releases long, thick ropes of cum, painting your womb white with his fertile seed once more. He thrusts weakly, head falling back as he gasps. "Mm, ah-ah, [N-Name]...!" You squeeze your eyes shut, looking to the side, swallowing bitterly as he fills you to the brim, cum leaking out as he slides in and out. It drips onto the bed, staining the pristine, red cotton sheets.
"Oh, petal, please don't look away. I want to see you," Doma croons, pulling out with a shaky breath and looking down at the mess between your legs with a grin. White painted the sheets below like a puddle. He pulls out with a groan. Seeing the way your pussy gushes out his cum, flexing around nothing, it makes him want to take you all over again. He slides two fingers up across your folds, gathering his seed, and pushing it back into your sopping hole with his fingertips. He hums whilsts you whine, rocking your hips at the weird sensation. "Such a pretty sight, you took me so well, petal. I'm so proud of you!"
He's met with silence. Though, it doesn't bother him as he already fulfilled his task for the night. After five long rounds, he believes its enough for the day and he'll repeat the process tomorrow. For now, both of you need rest, we'll, mainly you if you're going to stay awake during the whole ordeal.
You were in a daze as Doma cleaned both you and himself up, changing the sheets into soft clean ones, and covering your body with the blankets, tucking it in.
"Good night, my pretty wife," Doma whispers, taking his spot beside you, his arms slithering around your frame and pulling you close. His chest pressed against your nude back, his legs tangling in yours, and he buried his face in your hair, taking a deep breath of your sweet aroma. "I love you..."
✦✦✦ ✦✦✦
Immediately after coming back from your journey, Doma became busy, his schedule packed to the brim with orders from his master. It irritated him, saddened him even, that he would be apart from you for a while.
As much as he loved ravishing your body every night, he had to focus on completing every task with precise accuracy. He doesn't want to disappoint his master after all.
But before he left you alone the first night back, he replaced your assigned follower with a different one. One that reported back to him and carried out his orders, their loyalty to the demon overriding their morals to protect you.
He wasn't stupid. It didn't take long for him to figure out the tea you drank prevented you from becoming pregnant, a huge change to the tea he got to make you fertile. The news did upset him, but he hid the discovery and played along with your little antics. It made him try to come up with a solution, where he disguised the tea you drank to better fit his wishes.
Like an unsuspecting mouse, you walked right into the cat's claws.
Anyone who tried helping you was either eaten by Doma or killed by him in another manner. If the actions of a stupid, disloyal follower was keeping him away from his dream of having a family, the demon won't hesitate to get rid of them. They should know better.
Doma's dreams are his followers' orders.
If he says he dreamt of eating a hundred virgins, his followers should offer him the bountiful feast of meat from a hundred virgins.
If he says he dreamt of growing his cult, his followers should go out and recruit people to join them.
Now, if he says he dreams of a child with his wife, his followers should offer their help and make sure he gets his child.
By god, did they live up to his expectations for once. Everyone - from the ones who prepared your meals to the new members who brought you gifts - made sure every small action built up to the final wish of their leader's plan.
Every food and drink you consumed had been carefully chosen to help make you plump and help the baby grow. Every bath had been filled with excotic herbs to soothe your changing body. Every offering had slowly been gearing towards a human smaller than you. Yet, you never really paid attention to the small differences.
Doma noticed how tired you seem lately, how you complained to the follower assigned to you about the tenderness of your breast and the pain of your abdominal and pelvis area, and even how different you looked, almost glowing.
At first, he didn't put the pieces together. Surely all women were like this, right? Yet, that wasn't the case.
He found himself always wondering why your emotions were easily more unhinged, why you ate the foods he hand-fed you more easily, or why you were napping in the afternoon. Yes, he liked these changes and welcomed them eagerly, believing you were finally warming up to him. But why?
After nearly six weeks, you were worried why your period didn't come. You speculated the stress could have been a prominent factor in causing your late cycle, sometimes occurring in your youth. You seem bloated lately as well, you note, or it could've been weight gain due to the food you have been eating lately. Thus you brushed it off.
It'll come soon, you just know it. Afterall, you're still a human and change is a part of life.
In another area of the temple, a different situation was unfolding. When the trusted follower reported to Doma about your very late menstrual cycle, he clapped with joy like a child being entertained. Of course! How slow can he be?! You finally are carrying his child! The hormonal changes affected how you behaved with him and the sudden weight gain explained it all.
Oh, he just couldn't wait for the day to come!
However...
He had to make sure you did nothing irresponsible to push back his dream.
Doma became more strict and possessive with you. He didn't let you go anywhere alone. Even if you were in the privacy of your room, someone had to be there.
The days where you spent waiting for him in your bedroom were now spent at his side. He forced you to sit on his lap like before, feeding you more than you're used to. Any question concerning his increase of doting behavior was met with a laugh and a kiss to your cheek. "I just love you so much, I want you to be healthy!"
Doma isn't stupid. He knew the moment he mentioned, or even insinuated, you were pregnant, you would break down and possibly affect the baby negatively. He didn't know if you were capable of taking drastic measures of getting rid of it this far along, but he didn't want to find out.
With careful, watchful eyes, Doma made sure everyday you were fed well, that you were always protected, and made sure nothing upset you. He went the extra mile to find medicine and herbs incase you ever fell ill. The demon made sure your attention was always occupied to keep from noticing your changing body.
To say it worked was an understatement.
By the fifth month, you realized despite your growing stomach, you weren't gaining weight anywhere else. Most of your clothes fit like a glove except around your abdomen.
Your heart began to race as you wracked your mind of the events for the past few months.
When was the last time you had gotten your period?
You don't recall changing your sheets every month because you stained it, nor do you recall dealing with the hassle of keeping yourself clean. Come to think of it, you felt at ease these past few months, the usual cramps and cravings you felt no longer bothering you like before.
Ridding yourself of your clothes, slipping your kimono off until you're left in your undergarments of hadajyuban and susuyoke. You undid your sash and revealed your stomach. You're met with the sight of your bulging tummy and tender breasts. Pressing a finger pad to the skin of your stomach, it seemed firm instead of soft and plush. With a shaky breath, you pressed your palms against your stomach and...
Kick. Kick.
You removed your hands immediately, face falling. No...
No. No! No! No!
How didn't you notice it before!?
Your chest fell and rose quickly with every breath you took, hyperventilating as the situation dawned on you. You were pregnant. Actually pregnant with that damn demon's child. A bellowing scream ripped from your throat, the high-pitch intensity resonating like shattering glass throughout the temple.
Doma raced to your bedroom, fearing the worse as he heard his wife scream. He ran into the bedroom, only to be met with your form bawling on the floor, hunched over as sobs wracked your body. Followers tried to console you, yet you ignored them.
Doma approached you carefully and crouched down, but the moment he put a hand on your back, you whipped your head and cracked your hand across his face like a whip. He fell back, catching himself, shock etched into his features. You... You hit him? He paid no mind to the followers who raced to his side, asking him if he was okay. He was more surprised you dared slap him.
The stinging of his cheek didn't hurt , but it caught him off guard. He looked up and leered at you with wide eyes. Yet he clashed with the burning, sorrowful gaze you held.
"Fuck you! Goddamnit, leave me alone, you monster! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!!" You screech, standing up and burying your face in your hands. Tears slipped through your fingers and dripped to the floor.
Doma smiled, finally understanding why you were reacting the way you were. He began chuckling, then giggling, and then he broke into a fit of laughter. He stood up and held a hand to his face, looking at you with a crazed, delighted expression on his face. Gleefully, he spoke, "Oh, petal! You finally caught on!"
You shake your head and begin crying louder, turning your back to the demon. "No, no, no...," you whimper.
"We're going to be parents...," Doma croons, taking small, quiet steps towards you. Like before, he tries pulling you close but you brush him off.
"Please... Please, just leave me alone...!"
"Oh, [Name], you'll see. Once our baby is here, you'll love being a mommy. Just like I'll love being a papa...!"
"No... I didn't want this...."
"But I did! I told you for so long...," Doma whispers, uncomfortably close to you. He lets out a breathy laugh. "And now that you're finally with child, I'm going to make sure I see my baby no matter what."
You could only stand in horror, listening to his voice. The panic crawled up your throat, fear taking hold of you as you froze up. With bated breath, you wait for him to leave. But his next words made your heart drop and blood run cold.
"I'm willing to do anything for our child, [Name]. Even if it means I may have to hurt you to guarantee their safe arrival."
✦✦✦ ✦✦✦
Doma is not submissive and breedable. He is dominant and fertile.
He finally has his wish of having a family with the woman he loves.
And he'll do anything to make it come true.
Even if it means he has to become the monster and hurt you to get it.
✦✦✦ ✦✦✦
©𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚊 || 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚍 || 𝚗𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚜, 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚎𝚝𝚌. 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚌𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜,
✦✦✦ ✦✦✦
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aofleur · 3 years ago
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[ 1:20 AM ] — 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐌 ,, kamado tanjirō
genre; fluff
pronounces; she/her
description — you were a demon, he was a demon slayer. you were meant to be decapitated, he was meant to decapitate you, yet he didn't.
⸻ can also be found in:
ao3.
quotev.
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Demons are loathed by all.
They kill humans, they tear families apart, and they corrupt humanity.
Their repulsive existence is meant to be diminished.
It does not matter if you used to be human, it does not matter if you are a good or a bad demon, it does not matter you never chose to become a demon in the first place. You are nothing but a detested, repulsed being that is meant to be decapitated. That is what you believed ever since a demon stepped into your door and morphed you into one of the unsightly creatures. Even though you refused to eat any human being, even though you refused to inflict harm upon anyone, you are still a demon, and you must be rotted in hell. Humans despise your kind, so you’d never expect a tinge of mercy or forgiveness from them.
That is what you had always believed until one day...
It was yet another demon slayer that encountered your direction, and instinctively, you ran away, afraid to die at their hands. You ran, ran, and ran until your weak body gave out, like unfair karma of avoiding eating humans. This was the only time where you wished you had eaten a human; your body would've been strong and fast enough to avoid any local demon hunter. By the profound heaviness and exhaustion of your body, you collapsed to the ground. As fast as a breeze, the demon slayer arrived ahead of you in a blink of an eye. Fear and adrenaline spiraled in your system as you dragged your body backward with your arms, still determined to survive until your back made contact with a mountainous wall. Tears trickled down your eyes as the demon slayer stepped in front of you with their sword unsheathed.
“Please,” you whimpered. “I beg you, don’t slay me...I mean no harm,”
Your words managed to stop their movements.
A hiccup broke out of your lips. “I swear, I have never eaten a human in my life...so, please, spare me, leave me in peace. I wouldn't show my face ever again if you leave me alive...”
The demon slayer was taken aback; judging by how they lowered their sword and took an unconfident step backward. The night was too dark for you to make out their facial features, but you could feel how shocked and hesitant they have gotten. You heard a sniffing sound coming from them, were they sniffing? Why would they sniff at a situation like that? Confusion arose on your brows, but then, a wave of panic washed over your body when the human neared and crouched down to your level. You instinctively clutched your eyes shut as you braced yourself for any action they would commit upon you.
“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you, I promise you that,”
Such voice...it was so gentle and weaved in kindness.
Opening your eyes, the first thing that ensued in your vision was the kindest expression you had ever received in your entire demon lifetime. Warm red hues locked at your glossy [e. color] ones, a soft smile gracing the face of a young man that radiates amiable warmth. The moonlight caressed his frame, adorning his gentle features even more.
You couldn’t remember the last time someone gave you this look.
“I didn’t pick out any scent of human blood, nor any lie from you. Every word you said is sincere,” he put down his sword and pushed it a comfortable distance away from you. “So, I believe you, and I’ll spare you.”
Astonishment crossed over your tear-streaked features, “Do you...do you really mean it? You wouldn’t decapitate me...?”
He shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t. After all, you don’t eat humans—and you mean no harm, as you said. I could tell from your scent,” he gave you a toothy grin, “So, no need to worry.”
He was a demon slayer, you were a demon, and he decided not to decapitate you. It was against the rules, yet he is doing it anyway. It was shocking to you, the fact that he spared you and showed a tinge of mercy, and even kindness towards you was bewildering. He could’ve not cared if you eat humans or not, beheading you in the spot without a second thought, yet he didn’t and viewed you in a positive light.
It moved you to tears.
“Thank you...” you bent down to the ground as the intense emotions swirled like a hurricane within you, “Thank you, thank you, thank you...!” you continued to weep until you felt two arms wrap around you. He embraced you, comforted you, and soothed your intense feelings. What was with this man? Being so understanding and compassionate towards a complete stranger like you? Even, to a demon?
He’s too good and precious for this world, you swore.
And while you thought it was the kindest act he has done, he decided to take his time to stay by your side, asking about your name, and if he could learn about your life and how you turned into a demon. After you had introduced yourself, you began to reveal your story.
“They invaded my house when I and my family were having dinner. My siblings were easily massacred, my father tried to resist them, but they outnumbered him and easily killed him. My mother tried to run away with me, yet they caught up to us,” you spoke with such a voice that barely held any emotion, your vacant eyes staring into nothing. He could only stare at the ground thoughtfully, letting the info sink deep into his head. You continue, “My mother was killed, and I was severely injured. It was quite a miracle I stayed alive, but unfortunately, I got infected by the demon’s blood, thus, I turned into one.”
“Man,” he furrowed his eyebrows in sorrow and sympathy. “I’m truly sorry for such an incident, it must’ve been painful,” he clenched his jaw, his head hung low, “If only I caught wind and had arrived to save you and your family...”
“Don’t burden yourself with guilt, you weren’t present at that time,” you brought your eyes to the starry night as you thought about how your family must be walking blissfully around paradise. “Even though it’s painful, even though I miss them so much, at least they’re in a better world.”
Tanjirō smiled at you at that. If he’s being honest, he found you to be quite admirable. The fact that you had such a mature mindset for someone his age, the fact that you had such strong willpower to resist your bloodlust and hunger to avoid eating humans—without even needing a bamboo muzzle similar to his sister’s—and still have the heart too kind to harm anyone. Regardless of your fragile build, you’re in fact pretty strong.
He wanted to know more about you.
As he focused his gaze on your frame, he noticed how slim and almost bony your body is, how tattered and dusty your kimono is. From what he has registered from your story, he assumed you had no home and nowhere to go. You must be having a hard time surviving your demon life without shelter. 
So, he has decided to...
“Hey, [name]-san, tell you what,” he tenderly held your hands into his, making you feel warm both in your hands and on your cheeks. “I’d be happy if you’d accept to come and live with me.”
“...eh?”
“You heard me,” he chuckled at your expression. “I’m sure you’d love my sister and my friends! If anyone would try to confront you for you’re a demon, I’ll step in and defend you. And if you accept my offer,”
He gave you a light, reassuring squeeze on your hands, his red hues had a determined glint, “I promise, I’ll make sure to bring back your humanity.”
At that moment, a lively light has danced within your hues for the first time.
Was it possible to turn back into a human? If it was an impossible goal, will he be able to make it possible for you? Will he really...end your suffering? Will he go to the lengths of hard work and risks just for you? 
At that moment, your face had been graced by a smile soo genuine and beautiful that it took his breath away.
“I’d love to come with you, Tanjirō-kun.”
He swore, he wanted to see such a smile again. So, he mentally vowed to make you keep that adorning smile all the time. Content by your answer, he stood up and offered his hand. You accepted it, allowing him to help you get on your feet. Walking hand in hand, the both of you continued to share your life stories and got to know each other on your way to his shelter. That was how your perspective was changed; even within this cruel world, there will always be a portion of kind people in it. Not every human soul is tainted by endless sickening hatred and vengeance; there are some people with a heart of gold who can forgive a demon, and Tanjirō is one of them. As payback for his kindness towards you, you vowed to help him, protect him, and stay loyal to him.
Forever.
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© aofleur — please don’t plagiarize or modify my works.
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books-and-catears · 4 years ago
Note
Welp, since I’m a regular now; I’mma just park my chair here and spin the idea wheel. And so the idea wheel has decided!
Let’s have the Brothers and Undatables react to MC just barging in unexpectedly while they’re busy doing whatever. Everyone’s just vibing together at Diavolo’s talking about things, playing games, and all dat jazz and suddenly MC comes in with a blank face before they get a sad expression (they’re this close 👌🏾 to having a breakdown, it’s so sad).
MC:....Can I have a hug? 🥺 *says weakly as they were seconds away from crying*
Bby needs comfort! (Let’s just say they recently lost a loved one and they want some affection)
My first ever regular. You have no idea how much I cherish you. Thank you for the funniest and angstiest asks ever. This hits too close to home. I've lost two very close people to disease and suicide in the last few years and the feeling is horrible. So this might end up being a bit self indulgent... apologies.
Please if any of your friends seem not okay, check up on them regularly. Even the adults in your life. And most importantly check up on yourself. Take care okay?
I will do my best to do this justice too. Sorry if it's a little late college and extra classes are a pain sometimes.
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It was not news you were prepared to receive. Not that day. It was supposed to be a day of celebration.
Lord Diavolo had announced a small party just for Council and the exchange students. Asmo had taken hours to get you ready. Everyone was excited and in good spirits, clinking their glasses and cheering for a joyous reunion. There was music, dancing and laughter so loud, it felt like it was echoing all across Devildom.
And yet here you were in the bathroom, bent over a sink, staring at yourself in disbelief. You had received horrible news from the human world.
A last message an old friend had left for you.
"Hey MC, thanks for being kind to me. Although we have a long and sweet history, it felt good to reconnect and feel wanted in my last few days. Thanks for the last hug, MC. It was the best one I've ever had."
What kind of bittersweet message was this? What was the point of making them feel wanted if they still left anyway?
No you must keep your composure, you think. The laughter keeps echoing louder. While internal screams creep up your throat. You have to go back before they start worrying about you.
The doors to the ballroom feel heavy as you push through. "Hey look! MC's back! Now we-- MC...?"
You don't know what face you were making, but everyone went quiet. Some looked horrified, some worried and some panicked. You felt your head go dizzy with the pain, tears stinging the corners it your eyes.
Looking directly at one of them, you croaked out the first thing that came into mind.
"C-could I have a hug?"
Lucifer
This man isn't a hugger. But for you he'd make an exception every day.
Especially when you asked for it so desperately.
Walk up to you swiftly, holding the back of your head and pressing it to his chest, while his other arm wraps around you.
"Would you prefer to spend some time in private?" He whispers as you break into soft sobs in his arms and nod.
"Excuse us. We'll be back shortly. Anyone who follows us will face consequences. MC needs some time alone." He calls out to the rest and whisks you away to his room.
Makes you sit in his lap as he cradles you while you cry. Keeps telling you it's not your fault and you tried your best.
Mammon
Someone save this boy, he is a mess himself.
He feels guilty already. He can't stand to see you this way. What couldn't he protect you from??
Aren't you the one who rushes to give people hugs?
He returns the favour. Sprinting towards you and engulfing you instantly in his arms.
He feels your shaky breath as you cling on to him and goes bezerk.
"Oi. I'm taking MC home." It's the most serious he has ever been.
Doesn't hesitate to bring out his wings and fly you home as soon as possible. He cups your face as you cry, his fingers wiping down each tear. His eyes are pained looking at you like this, it wasn't even your fault. You tried till the end didn't you?
Leviathan
This man's protective trigger has been switched. Who dare be the cause of this?
You're his cheery best friend. He simply won't stand to see you like this.
Runs towards you and hugs you as tight as he can, like you've done for him so many times. Embarassment be damned.
You asked for a hug, he will definitely give you one. You grab onto his jacket with trembling fingers and lean into him.
"MC would you like to go home ?" He asks softly, patting your head. You nod softly.
Takes you home as fast as possible, and lays you down in his tub. When start crying violently he starts to tear up alongside you. Losing a friend isn't easy afterall.
Satan
His first instinct was violence. His fist tightening, about to murder whoever did this to you.
But the moment you raised your arms, asking for a hug in that small voice, it was like looking at a helpless kitten in pain.
Another one who sprints towards you to hold you close. His hug feels gentle yet urgent at the same time.
He cupped your cheek, and stared as your eyes grew misty. "Don't worry we're getting out this instant." Slammed the doors behind him as he left. A subtle message to leave them be.
He took you to common room, near the fireplace to warm you up, one of his arms always around you, as you wailed and choked on your tears. He presses kisses on your head too and tells you how kind you were. You did your part. You weren't responsible for someone else's actions.
Asmodeus
He is gasping and tearing up at the sight of you. Oh you poor thing who dare hurt you?!
How could he ever say no to your hugs? Especially now when you needed him most?
He comes at you with such speed that you both almost topple over. He rubs your back and arms trying to calm you down with his touch as he hugs you.
"Would you like to be alone with me MC?" The moment you nod, his wings are out and you're soaring through the air until you find yourself in his bath.
You lean against him and cry your heart out, he holds you from behind, pressing kisses on your head whispering it's okay.
Beelzebub
Baby boy is heartbroken. Why do you look like that? Where are you hurt?
He immediately hates that look on your face. He must do something to fix it immediately.
Runs and lifts you up in his arms and holds you so close to himself, his arms providing endless protection.
"MC will food make it better?" You shake your head so he takes off. He doesn't care about the feast he missed, he just wants you to be okay.
Flies you into his room and gives you plushies to hold onto while he gets you all your favourite food. Will hold you tight as you sob into his chest and will feed you later on cause he knows how exhausting crying can be.
Belphegor
He knows that face. And he knows the pain behind it. And now he's feeling it too.
Who did this? Who dared? Tell him their name and they're gone.
A hug, huh? He's ready to give you much more than that if you ask.
Walks towards you and wraps you up in his jacket and then his arms. His hug is so warm and soft you could fall asleep right there.
"Let's go lie down together." He will take you home and put you down in his bed, bundled up in his blanket, his soft pillow under your head. Pulls you flush against him as you sob and scream into his pillow.
Solomon
He is human. Of course he knows the face of ultimate pain. He's been through it so many times he's made himself immune.
But he wasn't immune to yours. Your ever smiling face - that was what he liked. This irked him, made him restless.
He's next to you in the blink of an eye, wrapping his arms around you, cloak and all, his mouth pressing down on your head.
"Let's take it to the sky shall we? Don't worry I've got you." He says softly. You nod, your fingers grasping at his shirt.
And in mere seconds you are soaring above the clouds, the gentle air cooling your burning heart as you cry into the wind. He holds you close and whispering to make you feel better.
Diavolo
He has seen this face only once before. When Lucifer came to him Lilith dying in his arms.
He saw the look on yours and he was determined to help you however he could. And if it started with a hug so be it.
Takes big strides and hoists you up in his arms, as you wrap your shaking arms around his neck and press your face into his jacket.
"The party is over. MC shall stay with me tonight I'll send them back when they feel better." Gone was his usual cheery tone. He seemed distraught, angry almost.
Took you to his bedroom and laid you down softly, still holding onto you tightly, keeping you from falling apart as you sob into his arms. Takes the next days off to be next to you.
Simeon
His emotions mirror your own. Seeing you in such pain, makes him feel the same.
His heart is breaking seeing you this way. He can't hold you fast enough.
He swiftly runs to hold your hands first. He feels them tremble in his own and he wraps himself around Immediately, cradling your head delicately.
"Let's get you away. You'd like that won't you?" He says running his fingers through your hair. You let you a breathy yes and he's off.
You land in Purgatory hall, curled up into him on the couch, freshly brewed flower tea on the table. He holds you close as you cry into his arms. Tells you that your friend is in a better place because you healed their soul before they left.
Barbatos
You made the usually composed demon crack. Even if for a moment, he felt the need to do something extreme.
What was causing you this much discomfort? He was ready to eliminate it.
A mere hug? Is that what would make you feel better? He is ready to deliver.
He's there before you know it, holding you like delicate royalty. You could crumble at how soft he was for you.
"Would you prefer somwhere more quiet?" He asks. You only need to nod once and he's already sweeping you off your feet and into his chambers. Picks the most calming teas for you as he sits by your side holding your hand.
Luke
He knew the demons were no good. Of course it was a matter of time before MC got hurt again.
He was about to cry looking at you, ready to throw hands at the whoever caused this.
A hug? A hug will help? YES OF COURSE.
He flies straight into, wrapping his little arms around your neck. Like a baby brother comforting a distraught older sibling.
"Come on MC! Let's get away from here!" He says and flies you off to purgatory hall. He brings you to the kitchen and starts whipping up your favourite desserts to cheer you up.
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