#and it sends humans to battle lol

[chipsncookies]

Mochi mayhem pecharunt's pov 🍑

I wanted to sleep but then i remembered you can throw food in legends arceus and as if possessed by pecharunt itself i drew this

[cupofdirtandworms]

Hello! Have an art dump cuz why not lol :D

[jjk4isen]

ꗃ 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝟏𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐍𝐎𝐖.

❝ you're not a curse, you have never been. you were my blessing and my salvation– the best thing that has ever happened to me. you cleared my skies and showed me how it was to love… and be loved. ❞

summary: when your entire village faced the king of curses' wrath, you were sure you'd be as good as food for him but life decides to weave the strings of fate and intertwine yours with the very person who tries to cut it short.

desc: 8.6k words, f!reader, sfw, angsty angst hehe, major character death, cannibalistic thoughts (sukuna is a cannibal after all), takes place in the heian era, true form sukuna, bit ooc bc we know his ass isn't capable of love, ! slightly gory parts!, this is canon bc i said so, kenjaku isn't known as kenjaku yet – he's still known as noritoshi kamo, yorozu mentioned, basically just me raw dogging the storyline during the heian era lol.

notes: this took way longer than it should but i battled like three burn out sessions to write this so lmao. also does anybody get the aot reference in the title? this might MIGHT have a part two if i can think of a good plot to mirror it. if you get the reference, you'll alr know what it's going to be titled :P

must be horrifying isn't it? being a mere human amongst sorcerers and curse users capable of destroying and killing— powerless among the powerful whose thirst for yet more power remain a bottomless pit of unquenchable desire.

in this state of the world, your life wasn't your own. it belonged to the people who were strong enough to kill you or considerate enough to spare you.

and among dangers looming throughout, one triumphs all. one whose name was even powerful enough to send curses back at just the mention of it.

ryomen sukuna. feared by curses and non curses alike. the ruthless evil entity who feeds off of humans. there is no doubt about him being the king of curses, capable of having any being in the palm of his hands.

including you.

your village faced the wrath of the king of curses himself, not a brick was intact nor a rock left unturned. and what's even worse? he didn't have any reason for his destruction. he just did it out of his sheer will.

perhaps you should consider yourself lucky to have your life spared, along with some other women and children. all the men were gone without traces — maybe for the better.

trapped in the basement of the castle’s kitchen, you await your fate to be eaten.

what was that you said before? lucky? no, you realise how horribly wrong you were. the wails and cries of terror as yet another person was dragged out of the small room was enough to ring in your ears forever.

the sudden quietness that followed soon after was enough to suffocate you.

the room was dark, wet and disgusting. it reeked of decomposed bodies and blood. nobody was fed well and even if one or two loaves of pitiful bread were thrown into the small cell, it wasn't nearly enough to feed a group of starving people.

at least the number keeps decreasing day by day.

you'd notice how the people who cried, begged or fought back were likely speeding up their deaths so you kept to yourself, waiting for your turn, even if it's just a while later.

after what you think was a couple of days came your turn. you had lost your perception of everything in this tiny suffocating room; you might as well be dead.

you heard some loud clanks of the metal door and suddenly, a harsh pull sends you essentially flying towards whoever was grabbing you.

“this is the last one” you heard a gruff voice say as a light shone inside. it felt like ages since you saw any sort of light, of warmth. in a way, you were relieved. your suffering must be finally coming to an end.

“its this one isn't it?” a low voice asks as they being a lamp closer to inspect you. your eyes were opened and after a long while, you saw again.

“why is she in such a weakly state?” the person holding the lamp grimaces at your sight. through your hazy vision, you could still make out the white hair, perfectly in place. they were beautiful.

“well that ain't my fault is it?” the big creature yanks your arm and you fall wherever it does.

suddenly shards of ice fill the room and the fire from the lamp is put out. in its place is a glowing icy caricature of the creature, holding you intact.

as terrifying as cursed techniques can be, they were also mesmerising. the beautiful fridgid sculpture leave you in awe; the rough hand holding your arm was now frozen and unmoving.

“now.” the icy person leans down, meeting your eye level, you hadn't realised the dim moonlight illuminating the ice crystals in the room “what shall we do with you?”

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

the next time you're concious enough to make out your surroundings, you find yourself in a small dimly lit room. it was heaven in comparision to the previous one.

you scrumble towards the small lamp and take in the warmth. you had no idea where you were, what happened or what would happen but for now, you were alive. barely, but alive still.

weakly, you sit on the floor— there isn't anywhere else to sit anyway. upon hugging your knees you notice an apparent bruse on your arm. the same place where you were grabbed, the memories come back slowly.

did the white haired person save you? could you maybe have a chance at life?

no, being in captivity by the king of curses himself tells you enough that you weren't going to make it out of here alive. well, it's not like you necessarily want to either. your home and the people in it were gone, some of whom you witnessed their end.

it's only fair for you to meet the same fate as them.

the sound of the door unlocking interrupts your thoughts, then in came the person with snow like hair.

“finish this” they hold out a tray of food and set it down next to you. you only lean away defensively.

without so much of another word, they make their way towards the door that is, until you decided to stop them.

“you saved me didn't you?” it had been a while since you even heard your own voice and you don't miss the way it sounded more resigned than it had ever been.

“do not be fooled. it is all in consideration for my master. finish the plate” with that they walk away, leaving you with even more questions than before.

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when the certain white haired person decides to show up, they look pleased with your health. well, it should come as a no surprise since they keep feeding you — overfeeding you in fact. and you know why.

fatten up the stock so that it's in top shape when it's time to consume it.

“follow me” they say, holding the door open.

obediently, you follow the person you owe your life to, for now anyway, and they lead you through alleys and stairways you had never seen before.

only sounds of footsteps and your exhausted huffs can be heard in the hallway filled with various markings on the wall. you don't even want to know what they mean.

“so… how do i call you?” you manage to ask, maybe if you try to get close to them, maybe they can help a second time.

don't kid yourself.

no reply comes and you feel heat rush to your cheeks from embarassment. but hey at least you tried.

your wandering eyes missed to see them stop before a certain door and you crash into them with a grunt. they must be well built because the impact did not faze them at all.

“sorry” you rub your nose that was sore from bumping your face into their back.

“i go by uraume. i am master sukuna's loyal servant. beyond this door is the garden and you are to take a walk twice a day to build up your stamina. i shall be checking on you daily.”

“why should i need to do that?”

“do as you are told. now go” they open the door for you.

beyond the door is a garden too beautiful to belong in the palace of such an abominable being. flowers of all kind adjourn each corner, flourishing in all their bloosoming glory.

the sky was as clear as can be, with the sun brightly shining as if it's wishing people a good day. the birds chirping and the gentle breeze that brushes through your hair reminds you of your home back in the village and your heart aches a little.

“thankyou” you turn back but uraume is now long gone.

gee must people be so cold around here?

you stroll along the garden, savoring your time outside in so long. how long has it been exactly? you couldn't recall. maybe you should ask uraume the next time they come around.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

only this time when uraume does show up, they don't lead you towards the garden. instead, you find yourself at the door of the king of curses’ throne room.

uraume doesn't say a word and only ushers you in.

is this doomsday? you recall the screams of fear from the people you used to share a home with. the look on their faces, their nails desperately clinging onto the prison bar while pleading for mercy — all of that for naught.

and the silence that followed.

it's possible that the well timed meals and the strolls you took in the beautiful garden was the mercy your people begged for but never got.

maybe you should be thankful you even got to have those.

“master is impatient. you should go in right this instant” uraume insists. something about their behaviour tells you if you don't do as told, you'd have a fate worse than what you could ever think of.

with all the courage you could muster, you unlock the door and take strides into it, as confident as you could make it seem.

the four armed monster looms in front of you, starting down at you as if you were only a mere bug.

perhaps you were — small and helpless, under the mercy of the predator who had seen you.

you bow politely, it seemed like it was the only appropriate thing to do.

sukuna thinks you're pathetic.

just a mere human and not worth his time. there was only a small reason as to why he hasn't had his way with you yet.

your flesh and blood.

to him, you smelled hauntingly sweet and hypnotisingly alluring. that was what drew him to your village in the first place — the hunt for the sweet scent that awakened all his senses, although he doesn't have any idea why.

sukuna is a curious being, he seeks to know the mysteries of the world — one of the reasons why he's so wise, adding to his strength.

so until he has his answers, he plans to keep you around. after that, he can enjoy your flesh however he wants.

just you standing mere feet away from him was enough to tempt him to bite you already. how would it feel to sink his teeth into your skin and have your blood flow down his throat? sukuna couldn't wait until he has the chance to do so.

“leave.” the monster only dismisses you after staring at you so intently, he might as well be staring deep into your soul.

you look up at him in confusion, why would he call you here without any particular reason?

“do your ears not work, human?” sukuna says, rather impatiently.

“lower your gaze and know your place, fool” he practically growls and you look away faster than the speed of light. one more bow and you're bolting out the door.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

your stay at the palace was a cycle of eating, sleeping and taking strolls. it was beginning to get monotonous, boring even. but its much better than facing the king of curses ever again.

you still had no idea why he called you to his throne room and honestly, you don't even want to find out why.

life wasn't so bad — the flowers were beautiful and smelled lovely, the meals were scrumptious and your sleep? well nightmares were inevitable but there were nights when you slept like a log.

and unbeknownst to you, a certain four eyed creature could be seen watching over you. no, observing you. its only right for him to observe his prey right?

it's not out of the goodness of his heart that when you whimper and cry out in your sleep because of a weak nightmare curse looming over your head, he kills it with only a tilt of his own. no, it's only because that curse deters your well being, hence your development to reach your full potential to be a perfect feast for him. nothing more.

weak human, you don't have the means to kill such a low grade curse or even see it. so why were you special? what makes you so different than the other filthy beings with no cursed techniques roaming the earth? sukuna still couldn't tell.

he's aware though — of your silent fear and unspoken resentment you have towards him. he's aware of your quivering soul whenever you sense his presence. he's aware of your desire to escape this place.

but he's also aware of how your smile becomes a little more genuine when you smell a particular flower in his garden. he's aware of how your eyes soften when you see the setting sun. he's aware of how you tried to get close to uraume and only get shut out. he's aware of you.

and that angers him to no end.

what infuriates him even more is how that pathetic servant thinks he can talk to you, and with such ease too. how dare he speak lowly of you? that's a direct insult to him isn't it?

‘you mean less than a concubine?’ sukuna scoffs at him for even comparing you to one.

so the next time he calls the council for a lecture, he doesn't even blink one of his four eyes when the said servant in question gets slashed by his formidable cursed technique.

the room grows thick with the smell of blood that was now splashed all over the carpets and tapestry hanging on the wall—a grueling task for the cleaners later.

“every tongue that rises against my prey shall fall.” the headless body of his once loyal servant serve as testimony to his words.

the palace may be big but rumours flew around: another servant ruthlessly executed by the monstrous beast. even the people under him weren't given an ounce of consideration.

is it a coincidence that it was the same person who cornered you just a day ago? you don't ponder.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

after the ruthless slaughter of your village and everything in it, it didn't take long for sukuna to find his next target.

it wasn't anything new to anybody at all that he was a bloodthirsty beast, revelling in chaos and ruin. one after another, his victims were crushed mindlessly and so easily, it made you sick how powerless other people are in comparison to him.

out of all his battles and countless destruction, one prominent opponent was the fujiwara clan.

they were an elite clan, taking pride in the strength of their squadrons. the world held its breath upon hearing of the battle, maybe they had the potential to rival the king of curses.

the outcome didn't change though. sukuna remained prevalent—bringing the sun, moon and stars at his feet. the five empty generals did not even measure upto him.

the battle must have been so agonising to the point where the authorities were willing to hold festivals in his honour, out of utter terror.

it was at this harvest festival where sukuna had encountered a certain shameless sorcerer who was on her way to be completely obsessed with him.

yorozu had only one goal: to alleviate sukuna's loneliness with her love — something she believed only she was capable of.

thus why she leeches onto him, much like a hick. perhaps sukuna doesn't see her as a threat or he deems her powerful enough, he didn't get rid of her, for now at least.

however, her dreams were short lived.

yorozu sits next to sukuna in his throne room, enticing him with gentle nudges of her exposed chest. her haori was united and her hair fell graciously past her shoulders all the way down her chest.

she only shrieks in horror as she stares at the uninterested man. “you look different… you are different!” she screams angrily.

sukuna only hums in response, deep in thought of how his little prey has been holding up. despite his festivities and celebrations, you were there in the back of his mind, like an itch that cannot be quite scratched.

she stares at him, stepping back further and further “it couldn't be…”

yorozu brings herself to her knees, looking up at sukuna desperately. “i have so much more to teach you about love and the ultimate strength and solitude that it brings!”

she rises, her eyes were erratic, anyone would be afraid of her outburst that was about to come. anyone but sukuna.

“im the one who will teach you about love. that is my purpose and my goal. now tell me, who is it that is taking away your loneliness?”

sukuna raises a brow. it's possibly the only time he indulges yorozu’s antics and also the last.

“i will find out who it is! it doesn't matter if i have to tear this palace apart” yorozu violently darts out the room in search of something, anything. to her, if it was powerful enough to move sukuna then she would have no trouble finding whatever it is.

and she doesn't. not because you're too powerful but rather because of the lack of it. you stuck out like a sore thumb with no cursed energy running through your body, weak and unarmed just strolling across the garden— like the pathetic human you are.

sukuna arrives at the scene, ever observing, ever thinking.

“that is not true love” yorozu mutters, her fists were clenched on her sides as her gaze burnt into you who was unknowing of the fury burning inside her.

“you're mistaken, sukuna. i will show you what real love looks like!” yorozu screams, making her way towards you who could only stare at her in fear, frozen in place.

it would take sukuna less than a blink of his eye to stop her but he was intrigued. what would he feel if you were to be killed? would he feel pain? anger? the beast always finds his answers so he waits.

and what was that about true love? does that woman think he was capable of it? with you, no less? she sees you, a mere human, as a threat so that must mean something.

yorozu lands on you, digging her nails into your skin, blood gushing out of it. sukuna admires the sight.

you scream in agony as she continue to scratch through you and into you with ease. a maniac expression forms on her face at your slowed breaths and now silent helpless whimpers.

but before you were completely gone, sukuna gets rid of her. you were too busy holding onto your life to tell how he did it but one blink was enough for her to be gone and another makes you realise you were caged in the arms of the four armed monster.

“interesting” you heard sukuna say, before your lashes flutter and your eyes close against your will.

sukuna holds your limp body in his arms protectively with calculated gentleness as if a slight jerk would hurt you. well, in your state, it would.

upon watching you get torn apart, sukuna realises he isn't as heartless as he deemed himself. it drives him angry. how could a being as weak as you would have the capability to move him? how could you inflict pain onto him when you're the one who's at his mercy? he scoffs at how ridiculous it is all.

but when his eyes land on you– your fragile body almost lifeless and bleeding, his only thought was towards your safety and not towards devouring you, albeit the sweet scent of your blood tempting him and calling out to him to drink it.

he stares at his hands tainted with the pretty crimson colour, glistening in the sun but it pales in comparison to the way your eyes were shut as if you were only asleep. sukuna sighs, alright then.

his reversed cursed technique flows through his body into your own, healing the deep tears and cuts. he only hopes you aren't too angry at him for waiting that long to step in.

your staggered breathing was replaced with slow even ones and your wounds disappeared as if they had never been there in the first place. a peaceful expression forms on your face and all of sukuna's eyes soften.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

the next time you awaken you find yourself in the comfort of your own room making you doubt if everything that happened was a vivid dream. and you would have believed that doubt if not for the person sitting in the corner of your room, his four arms folded into each other.

you flinch upon seeing him and sit straight up, a groan escapes you involuntarily from your sore body.

“you're awake, brat” his deep voice sends shivers down your spine.

you nod slightly, your eyes on anything besides him.

“how are you feeling?” this makes you jolt your head towards him because did he just ask about your well being? you would say you misheard but the frown and distaste on his face only confirms that he was, in fact, concerned about your condition somehow.

“im feeling alright” you say quietly, still a bit afraid of the man sitting in your room who could easily overpower you if he wanted.

“i should hope so. your weak body didn't take much to heal as easily injurable as it is” he sneers from the shadows that enveloped him.

“so it wasn't a dream?” your voice shook a little which doesn't go unnoticed.

“no. i have taken care of the matter. you may rest at ease” he rises to his feet, he looks way too big to feel safe around. you hug your blankets a little tighter. wait, when did you even have that many?

“do not fear. i do not intend to harm you.” two out of four eyes narrow at you and how scared of him you looked. sukuna doesn't like how that bothers him.

“how do i know that?” your eyes didn't meet him, rightfully so, if it was anyone else who questioned him, sukuna would waste no second getting rid of them altogether.

“it is i.” a viable answer – one that doesn't need any further explaination. sukuna maybe a merciless hard hearted being but he's also a man of his words. anyone who knows him would be aware of this fact.

“but i don't know you.”

he supposes you're right. in a way, nobody knows him. this was also why he remained so strong despite people and sorcerers alike sharpened themselves while fighting him. he did not have an opening to allow them to kill him.

“then you can start from this moment forward.”

“i don't want to.” for the first time, sukuna faces disappointment; but it's a different kind of disappointment. normally he would be discouraged at how nobody was able to stand a chance against him but now, he feels helpless. much like he was the prey and you're the predator.

“and your reason for that is?” ever so curious, he glowered at your body which had somehow become smaller amongst the sheets of blanket you're enveloped by.

“because then… then i will grow to understand you. if i do understand you then that would mean id find out you have a heart. someone with a heart would never… would never…” your voice trails away and you look horrified by the memories flooding your mind.

“so i don't want to know you.” you muster up enough courage to stare into his eyes, all of his eyes and sukuna can feel your soul tremble.

he only watched silently as you fidget under his watchful gaze. great. he's at a loss by someone who's terrified of him, how much more could you hit a blow to his pride.

without a word, he steps out of your room and he could hear you exhale. he huffs in annoyance at how tense you are in his presence. and your words. they might as well be your cursed technique attacking him with every enunciation that came from your mouth.

and they were working.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

the world was somehow shifting. you couldn't exactly pinpoint where or how but it was.

“master has assigned you a new room that would be more comfortable for your stay” uraume says, standing in front of you in a polite stance. “please allow me to guide you there.”

if this is his attempt to make you forget about all the destruction he caused, for whatever reason, it was futile. he was irredeemable.

your thoughts might have been apparant on your face because uraume continues, “master says he does not have an ulterior motive. he simply wants you to be comfortable.”

since when did that beast care about other people's comfort except for his own?

“fine then, show me” if he offered, then there's no problem in accepting. heck maybe you should be taking advantage of his hospitality and ask for whatever you desire. he has put you on death's row and wiped of everyone you knew after all.

you were led to a room that was closer to the main area of the palace, a stark contrast to the basement of the kitchen — where you started from.

pieces of beautiful art were decorating each corner, finest tapestry hanging from the walls, and the curtains? they were of the best material you had ever known. no doubt, this was a room that exceeded even your dreams.

uraume opened the closet revealing kimonos of various kinds, from silk to linen to satin— every kind was there. “i was not aware of your taste so i assorted various kinds.”

you were amazed at the room, the materials – everything but these measly riches don't bring lives back and the monster certainly wasn't capable of any empathy so the words saying he has no ulterior motive were nothing but empty to you.

“what? have i been promoted from prey to concubine now?” the word alone makes you sick to your stomach but it's the only explanation that makes sense.

“you are very wrong. master does not keep concubines. it is only an extension of his kindness.” you laugh, sukuna? kindness? please.

four eyes narrowed at your bitter laugh, sukuna stands in the doorway, each of his two arms folded in each other. he has lost count of how much disrespect he tolerates from you but strangely, it does not give him a drive to kill, only annoyance.

a brow raises when you turn around after being aware of his presence and your laugh, as mocking as it was, dropped into a frown.

seeing how speechless you are, he huffs. from out of nowhere, he conjures up a bow and an arrow to go along with it. sukuna moves stealthily, one step and he's already next to you.

the bow and arrow are shoved into your hands “i have heard you are exceptionally good with these” sukuna says, his voice was low and calculating – if you hadn't known better, you'd say it quivered a little.

he wasn't wrong though, you had to hone some sort of hunting skill for food. life wasn't kind and you learnt it the hard way. nevertheless you felt safer with some kind of weapon you were familiar with, even though they won't be of much help against a sorcerer.

“master’s very own bow and arrow” uraume interrupted, their face had an expression of shock you had never seen on them before. there was an engraving on them– the same mark that sukuna had on his body.

“why give me this?” you ask and receive no answer. not because sukuna doesn't want to answer you, he simply doesn't have a reason. he just wanted you to have it. it felt natural. he'll be damned before he ever admits that to you or even to himself.

“what if i use it on you?” you press on, clutching onto the wooden weapon tightly. “what if i wanted to fire this at you?”

“i would let you.”

it caught you by surprise. why? you want to ask but you also didn't want to hear his reason. you don't want to know him. the little barrier you had put between you both is the only thing giving you leverage against such a vicious being, you couldn't afford to have it break down.

taking a quick abrupt step back, you line the end of the arrow to the bowstring and pull on it with an expert ease, aiming it at sukuna. uraume was about to step in but sukuna waves them off. as if the most feared curse user couldn't defend himself.

he could already have you breathing your last breath in a mere second if he wanted to but of course, he doesn't. he just stands there unmoving. his lack of response to your threat made you all the more aggravated.

“aren't you going to stop me?”

“no. proceed with whatever you intend to do, i shall not stop you.” sukuna's folded arms fell to his sides, giving you an open target for his heart.

now you should be firing your arrow with no hesitation right? you have hunted down countless moving targets from as small as a bird to something as big as a deer.

and they were running while you manage to hit a bullseye – every single time. so now this unmoving big target within just a few meters would be a piece of cake. it's your chance to end the tyranny of his wicked rule and him altogether– a chance that had not been granted to anyone who stands against him.

but your hands wouldn't move. they wouldn't let go of the string to propel the arrow towards him. they were frozen in place. you would have doubted uraume’s technique being in play but no signs of ice crystals found themselves anywhere near.

sukuna waits and you wonder if he was ever this patient.

your hands tremble, slowly letting your form down. why couldn't you just do it?

“human–”

sukuna's words were cut short by a swift arrow flying towards him. he didn't make a move to avoid it.

your trembling hands were now perfectly stable holding the bow. your breathing was calm, collected even. if anyone were to see you now, they'd wonder who the beast is. empty eyes deadpan at your target.

sukuna stares back, his cheek bleeding from the graze of the arrow. unlike your soul-less face, a satisfactory smile creeps onto sukuna's. “you didn't miss, did you? you aimed here on purpose.” his hands caress the small wound in awe.

“next time i wont.”

“as i have said, i will not stop you.”

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

the new room was comfortable, all your needs were tended to and your conduct exceeded your desires. you were treated equal to a queen, if you knew how.

and uraume, sukuna's loyal servant, was now your own. they were still very distant though, not speaking more than they needed to. not like you really minded anyway.

uraume was there to observe. they were under strict orders to keep you safe and also report your daily status to sukuna. you weren't exactly aware of this part but there's no harm done so by logic, there wasn't a problem with it either.

sukuna finds the corner of his mouth twitch when uraume mentioned that you sang obnoxiously loud because you thought nobody was around. he'd have loved to hear that himself.

the amusing brief about you was however rudely interrupted by a strange person brave enough to march directly into the throne room unannounced.

“you're from the kamo clan aren't you? have you come to die a meaningful death?” sukuna's thirst for battle heightened upon seeing a sorcerer from one of the three main clans in jujutsu. maybe finally, he can have a strong opponent and enjoy the fight without having it end too early.

but the man only chuckles “no, i have come here to negotiate with the almighty king of curses himself”

sukuna frowns, now staring at him unamused “you do not have anything worth a value to me. fight or die a pathetic death.”

“i will do neither of those.” noritoshi kamo, stands face to face with sukuna without a hint of fear in his eyes and that makes sukuna curious. just what kind of offer does he have to be so bold?

“prove that you are worth my time you filthy scum” sukuna glowers at the man, getting more and more impatient by the second.

“how about that prey? how is your little prey doing?” kamo smirks and it's enough to tempt sukuna to cut through his skull but no, he refrains because anything that involves you, sukuna doesn't take it lightly.

“speak up or i’ll have you slashed.” sukuna remarks impatiently.

“it would be a shame to have her taken away from you isn't it?” the old man sneers.

the next thing he knows is his ragged breath and a sharp pain across his chest, kamo falls to his knees. sukuna’s technique had manifested a cut through his chest, although not deep enough to end him. with blood oozing out of the fresh cut and his mouth, he still has the courage to glare at the four eyed creature.

“you must not value your life” sukuna says nonchalantly, leaning against one of his hand, the grotesque sight was nothing new to him at all.

“your reign is coming to an end isn't it?” kamo laughs, although it comes out through splutters of blood. “no matter how powerful you are, you are not immortal sukuna, you still won't defeat death!”

as if sukuna is one to fear death. sukuna only sighs, revelling in the bloodied state of his intimidator.

“and your little human toy won't either” that earns a reaction from him. sukuna's eyes narrow at the pitiful man fighting for his life.

“what are you suggesting?”

“what if i tell you– that there is a way for you to be immortal? and that it's possible to find her in every lifetime?”

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

everyone who knows sukuna knows that he does not get hurt. or yet, there's nobody who's strong enough to hurt him. generation upon generation, sorcerers have teamed up to get rid of him but with no luck. not even one of them could land a hit on the ferocious being.

all the more reason for you to be speechless when he returns with a huge hole in his stomach, bleeding continuously.

it was during your stroll that you saw him staggering over to his room.

okay maybe that was a lie. maybe you'd heard that a very prominent sorcerer in the jujutsu society had challenged him. you didn't know much about that world but it was enough to worry you, even if sukuna was undefeated.

so maybe that worry brings you into a situation where he arrived just while you were taking a stroll in the garden. you definitely didn't purposely take longer to watch the birds fly back to their nest in hopes of making sure sukuna returns. definitely not.

that's also NOT why you're knocking on his door boldly.

the door opens, revealing a confused sukuna. your eyes dart down to his injury but it seems the blood had stopped, still looking nasty regardless.

you wince just by looking at it but sukuna interrupts your unwarranted examination. “eyes here human. what do you want?”

for someone who's supposed to be prey, you're bold because in the next moment, you find yourself pushing through the door and asking him to sit down.

yes. you— a mere human, barged through his room and asked him to sit. when he doesn't comply, you walk up to him, pulling on one of his hands, guiding him towards his chair and sat him down. and strangely, no hint of protest came from him – not even a grunt or a growl.

with familiar ease, you call in uraume and ask for an emergency kit. they hesitate but comply regardless.

your expert hands slowly disinfect the wound and start stitching it up, not even sparing a glance at the man who just watches you and lets you do whatever you want to him.

“where have you garnered skills to do this?” sukuna asks mid stitch and it's only then that you realised he hasn't done so much as flinch. you could imagine how painful it would've been for a normal human but apparently this counts for nothing to him.

“when you're desperate enough, you just know” the last string goes through his flesh and you tie a knot, snapping the thread off. your movements slow when you realise you're touching him– skin and all, with your own.

your eyes lock when you search for his and they stare back. this time, you don't see a vicious brute but in its place, you see the eyes of a man. and not just any man, if you allowed your thoughts to wander you'd say it was the same look of a man capable of love.

but you don't – you look away. and sukuna's could feel a slight pull in his chest.

“human.”

“i have a name”

“human.”

the disregard for your name only makes you roll your eyes in annoyance. the man only chuckles at the sight.

“you do realise i can heal myself?”

a pause. of course how could you forget? reversed cursed technique they call it? all these magical powers granted to them made no sense to you at all. you only stare at the wall dumbfounded as sukuna downright laughs at your humiliated expression.

“why didn't you stop me then?” your grumble only amuses him further.

“perhaps because i wanted you to acknowledge how foolish you are?” his tone was teasing and not a hint of malicious intent was within it. a smile creeps on your lips and sukuna could swear his heart rate accelerated.

“i could show it to you if you're curious” your wide eyes give him all the confirmation he needed. sukuna rises on his feet, the prior horrid injury long forgotten.

“you could… take off the bandages. if they aren't effective anyway since you can heal” you shrug, trying to brush off your wholly service that was in fact not required in the first place.

“i rather they stay.” his hands graze them gently and you could swear he smiled at the pitiful mounts of cotton plastered on his abdomen.

“come. allow me to show you what im capable of.” he offers you a hand, out of the many he has and his shoulder slumps in relief when you take it without any protest.

he takes you outside and leads you towards your favourite spot in the garden. you don't let yourself wonder if it's a coincidence or not.

“see that fruit?” he gestures to a ripe apple hanging on its tree – super red and just the perfect size.

“yeah want about it?” you tilt your head towards him curiously making sukuna more enthusiastic to show you his perfectly crafted technique.

an invisible slash cuts the single fruit out of the tree, making it fall. it was barely noticeable and you'd think it fell on its own if not for the perfect slices it has all while it landed in the palm of your hands.

your wide eyed gaze only delights the man responsible for it. you take one slice off and admire the precision “you did this?? no way!”

sukuna heaves his chest proudly. strangely, your adulation to his antic gives him so much more satisfaction than wiping out an entire village.

“wait till you see this” sukuna takes a step back, his lips quirking up into a tight smirk upon seeing your expectant expression.

he places his hands together and gestures up signs that were not familiar to you. “fuga « open »” his low voice chants while fire manifests into the palm of his hands. he moulds the flames skillfully as it takes the shape of an arrow – a fire arrow.

and you're left with your mouth agape, he was truly terrifying. such bright flames don't even burn him but instead falls into his command.

sukuna likes the way you stare at him in wonder and was tempted to tell you that he created this very technique in honour of you and your bold decision in grazing his cheek with your arrow but for now, he holds his tongue and lets you admire as long as you want.

when the flames burn away, you're still in a haze— staring at the man in front of you with diluted pupils: one might think you're in love.

as sukuna focuses his eyes into your own, he's certain he could see into your soul which grows a little more familiar to him everytime he sees you. no it's not how he feels the familiar terror in someone's soul when they tremble in fear of him just as he was about to take their life.

it's not the same shudder of fear he used to feel when he's around you. this time, it's inviting. he feels he could be stripped of his technique and just be a normal being if it meant he could submerge himself in it.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

sukuna used to anticipate how he would die. he wanted to meet someone who would be strong enough to give him a formidable death fit for the most evil being to tread the world. news of fresh generation of strong sorcerers would excite him.

but the moment he knew he was entranced by you, that prior excitement was now replaced by fear. not fear for his death but rather, for yours. if anything were to happen to him, who would protect you?

it doesn't help how his enemies were catching hints on his possible weakness now. it all started with that damn bastard from the kamo clan, whom sukuna swears to kill. him and everybody else that could pose as a threat to you, he swears he will kill them all.

a little part of him also starts to fear for his own end. he fears that no matter how long he lives, he might think he doesn't have enough time with you. how could he when you're here, showing the sides or the world he never knew existed? the same world you weaved with every gentle word you say, no matter how insignificant.

sukuna can't get enough of the small smiles that were appearing more frequently when he reaches out to hold your tiny hand in his big ones.

he can't get enough of your soft snores when you're asleep in his chest– no more nightmares haunting your sleep because as long as he's around, any curse would have to fight him to get to you. no curse was bold enough to do so.

and mostly, he can't get enough of your small gentle strokes across his face. your touch was feather light and curious but so so loving that even when your hands were about to be pulled away, his own grabs them and makes them stay.

sukuna has nothing at all to base it off of, but if he had to name what he's feeling right now, it would be along the lines of complete devotion to you – in other words, he suspects it's the feeling these weak humans and yozoru keep preaching about: love.

and he's not denying it– not to himself at least or he can't. during his recent battles, he observes himself ending it as quick as possible.

instead of luxuriating in the thrill of battle, he finds himself rushing to kill his opponent – to end it as quick as it was humanely possible because every second he spends away from you is a second wasted.

he was becoming more precise and ruthless now that he has something to protect.

that's why even when you ask about his murder streak and if he could lessen it, he just ruffles your hair and tells you not to worry.

any sorcerer who has gotten close enough to land their sights on you were brutally tortured until they give up on their life altogether.

however, life can be funny at times. his own fear for your well being is possibly responsible for the curse that now latches onto you, consuming and draining the life out of you and sukuna's forced to watch as you slowly became a husk of who you used to be. so really, it's not funny at all.

he feels helpless and he is. none of the cursed techniques he has could exorcise the curse blooming inside you and spreading through your veins.

he has been warned before and he didn't care. he never fathomed to ever find someone to love so he traded his soul for his fervent reign – a binding vow: any being whose soul remotely gets near his own would ruin itself without any means for its resurrection.

another condition of the vow was for him to forget about it only after it was too late. at the time the vow was made, sukuna had thought, no, he'd known he lucked out by a power at the price of such a feeble condition but now… now he knows how gut wrenchingly wrong he was.

sukuna slumps in defeat at the sight of your weak body fighting itself. all his four hands encased one of yours as he listens to your staggering breaths that slowly becomes more faint than the last.

for the first time, no matter how tainted his hands were of from the numerous people he murdered in cold blood, sukuna finds himself praying; not for salvation or forgiveness but for your suffering to be placed onto him instead.

he has just found happiness with you, and in you, had just started to learn how to love someone so much that all his wicked ways were something he wished he never did. he had been stupid and arrogant – too arrogant. he was sure the heaven and whole generations of people he killed were now laughing at him drowning in his own misery. how the tables have turned on him and humbled him.

“kuna..” your barely audible voice mades him lean closer to your face, one of his large hands coming up to caress your face delicately.

“human. save your energy” sukuna scolds but his tone was not demanding by any means. it was desperate, desperate for just one more second of you.

a faint smile ghosts your almost now deathly pale face “it's not your fault.” you manage to cough out through staggering breaths.

sukuna's world might as well stop. it was his fault, everything was his fault. from the moment he caught a whiff of your sweet sweet blood to when he looked at you as nothing but prey to the moment when you became the sole reason for his existence, it was all his doing. he has taken you and tangled you amidst the string of despair.

his head shakes in denial, no words coming out of both his two mouths. so much to say, so many ways to say it but nothing.

but you know, the four pupils staring at you take the form of hearts, and that tells you everything. it could be just an illusion you'd heard people speak of on the verge of death but it's enough for you.

your sweet blood slowly looses its essence as you close your eyes, the last light inside you leisurely fading away.

“oi human” sukuna calls but there was no response.

“answer me” a plea.

still no answer as your hand slowly goes limp in his own. there was silence and nothing. so much of nothing that was unfamiliar in the otherwise air of curiousity that always surrounded you.

“human.” sukuna's voice wavers as his hands come to cup your too peaceful face. he searches for any signs of life but he finds none. before he knew it, a drop of water landed on your clueless yet beautiful features, then another and another.

the monster was crying. not just crying – he wept.

his entire body shakes as he lets out his pain, holding onto you desperately as if that would bring you back.

“human” he dries away his own tears on your face and brushes away the hair that dared hide even a portion of it.

“you're not a curse. you have never been. you were my blessing, my salvation. you are the best thing that have ever happened to me. you cleared my skies and showed me how it was to love… and be loved.”

sukuna trembled in grief at your loss. the king of curses– reduced to a man in love.

perhaps he wasn't the cannibal here. perhaps you were the one who slowly teared him apart and consumed his very being– merging yourself into his core without him even realising it.

but one thing he knows for sure is that if he were to do it again, he'd let himself be devoured entirely by you. over and over again. to be loved is to be consumed and he's offering himself to you, flesh and bones on a silver platter.

“until next time, my love.” he leans in and places a fragile kiss onto your forehead and that's the first and last time he has a taste of you.

with the last drop of your blood running dry and the absence of the warmth that made you, you; sukuna finds his answer – the reason why your blood tasted so sweet was because he was made to crave it. something he could quench his thirst with but never getting the chance to do so; a punishment perfectly fit for him.

“your deal. i shall agree to it on a condition” sukuna glowers at kamo who only smirks with an ‘i told you so’ written all over his face. sukuna would have slashed him to bits if it weren't for the agreement he agreed to take up on.

“i shall trade my soul to become a curse only if i get reincarnated exactly a thousand years from now” sukuna proposes, no, commands. it is said that a soul is reincarnated only once every thousand years and he wants to make sure he finds you in the next lifetime. maybe then, he'll have enough time with you and if he's lucky enough, be able to love you without bounds.

“that could be arranged” kamo quirks his head in a way sukuna despises. “but she'll have no memory of you. you're proceeding with this knowledge, yes?”

sukuna only narrows his eyes and ignores his question “that is not all. erase her existence from the minds of everyone besides me. generations hence, no one shall know who she is. her name shall be removed from every mouth that speaks of my reign.”

kamo smiles lazily “your soul is not worth that much sukuna”. the man strolls freely in the room, not minding the looming presence of the king of curses. “however, a binding vow could be arranged.”

great. another binding vow. but if that means he'll meet you in a thousand years time, he'll vow as many times as required.

“the grounds of the vow is as follows: you shall be reincarnated only if there appears a vessel suitable to withstand you.” kamo proposes. “your fingers will be cut and hidden in vast areas across the world and you shall only succeed in full reincarnation if you find them and consume them, all while being suppressed by the vessel.”

sukuna frowns and kamo only laughs “do you agree to the vow knowing all the risk it carries?”

conditions and regulations were a pain but nothing could stop a man desperate enough to give up his soul twice. “very well” sukuna agrees.

and that is how the heian era and sukuna's legacy came to an end; sealing himself – and the memories of you only he carries with him – into his twenty fingers, each of which turned into cursed objects scattered far and wide like pieces of puzzle waiting until the time comes for it to fit itself together again.

[allurilove]

Yan! Prince x Siren you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: Gore, murder, death, cannibalism?, physical violence, non-consensual touching, implied sexual exploitation, fem reader, and decapitation.

*This is just a fun short story I wrote for the class I am taking, and I just decided to upload it here! Some parts are influenced by the yandere fic I already made lol! This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: All you have known is peace, all until you get captured by a group of men that unlocks a different side to you. You then meet a prince, a prince driven with a bloodlust for power, and he gives you a proposition.

Men. All they do is bother you.

Your heart beats fast.

Your vision blurs as the familiar blues turn into browns, and your eyes fixate on the woodwork and rustic charm of what is considered to be a ship. The rope burns onto your skin, and your body contorts into an unnatural state as she is hoisted onto the boat.

Your tail thrashes and you try to bite your way out of the trap—teeth gnashing and chewing—and you cry out as youre is hit with a paddle. Your head starts to ring, and your eyes widen as you see the group of men in front of you.

Their garments are quite different from yours; in fact, they are fully dressed from head to toe. Their clothes are all dark, and their blouses have ruffles at the top. They wear boots, have swords at their sides, trench coats, and carry a heavy musk of sweat and battle.

With a sharp and intimidating blade, one of the men cuts through the net. Multiple hands grab for you, and your world comes to a pause as you panic. You feel like you can't breathe and your lungs are about to collapse. You scratch and attempt to plead with your captors, your nails digging into their forearms, drawing long red streaks.

But they do not listen.

“Mighty thang we got ‘ere!” one of the men says, his hair darkened by the rain peltering their bodies. He has a rough scar running down his face– a deep incision that caused his skin to never heal.

You can see a prominent and yellow snaggletooth whenever he speaks. He has an air of authority surrounding him, and his hat has gold embellishments compared to the regular silver everyone else has. That one particular man holds a predatory gaze, his eyes set ablaze with a whirlwind of mischief. “Tie her up, we could use a beaut like her on top of the mantle.” 

Laughter fills your ears as the group of men start to agree, and you feel a chill run down your spine as they touch your smooth cheek, their fingers trailing down to your jawline, and moving lower to your collarbones.

Each touch feels intrusive as they pet your silk-like hair condescendingly. “We could send her to the owner at The Pearl of the Eye; I know they are lookin’ for new girls to show off,” another says, his arms crossed as he leaned against the post.

“Aye, tha’ a popular place.” The man with the highest regard starts to pet his scruffy beard in thought. He then catches your withering glare, and a flash of amusement crosses his face. “Feisty one, aren’t ya? I know men who would pay a pretty coin for that temperament.”

“Keep it up, trollop.” he snickers, his finger moving to boop your nose. “You’ll make me thousands of gold in no time.”

Your pupils turn to slits as you bite down onto the man's finger, a metallic taste bursting into your mouth, satisfaction lingering on your tongue. His blood becomes sweet nectar, and with renewed strength and clarity, you unhinge your jaw and attempt to swallow the human whole.

Your hunger becomes endless, and a gnawing angry feeling grows into an insatiable appetite for flesh. For skin to be peeled off meat. For meat to be taken from bone, and their vocal chords to be a part of yours. Your body adjusts to the change, your throat expanding to the men’s silhouette as they traveled down your gullet. Their screams were words of encouragement, egging you to continue.

Humans, and men in particular, tasted different from the fish you were used to. They were heavier, harrier, bloodier, and infested with nasty ambition of lust and pride. You revel in the taste of their guilt, their fear, and the past memories of their wickedness. 

No matter how hard the group of men tried to band up and defeat the siren, their swords were no match for your unwavering hatred. You waste zero time to snap multiple necks, your teeth digging into any area that you could rip into shreds, and your stomach becomes full off of their disgustingly filthy urine soaked bodies.

One last man is standing, his eyes wide as saucers and his tears roll down his pale cheeks. He looks young and his uniform doesn't fit him properly. Your nails help your body to crawl towards the shaking figure, he can't even defend himself, and the weapon in his hand shakes. The wind continues to whip around them, the clouds darken as a loud cry comes from the sky, and an array of purple and dark blue strikes down on the earth. The boy yelps when you have an iron grip on his ankle. 

Unbeknownst to the siren, a smaller vessel has pulled up to the larger ship.

“I wouldn't touch him, if I were you.” The voice is cutthroat, a harsh demand that sends chills down the spine of the scariest and deadliest creature. You wince as you feel a sharp pain on your scalp, and your hair is now wrapped around a stranger's hand as they yank you back. You crash into a barrel filled with treasures as you are thrown across the ship, and a bunch of diamonds and pearls spill onto the floor. 

A tall and proud man stands in front of you, he has pitch black hair that flows in the wind, and his blue eyes shine like bright lights. The unknown man's presence is regal-like, his back straight like an arrow, and his face is trained with unusual niceties. Then the little boy ran into his embrace, and his arms wrapped around him tightly… all before the man pulls out a dagger from his sheath.

Without a single thought, a clean cut to the throat separated the head from the body, and the man’s lips stretched into a wide eerie smile. He isn't phased by the limp body falling to his feet and the blood spilling onto his perfect shoes.

“You… you are exactly what I need.” The man’s eyes are glued to yours and he stares down at you. “My name is Prince....” 

The prince that stands before you is practically last in line for the throne. That is what you could surmise from his little rant. He is sadly and disappointingly the second youngest, and he isn't close to the crown and title, at all.

He paced around, one hand on his heart, and the other continued to grip onto the hair of the decapitated head. “I need to be king. I am the only one fit to rule the land. It is like the gods have forsaken me, and they decided to punish me for no apparent reason.”  

The man huffs, his eyes narrowing. The waves crash against the sides of the boat, but he stands his ground. “Six siblings ahead of me, and one measly brother behind me– does that seem fair to you? That this kingdom will fall into the hands of dumb and dumber, and eventually to the offspring of the said dumb and dumber?!” His voice is so loud it even rivals the onslaught of thunder, and you can hear a hint of distraught on his otherwise clear and steady tone.

“This is where you come in.” He stops right in front of you. “I can keep you fed, and I can give you all the riches you could ever want. Marry me, carry my children and lineage, and get rid of all of my siblings.” The prince throws the head at your tail, and with a tilt of the ship, it slowly rolls towards you.

The boy's jaw is slack, a tooth chipped from the impact of the fall, and his blue eyes are wide open in fear. He has similar tiny freckles around his nose like the prince, the same facial structure with the high cheekbones, and a tall nose.  

“Eat up. You’ll need your strength.” 

[moodymisty]

Space marine trio gangbang anon read my fucking mind lol (I also have not played space marine 2 yet, but I hc that gadriel is into degrading praise rather than straight up degradation) like, please God, let me be their personal serf for whenever they need me, doesn't have ti be all of them at once. Just a titjob here, a quickie there. Hell, a hand job would probably enough for msot of them because of their repressed sexual desires. (I feel like a freaking beggar running around the univer going "spare cock? Please? Anyone have spare cock")

Author's note: oops?

Warnings: NSFW, Handjob, Very gentle degradation tbh not really much, Implied being shared among the three of them

Surprisingly, Adeptus Administratum tasks aboard an astartes ship are somewhat lacking. Though it is more than possible that one of a few people had something to do with that.

You won't complain however, no one apart from the most vehemently obsessed would prefer writing tax reports over other things that occur aboard a battlebarge as large as this.

-- come to the astartes barracks --

Normally, they don't even bother with sending messages over vox. It's either quicker to send someone to get you, or get you themselves. Knowing the sender of the message had been far more surprising however.

You've known Titus the longest. He has said that he enjoys your company; Perhaps because unaugmented humans cannot bicker and snub him off in the same way fellow astartes can.

Charion was introduced to you by Titus not long after. He seems kind, almost kinder than Titus in a way; Though it's more than likely that he is simply less afraid to show it.

Gadriel... You don't know him well. You know of him, but he seems completely uninterested in you.

Completely uninterested in that.

You don't know if he was simply being obtuse when saying it, or if he genuinely didn't know what the words for what you are doing with his battle brothers are. He didn't seem to care either way anyways.

Which had made it all the more surprising when you huffed all the way to the astartes barracks, only to find Gadriel standing in the entryway of his quarters waiting. You had thought it just coincidence at first, until he purposely calls you closer while you look for Titus.

You come to him and squeeze inside his barracks from the doorway he mostly blocks- sizable even without armor. The door closes behind you with a dull hiss. It's barren other than the basics, and a few trophies.

"My lord... Do you require something?"

The look Gadriel gives you is more than unimpressed, and dare you think almost... Pouting?

"You call Charion Charion, you call Titus Demetrian, but I get Lord?"

You shirk a bit into yourself, shrugging your shoulders. Having to speak with him is more difficult than the others.

"Will all the due respect, I don't know you."

The look Gadriel gives isn't readable- though it could simply be because you really do not know him like you do his squadmates.

The astartes moves to drop himself sitting onto his bunk, and the horrible creak it lets out crying from his weight worries you it might collapse. Thankfully however, it holds. You don't know if it would've if he was any heavier.

"What you do with them, show me."

A vague question.

You stand dumbly and look at him, watching how his robes lay over his shoulders and chest. The longer you're silent, the most irritated he gets.

"Can you, can you be a bit more specific?"

He looks at your thoroughly unimpressed, eyes glancing you up and down. You feel pressed under his stare in a way you don't know if you like or not. It unsettles a bit, for sure.

"You know. The reason you always smell like them."

Oh. You know what he's referring to now.

Titus and Charion while seeming to genuinely enjoy your company, enjoy something else you offer them outside of the things a normal space marine should know of and desire. Titus had been the first. He's an older marine, hardened and stalwart in his duties but independent.

Titus had offered you to Charion, after you agreed. Hence why despite there being two of them, you still are referred to as being Titus'.

But Gadriel had shrugged them both off, content to have little to no interaction with you other than when he stumbles upon you in their company and the occasional requisition order.

You wonder what spurred on this sudden change.

Stepping closer, he watches you intently as you to try and figure out how to even start. Titus always wants to kiss you- to try and shove his larger tongue right down your throat. Would Gadriel even care? Does he even know how? Then again if he knows enough to demand you show him how you fuck his battle brothers, he would know such a thing, correct? Then again you're well aware from experience the gaps in their knowledge are vast crevasses that take a long time and are often, quite embarrassing to cross.

At least he is thoroughly clean, however. The last time Titus and his squad had been deployed it was a two and a half week rotation, and when they had returned, Titus had eagerly come to visit you and chat once out of armor.

He had however neglected to bathe in his excitement, and upon entering the same confined room as him, you had immediately retched all over the floor.

TItus then left to clean himself of whatever ungodly concoction of putrid things he was still covered in, and you scurried away until the serfs cleaned everything.

Gadriel in comparison smells, dare you say quite pleasant. A heady, musky male odor combined with an almost chemical smell hidden underneath. Titus had said it was from their extra organs, one in particular that embarrassingly, you forgot the name of.

You stand unsure as he watches and you can see him getting impatient, as you speak up again.

"Could you, perhaps be a bit more specific?" The look he gives you is insultingly unimpressed.

"Titus always calls you smart. I don't see it."

You purse your lips, a bit upset at the insult.

"My l- Gadriel, in my defense you are being quite vague..."

The astartes sighs and loses a bit of his rigid posture, letting himself slouch just a bit as the muscle and fat of his stomach folds. You don't know why you suddenly realize just how large he is in that exact moment- how he's still almost at your height while sitting.

"Give me what you give Titus."

That you can at least somewhat work with.

Stepping even closer, you can feel the way your heart is nervously stammering. You only know Gadriel a tiny bit, despite being part of Titus' main squad. He never seemed interested in you until now. He would tend to roll his eyes at particularly Titus giving you any sort of affection, or desiring it when you weren't around.

To get any closer however you decide to walk and place his left thigh between your own; His legs are spread decently far apart enough to make it difficult. The moment your hands touch his chest, you can see him glance down to see. One of them pushes higher to rest on his collarbone, feeling the rough scars on his skin as his robe shifts to reveal more skin.

"Titus says a lot of things about you."

You can feel the way his voice rumbles in his chest, incredibly deep. You swallow a knot in your throat.

"I hope they're good things..."

Gadriel's voice is stoic and lacking in obvious emotion, but it's a bit lighter than how he was earlier. You wish you could have any clue on what he was thinking.

"We will see."

Your other hand drifts lower, brushing across his stomach. You hear a small pack of astartes walk around outside, and you unconsciously glance towards the door while your hand twitches away.

"They aren't going to come in here. Quit behaving so nervously. You can do it."

His surprising addition to the end makes your face feel a bit warm, before pulling at the fabric used as underwear.

Astartes clothes are cheap, utilitarian and mass produced, and as it goes quite easy to put on and remove.

When you wrap your hand around his cock you can't even hear Gadriel make the slightest sound, gently dancing your fingers over his skin. You feel his cock twitch in your palm, leaning forward until your own breath is fanning over his skin. Attempting to ignore the way your cunt throbs and brushes against his thigh is a gargantuan task, but you attempt it none the less.

You're close enough that you think you can just barely hear the sound of his hearts, though it could also just be your own blood thumping in your ears. You feel his cock harden in your hand and as your palm drifts up and down his shaft you feel him let out the slightest exhale.

You know from experience that even the slightest slip ups for them are far more dramatic than you would think. If he slipped up enough to let out a heavy breath, you know that it's working.

Only for a moment do you pull away your hand to lick your palm, trying not to have so much dry friction. He doesn't seem to care, but you did. When you wrack your hand around his cock against and move faster, a bit rougher, Gadriel lets out a louder noise before one of his hands reaches to grab your waist.

"Throne girl,"

He grunts out, before you move away. The look he gives you is confused and irritated, as you try and move to kneel between his legs. You think he is about to reprimand him, before he realizes that you haven't decided to just leave him with an aching, leaking erection in the middle of the barracks.

Your jaw aches just at the sight of his cock before your face, wrapping your lips around his tip. Slowly you take more and more of him in your mouth and hear the way he lets out a surprisingly loud groan, feeling the wet heat of your mouth around over half of his cock. It's all that can fit; You wrap your hand around the rest while the other steadies yourself on his thigh.

You can taste the saltiness of skin, sweat and precum in your mouth, bobbing your head on his cock. You treat cautiously- you know he more than likely isn't going to last much longer and you know he will not warn you. While a mouth full of astartes cum isn't the worst thing- at least to you though you're sure it's probably an outlier opinion- you'd rather not end up with and unprepared mouthful so much so you choke.

"So this is what they've had you doing instead of Administratum duties?"

You hum to clear your throat and attempt to ignore the throbbing between your legs, looking up briefly to see his furrowed brow and flush to his skin. He lets out a large exhale through his nose, and you feel his cock throb in your mouth.

You think you hear him mumble something- a swear perhaps you don't know, but moments later he cums in your mouth, filling the pocket of your cheek and forcing you to quickly pull away more lest he do actually choke you. It almost hurts to swallow, but when you look up he's staring at you with that stoic astartes expression; Though something is underneath it.

"The chaplains would call this heretical, whoreish behavior." You pull away and wipe your mouth.

"Are you not the one who ordered me? And who let me do such things?" He watches you closely, sternly.

"That I did. And I order you to show me more."

[nattikay]

...hmm...just thinkin' about an Avatar "no angst" AU, y'know, like an AU where the characters who died in the first movie just...didn't? For example...

• Tsu'tey and Sylwanin are both alive and well. They officially tied the knot not long after the point when Sylwanin would've died in canon, and already have a child together by the time Jake arrives on Pandora.

• Eytukan also lives and therefore he and Mo'at are still leading the clan, though of course Tsu'tey and Sylwanin are next in line.

• Because the schoolhouse incident never happened in this AU, Grace was never kicked out of the village; her school is still running and she is on good terms with the Omatikaya.

• The RDA is overall less psychotic than they are in canon, and the Avatar Program has been largely successful in establishing diplomacy with the local clans. There is still some level of tension between the humans and the Na'vi of course, because the humans are ultimately still there to mine unobtainium and the Na'vi would prefer there was no mining at all, but in this AU the RDA is at least principled enough to not do things like bulldoze the Tree of Voices or bomb Hometree etc. (so, Hometree is still standing). Jake was never asked to spy on the Na'vi.

• Grace is actually the one to introduce Jake to Neytiri when she brings Jake and Norm along to the school one day. Neytiri is intrigued by the goofy non-scientist "warrior" dreamwalker and Jake finds himself equally intrigued by her; they begin spending more and more time together, and when Jake expresses curiosity about her way of life Neytiri just naturally kinda takes it upon herself to teach him the ways of the clan.

• Because Neytiri is neither tsakarem nor engaged to Tsu'tey in this AU, her romance with Jake is not quite as ~forbidden~ as it was in canon (and honestly they make zero effort to hide their feelings; the whole clan knows lol). The only remaining barrier is the fact that he's a dreamwalker and how that may affect things.

• Jake and Neytiri fall head over heels for each other about as fast as they do in canon; after three months Jake is already fully convinced that he wants remain with Neytiri and the clan for the rest of his life rather than ever go back to Earth, where there is nothing left for him. Even getting the spinal surgery to fix his legs no longer holds any interest for him, since of course his avatar body can walk just fine.

• By that point Neytiri begs Mo'at and Eytukan to let Jake do the coming-of-age ceremonies and become part of the clan so they can become mates. Mo'at and especially Eytukan are hesitant, but Mo'at consults Eywa and Eywa sends a sign of approval, so they allow it. Jake spends about an extra month preparing more specifically for Iknimaya and Uniltaron, and soon after completing those he and Neytiri actually get to have a proper mating ceremony. Jake does go through the permanent consciousness transfer at some point, though I haven't yet come up with the exact circumstances there...

• The Sully kids get to have more extended family! Grandpa Eytukan, Uncle Tsu'tey, and Aunt Sylwanin are all still around, along with a handful of cousins (Tsu'tey's and Sylwanin's kids).

• Quaritch never shot Grace in this AU, which means she never had to undergo the attempted consciousness transfer, which means Kiri wasn't conceived the way she was in canon. Buuuuuut I still want Kiri as part of the Sully family, so in this AU she is Jake and Neytiri's biological daughter and Neteyam's twin. She doesn't have the special Eywa powers that she has in canon, but does still have a spiritually-minded personality, and is a strong candidate for next tsakarem after Sylwanin. Grace still adores and dotes on her, especially when she shows interest in botany.

• Norm and Trudy are happy in a long-term relationship.

• There was no Battle at the Hallelujah Mountains, therefore Paz didn't die and was still around to raise Spider (undecided on how involved Quaritch was though).

• I like to imagine that in this AU Paz and Trudy are good friends, both being pilots and all. It's through Trudy that Paz and Spider become involved with folks from the Avatar program and Spider meets the Sully kids.

• Because she doesn't have the RDA-related traumas she has in canon, Neytiri is totally chill with Spider in this AU. She is mostly just curiously amused by the strange little human boy running around with his Na'vi friends.

• Spider is semi-trilingual English/Spanish/Na'vi. English is his go-to since everyone he knows can speak it, but he can also do some Spanish (Paz and maybe Trudy's influence) and quite a lot of Na'vi (Omatikaya influence, though Norm was thrilled to help when he caught wind that Spider was interested in learning). Sometimes he (subconsciously) mixes up a combination of any two or even all three and spews out mishmash sentences no one else understands immediately and has to stop and re-word.

• Because Quaritch is not the Big Bad Evil Guy the way he is in canon, Spider isn't really bothered by being called Miles. However, the nickname "Spider" somehow just stuck when he was very young so most people still call him that; it's mostly just Paz (and Quaritch) who call him Miles.

• Jake is not Toruk Makto in this AU, because with the RDA being more cooperative/less aggressive, he never needed to be. He and Neytiri are just normal (albeit well-liked/respected) hunters in the clan. Perhaps eventually a day will come when Toruk Makto is needed and Jake will have some reason to step up...but not yet. He's perfectly content being just a regular clan member.

• This has the side-effect of lessening Neteyam and Lo'ak's dramatic stunts as teenagers, because the legacy they're trying to live up to is simply "strong respectable hunter" rather than "legendary olo'eyktan Toruk Makto"

[romana-after-dark]

Sacrificial Lamb

Darkish!Marcus Acacius x Virgin!fem!Reader

Masterlist

Co-written with the bestest @ariundercovers thank you so so so much for helping me with this and adding so much!!!!

Summary: Desperate to win a battle, Marcus Acacius sends a request for a maiden to sacrifice her life and her body for the good of your city.

Warnings: NOT COMPREHENSIVE! This is a DARK FIC, treat it as such. Illusions and talk of human sacrifice, virginity loss, knife play, blood play, (it's not really play they are going at it), body carving, public sex, ritualistic sex, PIV sex, dark content but everyone is having a funky good time.

Immersivity: Reader is fem, had long hair, is called "little lamb" but that's not a reference to her size. Reader refers to herself as roman.

I'm a history major but this is not meant to be historical lol anchient history is not my area of interest. I tried to include things I knew, like Roman values, but thats about it.

4.5k words

***************

You’d sacrifice yourself on his altar again and again if he made you feel like this.

To feel his hands explore your body, rough skin with a gentle touch. To feel him kiss your lips, undressing you as dozens watched. To feel the prick of his knife defile you just as he did.

“Look at me. Look at me, only me. I am your god now.”

*

You were to be sacrificed for the greater good, for the gods to favor general Acacuis in this vital battle, a battle that would decide the fate of your city and all those in it. Should his armies fail, all those you held dear could be sold into to slavery, killed, or suffered much worse fates. So, when General Acacius put out a request, the highest calling a woman could offer outside of bearing sons, it surprised you that no one took it by the time word reached you outside the city. 

General Acacuis made a call to all the virgins of your city, asking to make the ultimate sacrifice, and when you stood in front of him in all his beauty, you were not fearful. You were resolute in your decision.

Now, he leans against his throne, eyeing you in your robes as you remain knelt to the ground on both knees, your body bowed before him in his parlor.

“Do you understand what you are sacrificing, little lamb?”

You don’t look up. You don’t dare. “Yes, my lord. I am to sacrifice my life so that my city and my people are safe.”

You can hear the sound of robes russling. “Not only that, but your maidenhood. The ceremony will require me to deflower you on an altar. Publically.”

Swallowing hard, you force down your anxiety. “I… I did not know that, my lord.”

He walks towards you, the sound of his footsteps the only thing signaling you of his approach. Suddenly, his voice is right in front of you. You dare not open your eyes. “Does this change your decision?”

You hesitate, body shaking. You would say yes, because of course you would, you just needed to breathe. “I… I-”

Sudden but gentle, you feel his hands on your face, coaxing you to look up at him and you do as he urges. His features strike you, angular but soft. His nose was aquiline, strong as he was, a symbol of his power and the genes he would breed into whatever woman he lay. Still, there was a softness about him, full cheeks and eyes that pooled in brown. His arms were like oak trees, dark and strong; freckles smothered his face but were only noticeable from this close. 

The General’s hands held your chin firm.

“Is this your decision, fair lady?” His eyebrows raise, frown lines in his face a telling sign of his age. “It is only yours to make, none other.”

Basking in his warmth, in the glow of his pained eyes, you nod. “Yes, my lord. It is my duty and my honor.”

He gives your face a little squeeze. “Good girl.” Releasing your head in favor of taking your hand, he speaks louder now, more formal. Gone is his warmth, once again your lord. “Rise.” He aids you to stand, hands moving to your arms, playing with the sleeves of your dressage. “Now, I must inspect you. Are you ready?”

You take a steadying breath, and when you release, you agree.

Slow and steady, the general pulls down the sleeves, relieving your breasts, stomach, and soon your unscathed womanhood. Your dress pools at your feet, your nakedness laid bare before your lord. General Acacius takes a step back, admiring you as he looks down from where he stands tall and proud, in his armor. He was practicing in the courtyard when you answered his call, and he had not changed, smelling such of masculinity that you craved him, carnally. Marcus Acacius paces around you, eyeing every inch you had to offer, viewing you like an animal at the market.

“Beautiful…” The general murmurs to himself before walking up behind you. The metal plating of his chest plate connects to your back, and a shiver of cold strikes your body, but when he wraps his arms around your person you are once again comforted. His body is so warm, fire and burning, burning, burning power so evident in his grasp. A sun god in your presence… Apollo in the flesh.

He caresses your body, his large right hand rising up to hold your breast, his left lowering to your untouched maidenhood. He tweaks your nipple with his fingers, tugging at it experimentally, and the other one peaks and stiffens in response. He groans in satisfaction and dips his head to mouth at your throat, lips and teeth scraping across your exposed skin. His fingers travel across your chest to the other side then, pinching and tugging at that nipple and you gasp at the way it sends a shock straight to your core.

But his other hand… that hand teases at your mound, fingers raking through the hair there. His hand parts your legs then, stepping wider to accommodate him. When his finger parts your folds, you hear a low chuckle. “Wet already, my maiden?” His fingertip trails up and down your crevices, catching at your untouched entrance once, then twice, and then hesitating at that bundle of nerves, swirling around it a few times. The way he plays with your folds makes you whimper, eyes closing as you rest your head back against his chest, worried that you might faint at the feeling of his hands all over you. You can feel him smile against your neck before he removes his fingers from you, but not before another long swipe through your soaking wet folds, collecting some of your slick that he’s managed to make pour out of you already. “You must wait for the ceremony, I fear… Still, a taste won’t hurt…” 

The general presses his fingers to your mouth, and you’re unsure for a moment, one hand lifting to grasp his thick wrist, cuffed with metal links. “Open, little lamb,” he commands, and you obey. You can only ever obey. His fingers press into your mouth, against your tongue, and you close your lips around them. The taste is foreign to you, but not unpleasant, and you start to greedily suck on his fingers, licking the tangy sweet arousal from the rough pads of his fingers.

He pulls away from you all too soon, hands groping your abdomen and ass for a long moment before he groans in displeasure and leaves you, alone and naked and overwhelmingly heated with arousal.

*

You were moved into the palace immediately, as preparation for the ceremony would take a few days. You say a tearful goodbye to all your friends and family; they are who you are doing this for, to protect them.

Still, you’d be lying if you had said you hadn’t found a new motivation, something else that piqued your interest. You hadn’t forgotten the general’s touch, his smell, his face. Marcus Acacius was angelic, a figure sculpted by the gods themselves; you could swear you’d seen his likeness on a statue somewhere. 

He watched as you bathed, handmaids scrubbing you down every day, washing your hair. Then, he sat there still as you stood, scanning over you as the maids doused you in perfumes and oils, clothing you in silk. You were to live your last days as royalty. Since entering his home, you were treated with nothing but utmost respect, feeding you the finest foods and wines, things you’d never been afforded in your simple lifestyle. You loved that he watched you naked, and you hoped you were pleasing to his eye.

He stood. “Leave us,” General Acacius ordered, his eyes directly on yours and never leaving as your handmaidens filed out. You’re standing in the tub still, your lord offering his hand for you to step out. You should be ashamed of your nakedness, you know it, but he was to deflower you in 2 days time, mark you with his sigil and that of Mars, piercing your heart with a knife in a prayer to Mars himself. 

General Acacius scans your body, his palm on your hip sliding up to cup your breast. He liked to play with your flesh, you’ve noticed, intimate moments such as these where he held you close, held you fast, comforted you even though there was no future for you past these final days.

“My beautiful sacrifice…” He murmurs, pressing his forehead to yours as you stand with heavy breaths. “Such a waste, such a shame…” 

“It’s not a shame, my lord…” You assure him, firm in your stance. “It is for the good of my city, my family.”

A quiet tsk, tsk, tsk falls off his lips.  “So much honor in such a young thing.” His lips brush yours, and you gasp.

“General Aca-”

“Marcus.” His voice is gruff, stern, ordering you to comply with this infringement on formality. “I will be inside you, soon enough. You may use my given name.” He places a hand on your cheek, thumb against the plush of your lips.

You nod against him. “M-Marcus, should we-”

He pressed himself fully against you, kissing you tenderly. When he pulls away, his eyes have the blackness that often accompanies these hushed encounters. As Marcus deepens the kiss, he squeezes your face so that your mouth opens to him.

“Such a shame…” He repeats, a low rumbling from his throat, pulling at your lip gently between his teeth. “To waste such a beautiful, honorable young lady… how is it no one has taken you as their wife, hm?” Ever careful not to harm his sacrifice, Marcus wraps his large hand around your throat as he licks a stripe up the column of your neck. “That no one has ever taken you to bed, ravaged your sweet body, claimed your maidenhood as theirs… seems almost unbelievable.”

Gasping at the implied doubt, you pull your face away from him but his hand remains on your throat, looking him in the eyes with earnesty, begging to be believed.  “M-my lord! I would not lie, I swear to you I am intact-”

He squeezes on your delicate neck, cutting off your words and just a little bit of your breathing, his eyes, usually dark chasms, are fiery and alight, not only demanding your submission but taking it. His clothed body presses against your naked form.

Still, his voice is comforting. “I believe you, sweet lamb. No one would lie in order to die by my hand in a ritual sacrifice. Relax, enjoy these final days.” Swift as lightning, Marcus’s lips were at your ear again. “And resist the urge to stuff your fingers in your cunt tonight. Let me be the one to break you, not the fantasy.” And with that, he left you standing there in the bathing room, your legs dripping with something other than water.

*

Your bare feet are cold on the marble floor. The rest of you is hot with anxiety.

Your last day on this earth, before you meet your painful end and join the souls of your lost loved ones in the otherworld. Paying your sacrifice meant no others would join you until their just time.

You were bathed, your hair brushed with expensive oils before it was woven in intricate braids at the top, falling freely at your shoulders. You were crowned in a laurel wreath, painted in gold. Loose white robes fell around you, a symbol of your purity, and you were draped in a purple sash. You were royalty, if only for today.

Were there drums? Or was the beating from you? The thud-thud, thud-thud of your heartbeat made it impossible to hear the people speaking to you, so you merely nodded along. Prayers were said by your handmaidens, all of them wailing to the Gods, crying out that this not be in vain. You’d grown attached in the week you’d been together, and for only a woman you’d wished you’d been brought to the general for a different purpose, brought to become Lady Acacius.

But your wishes were short lived.

You were raised to follow all things that made a good Roman. You were brave, honorable, respected authority, respected the household gods, loved your city and your family. All this came into play when you offered your body to the general. All this was in your heart as you walked through the opening door, leaving your attendants behind, and entering a room filled with only men.

Although the strange and distorted faces in the flames of candles scared you, your eyes were quickly pulled to him.

Him.

General Acacius stood in front of the altar, clothed in white and gold; he wore a matching gold laurel wreath to yours. 

The lighting accentuated his sharp angles, the shadow cast by his nose on to his cheek made your breathing stutter, drawing ever closer to him. Step by shaking step, you approached your fate.

Strong hands steadied you. “It’s alright, little lamb.” He assured you, speaking low and deep for your ears only. “I’ll take care of everything. Have no fear.”

And you don’t. Your heart rate drops to a normal pace, your body temperature cooling, save for your frigid toes. Nothing to be done there. Marcus undoes your robes, letting them fall at your feet in waves of purple and white-turned-orange by the flickering flames. When it’s all said and done, you were to be burned in a funeral pyre, the same flames burning down your body for the good of your people. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.

Next, he lays you down on the altar. The cool slab of marble sends a run of chills over your skin, but Marcus stands between your spread legs, warm hands rubbing on your goosed flesh. He makes it feel better. You try not to think too hard about the fact you are bare naked for at least 2 dozen men, but it was okay. Marcus was there. A stranger walks up and takes your hands and at first you gasp simply in shock.

“Do not worry, he is acting as instructed.” 

The man goes to tie your hands, and you passively protest. 

“My lord, I need not be restrained, I promise-”

“It is not to keep you here, little lamb.” He assures you, still caressing and kneading the meat of your thighs. It was incredible how large he was, how broad; his shadow swallows your body. “I do not wish to have anyone here who needs to be restrained. This is to keep your body taut as I mark you.”

When you die, you are to go to the underworld as all shall. When you meet Pluto, you are to show him the marking on your stomach, and he would know you were sacrificed and inform Mars, whose sigil would be marked next to the house of Acacius. If Mars finds your sacrifice worthy, your virginity, your life, your beauty and youth, he will grant the General good favor. 

But first, your maidenhood.

The room was dead silent as the General stripped down, unfastening the clasp at your shoulder. In wonderment, you watch as his body is revealed to you, even as the candles largely shine on his back. He was stunning. The peak of masculinity, of manhood, not only his body but his stature and presence so all encompassing that you can’t help but wonder if he was Juptier himself, come down from the heavens to take another maiden as his. You would gladly suffer Classisto and Io’s fates for once chance with him.

As your eyes travel down, you can still see some scars in the dim lighting; raised pieces of flesh that make you wish you could have tended to his injuries… but your thoughts are soon distracted. You’ve never seen a cock before, barely knew what it looked like, but as the General strokes himself approaching you, you were mesmerized. It was thick, thick enough you weren’t sure it could fit, but you’d never even tried to fit anything inside you, so how would you know? The tip was covered by a layer of skin that pulled back to reveal the head with every upstroke of Marcus’s hand… fat, blunt, ready to split you open. You’re well aware of the liquid leaking from you to the altar.

“Perfect offering, aren’t you?” He asks, but it's rhetorical, his eyes distracted as he reaches between your legs to play with that sensitive spot, that place your hand wandered to on cold, lonely nights, seeking comfort in your own touch. You weren’t completely clueless, you’d pleasured yourself plenty without breaking yourself open and you had done so minutes before beginning the ceremony. You wanted to be wet for him. Marcus’s eyes connect to yours as he touches your slicked up center; he knows what you did.

“I am ready, my lord.”

“It seems you are.”

*

His cock spreads the lips of your cunt with agonizing slowness, your voice not even trying to hide the moans of pain and pleasure to the crowd of men, many of whom you noticed were entering states of undress. Your body is already writhing, the slow pace driving you mad and you can already tell you’re moments away from begging for more, willing to be remembered as the young woman who died begging for cock. Just as you were about to burst, to scream at him to just do it, Marcus bends over you, pressing his forehead to yours. His eyes glow in the candlelight. One hand reaches up to where you are bound, interlacing with your fingers. “Hold on to me, little lamb.”

You do as you are told, as he thrusts into your body, breaking open your hymen and spilling the blood between your legs onto the altar, staining it with you forever. Your memory would lay here in his home the rest of his life, speaking to him even in prayer. 

Marcus fucks you now, his fat cock dragging in and out of your channel, claiming you again, and again, and again, and for a moment you forget where you are. You forget you’re being watched. You forget you are to die until Marcus slows his movements, pulling out the freshly sharpened knife meant for your skin.

“My little lamb, my offering, my perfect sacrifice…” He kisses your lips, something not a part of the ritual, and makes a show of him claiming your face for his audience. Marcus will take care of you, and your name will go down in honor for the rest of time.

Stuffed full of him, Marcus never stops fucking you, never stops sliding himself in and out of your cunt, teasing you as he pulls away, placing the knife at your stomach. It wouldn’t be deep; there wouldn’t be time to heal so it didn’t need to be. There was no sense in hurting you more than need be, he had said to you. 

Stretched out, your arms above your head and tied down with silks, your gasp in pain as the first mark is made, scraping over your skin. He begins with his sigil, smack dab in the middle of your stomach. As you glance down, noting the size of the mark he’s making, you wonder where Mars is intended to go, how there will even be space for the second mark he had to make. But those thoughts are tucked away as he begins to move his hips again, pounding himself deeply into you. Little trickles of red droplets bubble on your skin from the cuts, morphing your body into something that was his, and his alone. 

When you look at him, his eyes nearly black as the day you first entered his court, you wondered if he had any intention of marking Mars’ sigil on you. 

“I’m gonna take care of you, little lamb.”

WIth one last cut, he locks onto your eyes, gripping the knife still. You think this must be it, he will now take your life and you’ll die impaled on his cock. Instead, he takes the tip of the knife to his own stomach, careful and sure movements carving your first initial onto him. And then, his body joined yours again.

Nothing in this world felt better than blood on blood. 

He cut loose your binds and dropped the knife, the clatter echoing onto the floor as he climbed onto the altar, fucking himself into you with the vigor of a general on the battlefield, like winning this, winning you was what truly mattered. 

Suddenly you piece it all together and realize something. You realize that you weren’t going to die today.

Fearful of the repercussions, of the others' reactions when they figure out he wasn’t going to sacrifice you, your head turns to the dozens of men surrounding you. The candles were sparse and placed away from the altar, brighter near you, leaving you without much to work with in terms of vision. As your cunt begins to tighten in that all consuming feeling, your eyes trying to close in pleasure as you try to make out the figure in the room. Dancing shadows on the wall, figures combining and moving together; bent over and close and grunting, red and orange and yellow and black swirling together. You couldn’t tell if the sounds of skin on skin were from near or far anymore.

Marcus’s hand cups your face, turning you away from the debauchery surrounding you and back to meet his eyes.

“Look at me. Look at me, only me. I am your god now.” His eyes bore into yours, pounding your pussy so harshly you could hear the wetness as you are torn apart. Marcus grips your face harshly, but his other hand swirling your over sensitive clit is tender. “You only worship me now, my sweet offering. I am the only thing that matters to you.”

And he is.

General Marcus Acacius is your god, and you will worship knelt at his feet for as long as he shall have you.

His thrusts start to falter, and he picks your leg up, notching it in the crook of his elbow as he starts to push himself deeper, touching parts of your body you hadn’t known had any feeling at all. “Cum for me.” He demands, commanding your body to his whim the way he commands his armies. “Cum on my cock, little lamb.”

Your hands reach for his forearms, fingers gripping tightly into the strong, lean muscle you find there beneath your fingertips. “W-want-” You swallow hard, staving off that feeling in your belly so warm you no longer notice the cold on your back. “Want to be filled, my lord.”

The general cups your face, brushing his thumb over your lower lip. “You will, you will, but first,” The pinch on your cheek takes you by surprise. “You must cum for me.” He lets go, but does not relent in his demand. “Let me feel you, little lamb, let me feel you cum on a cock for the first time.”

It doesn’t take much more work on his part for him to build you up into a frenzy, your walls fluttering pathetically around him as you pant, heaving oxygen back into your body from every thrust that seems to knock it right out of you. His hand still holds tightly to your face, dipping his head down now to bite his teeth harshly into your lip, your jaw, then your neck. You whimper at the feeling, eyes rolling back in your head as the combination of rough and pain and the pleasure of his cock and his fingers working you, and you finally fall apart for him, your body spasming beneath his, back arching up into his movements.

“There it is, sweet one. Give it to me. Give it to your god.” His face turns positively wicked as he hikes your leg up a little higher, the hand on your face now moving down to your throat as he squeezes lightly, reminding you of exactly who you belong to, exactly who you’ve been promised to, urged to as the very sacrificial lamb. He only barely starts to cut off your breathing with his grip, but one of your hands reaches for his anyway, holding onto his wrist as he puts the added pressure against your throat.

Your body is still quaking beneath him as he works you right through that orgasm and sends you hurtling quickly toward another. Or, was it actually just the same one? There aren’t an thoughts left in your head to try and make sense of it, nothing left to try to figure out what’s going on in your body. 

It doesn’t matter now, anyway. You were his. Only his. You were General Acacius’ to do as he pleased with, and if he preferred to kill you with cock, you’d die happily that way, too.

Your blathering and bumbling beneath him slows as he lets go of your throat, growling with a frantic need above you. His thrusts stutter, hips spearing into you erratically, and you have a sense that perhaps his pleasure might come soon, too. 

“Please! Please, my lord, fill me. Fill me properly, I only want to please you-” Your words come out pathetic and whining, the strength of your orgasm short-circuiting your brain as you try to make sense of the situation, make sense of the pleasure and panic you feel.

“You’ll take my mark, and my cock, and my seed, little lamb. You’ll take everything I give you.” He groans lowly, a sound that bubbles up from deep in your chest, and you can feel the way he twitches inside of you. Then suddenly, he roars above you and there’s an explosion of warmth, a feeling that spreads throughout your belly, welling up into your chest and face, heating you from the inside out. You’re burning again, burning in white hot flames as he empties himself deep into your womb.

Everything pauses, pleasure soaking into your body, the sweat cooling on your skin as your God’s full weight crashes on you, protecting your body from the view of the onlookers finishing in and on each other around you. 

“Leave.” He barks, his face tucked into your neck.

A beat of silence.

“My lord… the sacrifice…” A nameless, faceless man objects from the corners.

 You begin to turn to him, but Marcus adjusts up and keeps you from looking. “They don’t deserve your gaze, little lamb.” Then, he sat up on his knees, cock still buried inside you. He looks to the crowd.

“I’VE HAD A VISION!” Marcus exclaims, shouting to the others. “Mars does not desire her to be sacrificed to him, but to be taken as my wife!” He looks down at you, brown eyes swimming with continued lust even as his cock softs in your channel. “Our children shall be blessed by him, great warriors and ladies… and we shall win our battle. Do you accept, little lamb?”

It wasn’t even a question for a moment.

*******************

Thank you thank you thank you for reading!!! I appriciate every like, reblog, and comment!!!!

A note, I decided to add a tip option with Buy Me a Coffee and Ko-fi. PLEASE DONT FEEL OBLIGATED A ALL!!! I do this for fun and enjoyment not to get paid. It's just there <3

I know the fandom seems messy right now, but you are all special <3

I dont have a taglist anymore, but follow @romana-updates to keep up!

Tagging those who expressed interest

@mangoslushcrush @yeet268 @littlekate @lunar-ghoulie @admiralackbarssugarbaby @jackie923 @fan-fiction-floozy @spidey-3 @princessanglophile @ladyofmidlo72 @fandxmslxt69

[mountkennedie]

Straggler

Kili Durin x human!reader

Summary: An au where everyone lives happily in erebor and kili is in love with you (lucky)

Warnings: ONLY TWO uses of y/n, and fluff ofc

A.N. i love kili and he loves me tbh.

Bagginshield mention lol.

Also: -ê khi love: my one love and Ghivashel: treasure of all treasures

Kili is 4'8, Reader is around 5'4

"You look beautiful in the sunlight," the dwarf beside you said. You jumped, you swore when you left this morning, and you didn't have any stragglers. However, here you are, with Kili Durin on your tracks. You weren't going to lie, you enjoyed the princes company, if only he gave you a warning beforehand.

You all had been thriving in Erebor upon a year now. Now that things had settled and riches distributed, everyone was able to return to a simpler life. Ori began exploring crochet after mastering knit. You enjoyed going on walks around the mountain, and Kili enjoyed you.

You looked down to him and furrowed your eyebrows, unsure if you heard what you thought you did. "I said um," he began to look sheepish, "you look beautiful in the sunlight, Y/n."

"Thank you," you bowed your head in appreciation, then began to continue your stroll when he said, "Wait!" He grasped your forearm, "may I join you this morning?" He gave you a warm smile in addition to the sweet eyes you could hardly resist.

"You already are KIli," I told him, returning the smile. "But sure, why not." He wasted no time in meeting you at your side. "I really love the view," your gaze followed over the trees and valleys and into the overwhelming beauty of Middle Earth. After being on the year-long quest and exhausting final battle, you can finally appreciate the scenery you're surrounded with. It sends waves of peace over you that you only wish to bask in until the end of time.

"So do I," he whispered. But instead of looking at the young rising sun over the horizon, his gaze on you didn't falter. To an onlooker, it would look as if his sight upon you had grown more intense.

You, of course, noticed this. "Kili, I'm serious!" You playfully shoved him to the side. You let laughter spill from your lips, and he joined you. You paced forward slowly, "you know... would you ever like to see it all?" Your voice matched your vision, very distant.

"All..?" He asked you whilst meeting your speed.

"Of middle earth. Would you ever want to see the entirety of our world?" You spoke quietly, thinking of how you would answer that question. In all honesty, you would. But not for a long time. You needed a couple of years before venturing on your next quest, and with the knowledge you now know, you would not want to go alone.

"I see the entirety of my world every day," he spoke softly. He stopped walking and looked at you. You halted and looked at him. He had a gentle smile on his face. Crossing the short distance, you stood before him.

"Must you always be a flirt?"

Looking up into your eyes, "I must," he mused.

"And why is that, Kili?"

"Y/n, -ê khi love, I think you know," he took your hand in his. He held you like you were the rarest treasure, and for how he was looking in your eyes, to him you were.

"Kili..." You were speechless. His eyes were studying every movement your face made, trying to learn as much as possible about what you were thinking. But you saved him the trouble, "amrâlimê." You had so desperately wanted to give that name to him. You smiled so brightly, and he returned it. It was debatable who out shined the other.

"Really?" He couldn't contain the excitement he felt inside. All the talks with his uncles about how properly court had finally paid off. He knew he needed to meet with Thorin and Bilbo as soon as possible, but it could still wait until he completed the courting tradition.

"So does that mean we'd give each other the braids?" You felt like a child for asking that question, but being human, this was new to you. Thorin had conveniently told about the practice yesterday.

"It does! It does, indeed." He reached back and released his shiny brunette hair for the silver clip he had installed and turned his back to you. You don't think you've ever seen him so eager. Upon picking up some strands, you heard your lover sigh deeply. If only you were a dwarf, to fully understand this significance. You've noticed Fili's braids. Maybe he's waiting on his turn since.

When you finish the braid, you let your fingers run through the rest of his locs, as if hypnotized. He turned to look at you, tears in his eyes. His hand took yours and placed a lingering kiss on the back of it. He did not break eye contact during the small gesture, and it sent waves of emotion through you. "Your turn, ghivashel."

His gentle tone woke you from your thoughts. You gasped a little and smiled. You turned your back to him and sucked in a breath, beyond excited to receive a braid of your own.

After finishing his portion, you hear Kili release an uneven breath. You turn around to see him with tears in his eyes. You don't ever think you have been gazed upon in such a way as he is gazing now. Eyes wet with tears, but full of passion and love that could never be shown to anyone other than his One.

You held his face in your hands and looked deep into those eyes. He leaned his forehead up to rest against yours, and you closed the gap. The feeling surging between the two of you could never be measured. Without a word, you both aimed for each others lips, a final collision to seal tradition.

It was languid and slow but full of life. Pulling away, you both looked each other in the eyes. "If only I could tell you how many nights I've laid awake... waiting for this moment, -ê khi love." His eyes looked over your face as if taking it all in for the first time. Not getting enough of every inch it crossed over.

"You will never have to wait again."

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Could I ask for some yandere alucard post season 3 with a s/o that isn't human or only part human? Like being half fae, nymph or siren. I just think the dynamics of that relationship would be quite different then say if the object of his obsession was human given his lack of faith in humanity in season 3s aftermath

A/N: I LOVE this question! It was so interesting to think about all the different ways the MC could be half-human and have that connection with Alucard. I did end up going with a mermaid/siren sort of creature as the original asker did send in an additional ask clarifying how they could picture this abused mermaid girl feeling kinship with Alucard because of his current distrust of humans, and I liked that element. I also chose a siren / mer create as they have abilities to manipulate/hypnotize their prey, an ability Alucard probably has as well with him being half-vampire. I ended up writing a very long outline in bullet points but felt that it didn't quite flow for HC, so I instead broke it up into smaller scenes below. I hope that’s ok. Sorry, it took so long. I was sick with some weird virus for weeks (lowkey feel like it’s mono or something), and could only handle work and family crap, like I barely had any motivation to live. And then when I started writing this, it sort of took on a life of its own lol. (What can I say? I love me some Alucard.) 

Anon also suggested I check out this manga- it’s called Becoming the Villain's Family and it’s about a siren who goes back in time and makes a marriage pact with a devil to prevent their untimely fates. I’m not a huge manga reader, but my sister is, so I’m going to recommend it to her and maybe we can read it together. 

Yandere! Alucard (Post-S3) w/ A Half-Siren S/O 

The fair creature did not see quite how it happened, for it had all transpired too fast. A deep guttural growl echoed from past the tree line, well beyond the corners of her vision as the very ground beneath the wagon’s feet began to shake violently. As swiftly and silently as a flash of lightning, the wagon she resided in was sliced in half, the metal cage that kept her prisoner acting as her only guard against an elongated talon from some sort of monster. The cage was tossed sideways, skittering along the dirt ground as the poor mer creature inside flipped over violently, her dehydrated human form and lack of clothing sending her soft, nearly translucent skin into the square welds hard enough to form bruises. 

“Retrieve the asset!” 

“Don’t let her escape!” 

“Are you crazy?! Fuck the asset!” 

Around her, a flurry of mixed male voices shouted out contradictory directions. With only the setting sun for light, it was difficult to make out who had yelled what. 

Then came more growls in addition to all the shouting. Then the shouting turned into screaming. And a handful of those screams turned into cut-off cries followed by loud squelching. A flurry of slices and swings from blades and swords interrupted what must have been the creature's onslaught, but it would certainly not last long. There would be more torn flesh, and more final yells- a final symphony of bloodshed to follow. 

Kneeling into an upright position, the fair mer creature pushed and pulled frantically against the metal door of her cage. The hinges had warped in the fall, bending just so, that if enough force was applied…

With a metallic screech, the young water maiden could kick her cage door from its battered hinges. Fortunately enough for her, none of her captors seemed to notice her imminent freedom, the lot of them busy battling hideous creatures beyond any comprehensible amalgam or imagination. 

Unfortunately for her, her sudden movement did not go unnoticed by one such creature. 

A smaller, fiendish-looking thing, with the body of a lizard, but the head of a vulture, and the tail of a scorpion mawed loudly at her, its stinger striking warningly at the ground. 

Not needing to be told twice, the young maiden leaped up and made a mad dash for the treeline on the other side of the clearing, opposite the line of creatures. 

As she made it past the treeline she watched as one of her imprisoners struck successfully at the rear of the small fiendish creature with the sharp end of a spear. It cut roughly into the monster’s backside, turning the horrid thing’s attention away from her back onto her captors. 

Pausing for a mere second, she took one last look at the few men still alive, fighting for their lives against the horrible creatures. Even if they were to win the fight, she swore it would be the last time she saw them. Beasts or no beasts, she was never losing her freedom again. 

✧ ✧ ✧

The bottoms of her feet stung with every step, and her calves burned worse every time she jumped over branches, landing on uneven ground. Her thighs were practically numb from the midseason cold, and her time forced to rest on the cold metal bars of her prison certainly did not help. But she refused to stop running. Even if she was unfamiliar with the practice of traveling upright on two extremities, she perished the thought that her inexperience might slow her down. She could not fail. She could not yet rest. Whoever won the fight between her captors and the creatures was certain to follow after her once the battle was done. She could not waste precious time. So despite pain and exhaustion, she pushed onward. 

After what felt like an eternity, although, if she were to judge by the moon, it must have only been a few hours, she found her legs could no longer support her weight, as her knees buckled beneath her, slipping on the soft embankment ground. 

‘Embankment?’ The maiden, feeling a final surge of hope, strained her neck to get a better look. It did appear that she had made it to a river bank, although it was a rather small one at that. Still, the sight felt like a miracle. It had been too long since her body was submerged, snug, within her element’s embrace. And given the choice between breathing her last breaths on the cold dry forest ground, or under a river’s soft current, she’d choose the river, any day. 

Using her arms to pull herself into the cold water, she breathed one final breath of chilled night air before slinking into the river water. Closing her eyes, the young maiden had but one thought: 

‘If this is to be my final resting place, then so be it.’ 

✧ ✧ ✧

The next morning started the same way all mornings do: the sun rose in the sky, the birds and bugs began their daily chirps, and a very forlorn-looking Adrian Tepes, known currently as Alucard, son of Dracula exited his castle in search for food, his usual basket in hand. Unusual however were the two corpses that greeted him as he passed the castle steps. 

Alucard paid the bodies no mind, he didn’t once glance in either of their directions. He kept his eyes forward, locked onto the foliage and wildlife hidden within the forest line choosing to pretend the bodies were no longer there. Yes, he knew they were there. Of course, he knew. He was the one to string them up after all. But if he were to acknowledge the corpses' presence, then he would also be required to acknowledge the circumstances that led them to be staked there, and that was something not even the great slayer of Dracula could do. So instead Alucard did what he could: he adjusted the basket in his arms and began mentally preparing the meal he would make. 

Coming to the river bank, Alucard felt something was off. He sensed another presence nearby. Kneeling down to the water, he kept his ears open for any movement within the trees but did not hear any. 

‘Odd.’ The dhampir waited for a spell before resuming his usual activities. He methodically removed his boots, before rolling up the ends of his pants, as he prepared to wade into the river. He had found a comfortable position, balanced on the river rocks below his feet when he noticed another oddity. 

“Where have all the fish gone?” 

The river, once teeming with fish, ones even brave enough to stick around as he waded into the water, were nowhere to be seen. Besides the rushing of water over the river bank, Alucard could not hear them swimming around within the water below. 

Turning his head, he found a single glint of scales reflecting the morning’s rays a few meters from where he had been standing. But just one fish? Or perhaps, a damn of some kind was preventing them from moving freely. Alucard made a move to investigate closer. But then, just as he turned to do so, what appeared to be an incredibly large fish leaped out of the river, and flopped onto the bank. It writhed around, flopping this way and that before rolling over to face him. It was at that moment Alucard realized why all the other fish had disappeared. There was no damn, no net. It was because of this… this creature. 

✧ ✧ ✧

The young mermaid awoke with a start, the deep echo of footsteps underwater had vibrated her awake. From where she lay, her vision was obscured, but she could make it out that the being was human in nature, standing on two legs, with only two arms to boot. It did not possess any claws or animal characteristics like any of the night creatures from the night before, nor did it appear to resemble any of the men who had taken her. 

The maiden stayed as still as stone, hoping this new strange human would grow bored of waiting for a meal to catch, turn around, and go home. But luck, as it had proven time and time again as of late, was not on her side. 

The man made a move towards her position, and she found she could not help the fear that bubbled up from inside her chest. The river was too small for her to swim through. More so, moving within the water would only create splashes to further catch this stranger’s attention. If she wanted to get away, she’d need to shift back to her human form and make yet another run for it on foot. 

Using the strength her long waterlogged rest had given her, she propelled her body out of the water, onto the river bank. As soon as her full body was on land, she writhed and wriggled, doing all she could to shake the excess water from her body. 

Her earlier set of legs had once again merged into a fishtail, strong and thick, with grooved fins to match. Her abdomen and chest were plated with scales all up the sides. And as she shook herself dry, several of those scales slid off her body into the dirt. Her ears, previously flesh and pointed more like an elf’s, had pulled back, with loose tentacle-like fins spouting out around their outer shell. In the daylight, she knew there was no mistaking what she was. But if she was to change her form quickly, it was a risk she needed to take. 

Despite the morning's warm sun, her body did not dry as fast as she had hoped. The maiden used her arms, and her now-clawed fingers to pull herself up further, finally gaining purchase on one bark of a tree, as she did her best to twist around and face this stranger head-on. 

Letting out a hiss, she bore her fangs at the strange blonde man standing before her. Only the man did not seem intimidated, nor shocked to see a creature such as herself. If anything, he appeared, at ease. Was this perhaps a trap? She hissed again but found herself on the side of surprise when the seemingly human man bared his own set of fangs and hissed back. 

✧ ✧ ✧

‘A mermaid?’ Alucard watched, amused, as the young creature did her best to appear menacing to him. If only she knew, how instead of fear, Alucard felt a rush of reassurance at the sight of her inhuman features. 

‘Humans,’ he thought bitterly. It was two humans who had hurt him most of all. Not even his own father’s war on humanity had harmed him the way those two did. His father left him for dead paled in comparison to the shame and torment he carried with him from that one night.  

Had a human shown their face on his property, he’d… Well, Alucard was not certain what he would do should they refuse his order to leave. But whatever he decided, it would not be a fate any would enjoy, that’s for certain. 

Thankfully, with the very distinct mer-features of this individual, that point was moot. He did not need to threaten disembowelment or an eternity of torture as a spawn, Alucard felt no such need to. 

He took a step closer, taking in her unique features. Her eyes were large and dark, almost pure pools of black. He could feel the pull luring him in closer the longer he looked into them. Her skin was almost opaque, despite its color. At certain angles, rays of the morning sun seemed to shine through her body, as opposed to around it. And her tail, no doubt the most impressive of her peculiarities, glinted impressively, making her an almost otherworldly mirage against the browns and greens of the surrounding greenery. 

Of course, no sooner than Alucard could admire such an ethereal sight, her tail began to lose some of its luminescence, growing duller by the second. The previously shiny scales that overlapped each other began to flake off, one by one. Down the middle of her tail, from where her belly button would have been on her abdomen had she been a human, what scaled skin remained began to crack, viscously, like a deep fissure that would not heal. The fissure continued to grow in depth and width as Alucard came within feet of her. 

She hissed for a second time at his forward movement, but Alucurd was undeterred. Smiling a sort of melancholy smile, he paused before opening up his maw, revealing his impressive fangs with a hiss of his own.

At his revelation, the creature’s demeanor changed abruptly. Gone was the fear and hatred in her eyes, instead replaced by a much more benevolent wonder. 

She opened her mouth, the tentacles around her ears shriveling into themselves, her ears changing to a more elven point as they came to rest flatter against her head. Alucard watched as her fangs dissipated too, the sharp canine points rounding themselves down into very simple humanoid-looking teeth. The back of her throat opened and closed, but very little sound came out. If she was trying to communicate, it seemed a verbal conversation was currently off the table. 

“I am Alucard Tepes, son of Dracula and Lisa Tepes.” Alucard spoke, taking the lead for her. “And I am not human.” 

The mermaid closed her eyes as she leaned back against the tree bark, wincing once or twice as a very slime-covered, human-looking bottom half cracked free from the dried shell of her former tail. She used her hands to pull the husks away from her body, leaving every bit of her person on display. 

Alucard cleared his throat before deciding to remove his shirt and give it to her. He tossed the white shirt to the maiden who caught it in one hand. Bringing it in to smell, she sniffed it before looking back at him curiously. 

“If you wish to spend the walk back to my castle naked, I won’t stop you. But as I’m sure you’ve learned, people up here spend most of their life clothed.” 

She turned her head in the opposite direction as if to say, ‘So?’ before ultimately relenting, pulling the white top over her head. 

Making a move to stand, her legs wobbled, giving out underneath her. But before she could fall, by the grace of his vampiric speed, Alucard managed to catch her, one of his arms looping under hers around her shoulder. Upon noticing the sudden conflict, the mermaiden hissed again but made no move to shove him off. Making another choked-off sound, from the back of her throat, she tried speaking again. 

“Ghhank hou.” Frowning, she cleared her throat before trying again. “Thgank cou,” her voice was quiet, and yet deep and guttural at the same time as if she was holding back. 

“So you can speak,” Alucard commented as he helped her walk a distance, finding her balance. 

The young maiden nodded, before shaking her head. “Youg may naught want mee too.” She blinked her large, dark eyes at him, pointing to them, them down to her throat as she did so. “Sssighh-rhen.” 

Alucard paused his walking, staring his golden orbs back at her. In the light, the mermaid watched as they glittered and shined, an almost metallic color, reminiscent of pirates’ gold, lulling her into a sense of security. She gave off a warning growl, having caught on to the fact that she was not the only one with influential abilities. Alucard blinked twice, breaking off the trance. 

“As I said before,” he reiterated, leading the way back to his castle, “I am not human.” 

The mermaiden watched him, as an almost smirk graced her inhumanely beautiful face. “Gooodd,” she hissed out. 

✧ ✧ ✧

“That is how the castle came to be in my possession.” 

Alucard led the young mermaiden down the many hallways and corridors of the castle, telling her the story of how he, along with Belmont and Sypha, were tasked with defeating Dracula. He stopped to point out various rooms along the way, the ones he was the most familiar with, anyway. There was still much of the castle that felt foreign to him. It was as if he walked the rows of a graveyard, rarely stopping to notice yet another name on a tombstone. How many hands had helped build this place? How much of their blood was shed to gather all the infinite knowledge and wealth that was kept here? Alucard did not know. Nor was he certain he wanted to know. 

Walking past the various debris and carnage still left from their battle with Dracula, Alucard ushered her into his father’s former study, now his study. In the middle of the room sat one large rather ornate chair, placed before a cracked fireplace. In the chair was a crumbled blanket and pillow. On the small table next to it, a cold long-forgotten cup of tea. The items together suggested this chair was used in recent days for sleeping, not for sitting and reading or studying of any sort. 

The mermaiden narrowed her eyes at that. Surely, even with this battle, Alucard claimed had taken place within his home, there were bedrooms and living quarters left unbothered. Why would someone in possession of such a grand and luxurious home sleep sitting up in a chair? Or perhaps, was it a question of biology, not psychology? Did a being like Alucard require sleep at all? 

As the mermaiden contemplated, Alucard kneeled down to start a fire, but not before vaguely gesturing at the crack that ran up the front brick of the fireplace. “As you can see, the fight was not limited to one area or room.” 

“Bprokeghn,” the mermaid nodded before gesturing herself to the chair and blanket set-up. “Behd?” 

Alucard cleared his throat, as he stoked the beginning flames of the fire. “My room was… damaged, yes.” 

Seemingly content with that answer, the mermaiden turned her attention to other parts of the room. 

Off to the right there were various bookshelves and texts. And on the left? A modest oak desk sat under a large painting of a beautiful woman. Her hair was golden, almost appearing to glow under the warm hue of the fire’s dancing light. Her eyes were large and hopeful, and her size petite but strong. In her hand, she held a white flower, although its beauty paled in comparison to hers, it was a lovely touch against the dark maroon dress she was wearing. 

“Prehty,” she said, stopping to admire the woman in the painting. 

Upon hearing her words, Alucard looked up, a soft smile having formed on his face. “Yes,” he said. “She was beautiful.” 

Glancing back at the man, the mer creature noticed his hair was blonde and rather lovely as well. Not as gorgeous as her own siren’s locks of course, but that was understandable. She pointed to the hair of the woman in the painting before pointing to her own, and then finally, to his. “Prehty too.” 

✧ ✧ ✧

From where he stood in the kitchen, Alucard watched amusedly as the young woman tried taking a bite of her grossly undercooked fish using a knife and fork, stifling a laugh every time she would manage to grip one utensil only to drop the other. Her less-than-human approach to everyday things made Alucard feel at ease. She was not a lying, conniving human he had to watch out for, she was not biding her time waiting to stab him in the back. Quite the contrary: she was blunt and rather oblivious to human social conventions. 

She had very little reservations when it came to nudity, Alucard had come to discover. If it wasn’t for his polite, insistence, she would have continued to roam the castle naked. Dwelling deep underwater made her rather immune to things like catching a chill. Alucard was similar, he did not feel the cold the way humans did, although he was not entirely immune to it. He would surely suffer frostbite should he choose to venture outside in the dead of winter without any clothes on his back. However, unlike a human, and more like a vampire, it would take more than freezing exposure to do him in. 

It was almost comforting in a way, to share the castle with someone who’s biology was surprisingly close to his. She was more unhuman than human most days, her residual scales and sharp claw-like nails coming back once her body had returned to full-health. Her teeth had also increased in length, although Alucard suspected she could control their sharpness at will to some degree, her opting to keep her incisors short and squared, more human-like, whenever the two would talk walks around outside the castle. 

The mermaiden also had an interesting diet. She preferred her food cold, if not raw. Even things like fish and other meats, she refused to eat properly cooked. Alucard briefly recalled the first time he had tried to offer her dinner. He steamed her fish the same way he steamed his, and presented it to her, expecting gratitude. It was humourous now, but back then he recalled being rather dissatisfied with her indignant reaction. She hissed, and berated him for serving her something ‘burnt’, or ‘burrrnt’ as she had called it. 

Alucard discovered it was less of a preference and more of a requirement when he found her eagerly licking the blood from a freshly killed and skinned hare he had fetched for dinner. It seemed that she, like him, and like the many other supernatural creatures, had a penchant for blood that was born out of a necessity, and not mere cruelty. With her diet of raw and bloody food, her skin appeared healthier- still as shiny and translucent, but less gray. Her human form’s skin was less cakey and dry, and when she did change back into her tailed form, which was rather often given how much she enjoyed lounging in one of the castle’s large communal baths, her scales shed much less than they had when they first met. Upon her initial arrival at the castle, Alucard found she’d leave scales behind her wherever she walked, the same way a lover might lay out a trail of rose petals. Of course in this case, there was no intimate surprise waiting for him behind closed doors (not that he’d want one given his past circumstances, anyway), but a very brash and temperamental half-siren, usually impatiently awaiting yet another “useless” lesson in human conventions. 

“Naught fun-ie,” she hissed, under her breath, well aware of Alucard’s amusement. “No need for toools underwater.” She dropped both her knife and fork unceremoniously onto her plate before crossing her arms, looking like a wilful toddler. 

“There’s no one to impress here,” Alucard assured her. “Besides, even without a fork and knife I’m sure you eat like a magistrate compared to Belmont. The rodents outside have more manners.” 

“Belmonnt,” the fair maiden repeated, picking up her fish with her bare hands. “Frrend.” 

“Yes. Although, I haven’t seen him or Sypha for quite some time.” Alucard answered, just a hint of loneliness creeping into his voice. 

“Hadd frend wonss.” Biting into her fish, she tore a chunk of flesh off with her teeth, a satisfied groan leaving her body as some of the excess moisture dribbled down her chin. “Huumann too.” She swallowed her bite of fish down, not bothering to chew much at all. “Dyed.” She licked her lips in satisfaction. “Beectraaid.” 

“Wherever humans are concerned, such possibilities are never in short supply.” Alucard agreed, handing her a cloth napkin to wipe her chin. “It is their nature.” 

Choking down the rest of her fish, the mermaiden swallowed harshly again before asking, “Owtsighed?” Of course, the two giant stakes housing decayed corpses had not escaped her notice on their way inside. 

Alucard retrieved her empty plate, moving to place it in the sink. Closing his eyes, he desperately tried not to remember the feel of the silver cords burning his skin, the way he suffocating under Taka and Sumi’s gaze, how if it were not for his sword and the magical component of it, it’d be his body flayed and strung up outside instead of theirs. Despite not having had anything to chew or eat, Alucard swallowed hard as well. 

“Yes,” he finally said.  

✧ ✧ ✧

“Where are wee going?” The mermaiden asked, her vocabulary and annunciation having improved much over the last couple of weeks. 

Dressed in a relatively sheer nightgown and robe, the young woman begrudgingly followed Alucard, already dressed for the day, as he led her over to the remains of the Belmont hold. Upon reaching the cleverly designed pulley system, Alucard lifted the safety bar of the lift and gestured for her to get in. 

The young mer woman bared her teeth but did not hiss, a vast improvement of manners and trust on her part. 

“You may recall in the past, I’ve mentioned a man named Belmont, Trevor Belmont.” Alucard set the bar back down, clicking it into place, before pulling one of the levers to begin their descent. 

She nodded. “Friend. Miss him.” 

Alucard furrowed his brow. “I do not believe I’ve once said I missed his company.” 

The young woman shrugged her shoulders, a form of nonverbal human communication she had recently picked up on. “Still,” she wagged a finger, disapprovingly. “Can tell. No want to be alone.” 

Having reached the bottom of the lift, Alucard secured the platform before exiting, seemingly eager to remove himself from their current conversation. “I speak his name frequently because he has gifted me a rather large piece of his family’s inheritance for safekeeping. Without my permission, I might add.” 

Flicking a large switch on the wall, the mermaiden watched in awe as hundreds of blue flames suddenly sparked alight, illuminating an expansive cavern of towered rows and rows of books and other meticulously organized collections. 

“This,” Alucard extended his arm out, showcasing the vastness of the space before them, “Is the Belmont Hold. It possesses all the knowledge the Belmonts learned on creatures of the night, the collection starting generations ago. Everything any Belmont learned has been recorded onto paper, and stored somewhere within these tomes.” 

Temporarily blindsided by excitement, the mermaiden found herself quickly making her way down several sets of stairs, her balance thankfully having improved tenfold, as she ignored the darker implications of Alucard’s words. 

“So much boooks!” She cried out, settling on entering a random upper row of tomes, pulling one out of the shelf. “So much papper!” 

Alucard nodded, coming to join her. “I take it your people do not have much use for such records underwater?” 

The young mer woman nodded, running her clawed fingers delicately over the inked pages. “Runes. Maghik. No paper.” 

Carefully, Alucard took the book from her hands and placed it back onto the shelf where it belonged. Before the mermaiden could bare her teeth or hiss at him in irritation he had already begun climbing down a nearby ladder, calling for her to follow. “Come. The books are impressive, but they are not what I wish to show you.” 

Reaching the lowest level before her, Alucard smiled softly as his eyes were met with the familiar scene of a magic mirror, and open chest. How strange to think he and his friends stood on this very ground when Sypha successfully managed to summon the castle. How strange to think right there, under his feet, was where Adrian Tepes died and Alucard of Wallachia truly began. 

There was a time when Alucard believed he and he alone would be the one to ever stand upon this, practically hallowed ground. Belmont was not yet sure if he wished to resume the responsibilities of his namesake. And Sypha, well, Sypha had chosen to follow Belmont in whatever trouble he managed to get himself into. Who knows if they would be back, if they ever intended on coming back? At the end of their journey, there was Alucard, left alone to shoulder the burden of both their families’ legacies. 

Trevor had told him not to make the castle his grave, but to use it and the hold to… help people. Such a task seemed near impossible when you were one dhampir, isolated far away from the rest of the world. But then, Alucard reflected, along came Taka and Sumi, and perhaps, he had once thought, he would no longer have to be alone. 

They were so eager to learn, but they were also so eager to leave. They did not come intending to stay, Alucard knew this, and yet, he could not help the way he drew their lessons out, making sure to be as detailed as possible. If they must go, he supposed, he could make it so they did not leave for a while. It was foolish to think his desires would go unnoticed by the two humans. More foolish perhaps, to expect them to understand. Alucard had been wrong. 

They sensed he was less than forthcoming, Alucard could not deny that was true. But he never lied, not once to them. But in their humanity, in their hurt and in their pain and guilt and anger they felt they were deceived. Perhaps deception was so readily on their mind because they had arrived with a plan to play him for a fool all along. 

Either way, it was fatal on their part. Alucard may have wanted them to stay, but he did not need them. They alleviated his loneliness, but they were not necessary companions, not like Trevor or Sypha. They were far too different, far too divested from the line of existence Alucard walked to ever truly understand him. Being human, they ignorantly believed themselves to possess so many options of their own, but as fate had proven: they too were wrong. 

But this young woman, this siren, this mermaid, she was different. She did not come seeking him, rather their meeting was entirely accidental. And this time, the playing field was even: she needed him just as much, if not more, than Alucard wanted her. It was different this time. Here, within the Belmont hold and his castle, she was the outsider. And no matter how long she stayed with him, no matter how hard she tried, she would remain less human than Alucard. Next to her, he was not a monster or a beast, no. 

At her side, he appeared solely as Wallachia’s savior, Alucard, and he was neither human nor monster. 

Coming back to the present moment, Alucard watched silently as the mermaiden approached the glass display case of vampire skulls. He watched as her eyes widened, and her fists clenched, before she spun around, her fangs bared. “Exsplain, now!” 

“The Belmonts hunted creatures of the night for centuries. They came to Wallachia hunting Dracula and his army of vampires.” 

“You said Belmont friend!” 

“He is- was. As I have said to you before, he aided me in my journey to defeat my Father Dracula, to prevent him from securing the extinction of the human race.” 

The mermaiden tilted her head to the side. “Buut why? You vampire.” 

“Not entirely,” Alucard countered. 

The mermaiden’s eyes squinted. “What?”

“The woman in portraits you’ve so admired within the castle, she was my mother, Lisa Tepes, and she was human.” 

Enraged, the mermaiden’s face contorted into an expression of anger, her nostrils flaring with every huff of air she took. “Liar!” She accused him, making her way around the side of the cabinet, trying to move past the dhampir without encountering him directly. “You said humans betrayed! You said not like them! You lie!” 

“I did not lie. I never told you I was wholly vampire, nor did I once say I was not part human.” Alucard mirrored her movement, cutting her off before she could reach the stairs. “I aided humanity only to be betrayed by humans. I do not belong in their world, nor do they belong in mine.” 

“Nor in minesss!” She snarled. “You human. Not friend. Not anymoresss.” Shoving past Alucard she began up the stairs before she felt a hand on her wrist yank her back. Whipping around, she found herself face to face with Alucard, his expression angry, his fangs elongated and on clear display. 

“And where will you go? Your human charade may not disturb me but it is bound to alert others. There is no city, no town where you could travel that they would believe you to be one of their own.” His voice was deep, dark, and full of disdain. 

“Then I go home,” she retorted. “With othersss like mee.” 

“Do you think they will accept you now you’ve lived with a human, lain with a human?” 

“Half,” she spit into his face before sneering: “Half huumannn.” 

Alucard did not even flinch, entirely unphased by her vulgar action. “Human nonetheless,” he said, the ice in his veins offset only by the golden fire in his eyes. “Not even they would welcome you back now. There is nowhere you can go, no one who would welcome you. I,” he spoke, baring his fangs, “am all you have left. I am the only one who understands.” 

The mermaiden opened her mouth to speak, but could not find the words. She closed her mouth before opening it again, still hesitant on how to respond. If it was not as serious of a moment, Alucard would have laughed: she truly looked like a fish out of water. 

Careful as not to spook her, he slowly raised one hand, using it to wipe away a stray tear that had fallen from her eyes. How strange a sight to see a siren crying, awful yet beautiful at the same time. Like him, Alucard thought. 

“You are the only one who could possibly understand me. You need not ever leave.” Alucard used his other hand to take one of her own, and guide it, resting it atop his chest. “I do not wish to be alone anymore.” 

The maiden choked back more tears, shocked she was shedding them in the first place in Alucard’s presence. 

Prior to those horrible humans taking her, tears were not something the mermaiden had ever experienced. Living underwater, she was surrounded by saltwater. Even on the occasions she was consumed by great emotion, her eyes behaved no different, felt no different than they did being in their usual full-contact with water as they were everyday. But after she was taken, she found the ability to cry, something she despised. It burned the skin of her cheeks with hot shame, her throat felt too tight for air: the process of crying was foreign, and undeniably painful. She prayed it would not become a normal occurrence for her. She swore the moment she was free of her captors, she would never shed a tear again. And then she met Alucard. And he was…

Sweet. He was kind. He was not an ignorant, vengeful human. Surely, he would not give her reason to cry. They were of the same kind, she and him. He would harbor no hate for her in his heart. 

How foolish of the girl to think hatred was the only feeling capable of creating pain, of making remorse. Afterall, ‘love’ was just as powerful. ‘Love’ was just as dangerous. 

Deep down, the young siren knew the dhampir’s words were true: there was nowhere else she could go, there was no one else who would understand her, and care for her the way he did. 

In fairness, he was not fully human, he was half vampire, and his father was the great Lord Dracula to boot. He was not simple in the way other humans were. He was not stupid in the way people were. He was educated and well-aware of the fragility of egos, the slow passing of time… He did not look at the world through a mortal lens. The mermaiden knew she could do worse, in choosing someone to trust, in picking someone to rely on. 

Then again, he was half-human. She was wise to fear him, to doubt him. He may have meant what he said, when he told her she need not leave, but that did not mean she needn’t want to. But she was so far from home, so far from more of her own kind. Who else left in this region ravaged by night creatures and monsters would open their home to her the way he had? Perhaps it was wiser to stay. 

Did she even possess a choice in the matter?

Even withIn the arms of that former stranger, she felt more forsaken than she had when those evil traders first captured her. She felt so alone… Gods… 

She, too, wished not to be alone anymore. 

“Ssstay.” 

“What?” Alucard’s head snapped up at the sound of her words. “Truly?” He could not help the hope that seeped into his voice. “You wish to stay with me?” 

Before him, the mermaiden nodded, yet another human expression she had come to love over the past few weeks. “Yessss,” she hissed out, her voice still nasally from her earlier tears. “I ssstay.” 

A/N: Holy shit! Almost 8,000 words here. And to think I did it all while fighting the worst virus of my life! (See, THAT just goes to show you how strong my love for Alucard is. 

Don’t forget to Like & REBLOG!!!

And if you enjoyed it, feel free to Tip Me on Kofi! 

[mochinomnoms]

You ever think about how, since there are potions that can turn merfolk into humans (and if The Little Mermaid II is canon, can turn humans into merfolk) how the Octatrio would react to a Yuu who gave one a try? (Or even a potion that makes Yuu a beastman/fae for the Diasomnia boys and beastmen)

I'm pretty sure they'd be all freaked out, cause I believe transformation potions like that are illegal for regualr or recreational use. I believe Leona mentions it either right before or during his overblot battle. So first off they'd be a little concerned on how you got your hands on such a potion lol

Personally, I think the potions are regulated closer to a medicine-combination-traveling visa? Like you need to establish a place your visiting that requires it, get government approval, and then make sure you take it at the prescribed times. I imagine that the transformation potions can be painful, since your changing your body, or can lead to cases of identity theft/fraud, which is probably why they're so tightly regulated. Azul and the twins have potions they have to take regularly, but were only given them because they are attending NRC. The nurse probably monitors their potions akin to a prescription.

In order for Yuu to get a transformation in the first place, they'd have to sign up for the potion, probably to visit their partner's family. So if the octotrio are going back home with the intention to introduce you to their family, why not assimilate with the locals! It takes weeks after paying and filing to get approved and send a prescription. But you have your potion ready to go and visit your beloved's family! The guys are a bit struck by how determined you were to get this done, especially when a water breathing potion would've been just as good and much easier to obtain.

“But I wanna get used to the sea, what if we decide to have our home and family there? Water breathing potions aren't super sustainable in the long run, and—why are you staring at me like that?!”

Yuu just accidentally sealed their fate with their octotrio boy(s), they might want to consider the possibility of getting married a bit sooner than anticipated.

[irunaki]

these guys seem interesting!!

*rubs hands mischievously*

so!!!! first one is Dystan :) used he/him prounums, is aroace and has 29 years

He is a elthingt, thats a specie that has the main traits the branch-like horns and tail, they also have it on the shoulders and tip of the ears. they are rather rare, and i can make another post just talking about this specie if u want to

heres his age reference i ddi some time ago

so:

1-3 years: Born on the 3º island, in a small village

5 years: The war bettween Hokht and Anghuliums gets worse, desvasting his village since it was in the middle, loses his family and home. he manages to escape

7 years- after two years of just running away and trying to find a place to live, usually staying in orphanages, a couple of lochtys adopts him, so he moves to the west of the insland to live with them

super lazy illustration of it

at 17 years he signs to the army, still on the war bettwen Hokht and Anghuliums, inicially in the rescue part, wanting to help with the ones who might be suffering what he did but 3 years later he gets transfered to the fighting part due to lack of soldiers.

23: is at the wrong place at the wrong time, by that it means he stepped on a mine bomb. fortunatly elthingt's instincts are pretty fast and the bomb wasnt really strong, so he ddint die but part of his face was disformed, losing a bit of the lip and cheek, and getting blind from the right eye.

24: leaves the army and starts looking for another job, travelling around the islands

25: finds a job as bodyguard for the Lenon family, a family of wealthy demons inn the 1st insland, in the kingdom of Bleshram

heres the family

and thats it, hes been working with them till now :3

extra info:

when he was in the army there was a man that was REALLY in love with him, like constantly flirting (horrible flirt btw), sending gifts, doing declarations to the point that Dystan almost got happy when he died on a battle

nowwith the bodyguard job, he really enjoyys conversations with Firith, the second son, even if most conversations are him just listening (he isnt a big speaker)

listening to him complaining about being rich^

he really likes horses and to cook, specially spicy food

he always sends letters to his mothers, and goes visit them often

bonus of da boy smilling

old drawing lol

OK NEXT ONE

not so long cuz i dont like them as much as i like Dystan lmao

ok so, Marya and Mario

Marya is 18, a human, she/her and bi?didnt decided yet

Mario is 7, hes a boy

i changed their desings slightly since then but not that much

they were born in Bleshram. their father dissapeared a bit before Mario was born and that lead to a deep depression on their mother, who then died of a sickness from being vulnerable.

also, Bleshram is a mainly-demon populated kingdom, so its a bit harder to steal to live being a human cuz humans r dumber and slower but she does what she needs

uhh then a rich demon kinda kidnaps them to force MArya to work for him, but he actually makes their life way better

the red haired one (Netami)

tysm for asking!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Here's doodles of them as a bonus

[sansaorgana]

— DECEPTION (IV)

DECEPTION MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Elf!Reader // Adar x fem!Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — Your relationship with Adar develops and you already see he is going to be a completely different kind of a partner than Sauron was. You're trying to gain your new husband's trust and you accompany him and his army during the attack on Tirharad where you get to witness the Orcs' battlefield havoc for the first time with your own eyes.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I am hyperfixating on this fic so much and it feels amazing to be so devoted to writing again. In general, the brainrot is real when it comes to The Rings of Power and I have not expected it but it is the most welcome. I already loved Season One but nothing could have prepared me for Season Two! 💕 Because of that, this fic will most likely have more parts than I have planned, so be warned already. I also might have an idea for a fic with Annatar but I would rather make it a long one-shot instead of starting yet another multichapter... But we will see... 🤔 I start my job soon and I honestly have no idea how I will be able to focus there to learn all my tasks if all I can think of is Adar and Sauron lol

WARNINGS — forced/arranged marriage, Reader is NOT a good person – she is proud, greedy, fake and corrupted by Sauron, "love" triangle situationship, every trigger from S01E06 (death, battle, violence) + Reader is not very fond of the humans and considers them a lower form of life (she is Sauron's lover, okay? I do not share her beliefs because I am a human, too)

WORD COUNT — 5,570

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

DECEPTION (IV)

Tirharad was close but the Orcs could not travel freely in daylight. Even hidden by the thick forest, when the sun rose high up enough, they had to hide. So, you were standing by your horse and watching them setting up a small camp in the middle of the woods. Adar was standing nearby and you could overhear his conversation with Glûg.

“Are we attacking tonight, Lord Father?” The Orc asked.

“Tomorrow,” Adar answered and squeezed his arm reassuringly. “Tonight I shall send the scouts to observe the village,” he explained and Glûg nodded at him before going away to tell the news to his friends.

Adar approached you and you slightly flinched, which was an unplanned and uncontrolled reaction. He spotted it and froze for a short while, refusing to get any further. You were surprised to see that he seemed to respect your personal space and he was ready to back off any moment after realising you were not comfortable with him being around you now. On the other hand, considering the tortures he had been through, it made sense that he was sensitive about the concept of violating someone’s space.

When you first had seen him, he had terrified you. And the idea of marrying him had been the most dreadful. But now you were slowly realising that as cruel as he was to his enemies – he would not be a husband as brutish.

“What am I doing here?” You asked him, quietly. Then, you looked up to meet his gaze. “If it was your plan to destroy Ostirith and its habitants all along… Why save me? Why take me with you?” You asked, genuinely wondering.

“We share certain… qualities,” Adar explained softly. “Loneliness, attraction to darkness. You were trying to tempt me so I would agree to your father’s offer and marry you. And you have tempted me indeed because I’ve been lonely for a few centuries too long now,” he admitted. “And it was the most endearing when I realised you were doing it all for your mother.”

You looked down, not being able to hold his gaze any longer when he mentioned your mother. Yes, it was true that you had been sacrificing yourself for her as well. But what truly had been in the back of your mind was Sauron and the fact that getting close to Adar and his army of Orcs could help your lover in his future schemes.

And perhaps Adar indeed was sick with loneliness if he couldn’t see how truly rotten you were.

“Lord Father, your tent is ready,” one of the Orcs approached you and pointed at the largest tent for Adar to rest in.

“Thank you. Prepare one for my wife, too,” Adar nodded at him.

“There is no need. That one is big enough for us two,” you pointed out and walked inside without looking back.

You looked around and sat on the wooden chair by the small table. The Orcs had no home, so they were travelling with some furniture in case they would spend their days in camps like this one. It was a very poor setting but you were not one of the Elves who had grown up in the rich and beautiful realms like Eregion or Mithlond, so you were not complaining.

Adar walked inside, carrying a heavy wooden chest with some of his belongings. You watched him place it on the ground nearby the bed.

“These are too important to lose or leave unsupervised,” he informed you and straightened his back before looking down at your face. “If you do not wish to be in my presence for now, I understand. I thought you would hate me. Perhaps you do but you do not show it as fiercely as I suspected you would.”

“I feel bad for the Elves you slaughtered inside Ostirith just because they were unfortunate enough to work under my father,” you admitted. “But watching this fortress tumbling to the ground was an oddly satisfying experience to me,” you added and Adar furrowed his brows. “It had been like a prison too many times,” you explained.

In fact, you mourned Ostirith a little but no amount of admitting it would change what had happened and you did not want him to see your weaknesses. You wanted to earn his trust as much as you could. His and his children’s.

“What do you keep there?” You changed the subject lazily and pointed at the wooden chest with your chin. You truly were curious but you wanted to ask in a careless manner, so he would not get too suspicious.

Adar hesitated for a moment before crouching down next to the chest and opening it. You had to fight every muscle in your body from trying to get a better look inside and to keep appearing unbothered.

But when he lifted up the Iron Crown, you gasped. A thrill went down your spine; a malicious shiver as your heart clenched inside your chest. You could smell Sauron’s blood on it and you immediately realised how your beloved had died. It was a twisted way to get rid of him and quite poetic, too – you had to admit it.

“You recognise the item,” Adar pointed out.

“Has my father not mentioned my education and intuition?” You cracked a nervous smile. “How did you get Morgoth’s crown?”

Adar only smiled at that and hid the item again, locking the chest with a key that he kept with himself.

“It is strong enough to kill Sauron – it has defeated him once. Not fully, so it seems. But with the help of even stronger magic, it could work again and this time it could finish the job,” he explained. “Now you know how important this chest is. I have shown it to you in case something happens to me.”

Now it was your time to smile mysteriously but you only nodded at him to show him you understood completely.

“Do you wish to rest now, my Lady?” Adar asked as he straightened his back and stood up. “I shall go to my children and answer their questions about the attack,” he said.

“I have nothing else to do, it seems, my Lord,” you sighed and leaned back on the chair as you watched him approaching the way out of the tent. “Unless…” You stopped him and he turned his head around. “Unless you would not mind my company. I am curious about the attack myself,” you added. “I am your wife,” you reminded him. “Your equal. I wish to stand by you always instead of hiding away in tents, camps and woods; left in the darkness of not knowing what is happening around me. I have never wished to be this kind of woman,” you stood up as if you were challenging him.

“You take matters into your own hands,” Adar commented. “I have seen that already back in Ostirith. You may join me, wife,” he emphasised the last word and it sounded a bit like mockery but you also spotted a hint of affection.

He extended his hand carefully towards you, still remembering how you had flinched before but this time you were in full control of your body, so you approached him, although instead of taking his hand, you put yours on his arm like a viper snake tightening its hold around the victim.

But your victim was powerful and treacherous, therefore you had to be the most cautious.

Adar deciding to attack in the evening of the next day only prolonged the anxious anticipation. You had never taken a part in any battle of this sort before.

When you had told your husband that you had never wanted to be this kind of woman – hiding away and waiting – that had been a lie. You had been like this with Sauron whenever he had been scheming and plotting somewhere. All you had been doing was warming up the bed for him. And whenever he had been back… He had been the most hungry and thirsty for you. That was all you had been caring about with Sauron. That, and to become his Queen.

But the cruel fate had taken your lover away from you and now it was time to prove your love and devotion to him. To help him – as simple as it was. You would bring the army of the Orcs to him and you would destroy your own realm for him on the way if you had to.

Sauron had always been quite… chatty. He had not only been drowning you with the countless affections and sweet words but he had also been sharing lots of his plans with you while playing with your hair or caressing the curves of your body. And perhaps he had been thinking that you had not been listening to any of it but it was not true. You had been a devoted listener.

And you knew his plan for the Southlands was to take over these lands and to make them his own terrifying realm. You knew his plans for your home were the most horrific and yet you liked the idea of ruling Middle-earth from the ruins of your homeland. It would be a symbol for you – a purge of the Southlands and Ostirith – your personal prison being turned into ashes and you becoming the Queen of them.

However horrific it would be, you knew it would not matter. You would rule alongside your lover and that was all you needed. You could be his Queen in the most precious gemstones and you could be his Queen in rags. You could rule over the beautiful Elves and you could rule over the filthy Orcs and it made no difference to you. What mattered was being by his side and getting intoxicated with his love and his worship.

Thinking of Sauron fondly, you wondered if you should try to wear your tempting nightgown again for this night as the sounds of the partying Orcs were reaching you from the outside of the tent. But then you thought that perhaps the nightgown had the opposite effect on Adar who simply did not like seeing you trying to seduce him. So, you just stripped yourself down to an underdress and rested on the bed, looking bored as you played with the necklace around your neck.

When Adar entered the tent, he tilted his head at the sight of you and then he sighed, sitting by the table and opening the notes from the scouts that had been waiting for him.

You kept observing him from the corner of your eye but he seemed to be uninterested in you, so you rolled your eyes and looked away. For a man claiming to be so lonely, he was also very cold. And you knew that in the eyes of the Valars, you were still unwed because the marriage was not consummated. However, you did not want to push him into anything because it could cause his mistrust and anger.

“I am scared of my uncertain position here,” you finally admitted and he froze before turning around to look at you, confused, still holding the piece of paper in his hand.

“What do you mean, my Lady? You are my wife,” he shook his head.

“No, I am not… yet,” you swallowed thickly and squeezed the pendant of your necklace in your hand.

You had no idea how to seduce sexually or convince him to join you in bed because Sauron had never taught you any of this – he had always been an eager lover.

Adar sighed and left the table to sit on the edge of the bed as he looked down at you. He extended his hand to brush your cheeks with his fingertips and then he allowed his hand to go lower to your chest, which was rising up and down in the pace that was going quicker now. In that moment, you could see clearly in his eyes that he desired you, so you could not understand why he was stopping himself from going further.

“Is it because of something Morgoth had done to you?” You asked, trying to sound gentle and hoping it would not anger him.

“No,” Adar shook his head with a very gentle hint of a smile. “It is because you do not want it willingly,” he admitted and retreated his hand. “When I agreed to marry you, I knew you were being forced by your father. You could have been assuring me that you wanted it but I knew you were only doing it for your mother and now, when she is safe, you are doing it to ensure your own position,” he kept explaining and you couldn’t help being surprised.

He was one of the most dangerous people you had ever met and surely one of the most brutal and yet he refused to harm his own wife in any way even if it was not love that had bonded you two but loneliness and the shared rot of the soul.

“Do you know that arranged marriage is against the Elven customs?” Adar asked with a sad smile.

“We are going against all Elven customs, haven’t you noticed, my Lord?” You swallowed thickly and lifted yourself up on your elbows.

“You are wearing my ring and I am wearing yours. We are wed for eternity no matter what,” Adar stood up to leave the edge of your bed. “And eternity is a long time for you to eventually warm yourself up to the idea of sharing your bed with me. And if not, I shall survive,” he shrugged his arms. “There is more to life than the pleasure of the flesh.”

You opened your mouth to say something – anything – and to deny his words, to keep tempting him somehow. But Adar interrupted you and saved you from any further embarrassment.

“Speaking of survival, I have something for you. Gifts,” Adar pointed at the chest that had been put inside the tent not so long ago by one of the Orcs but you had been ignoring it until now.

“I did not expect you to be a husband who would spoil his wife with gifts,” you tried to tease as you sat up fully now and watched him open the chest.

“These are not traditional gifts by any means,” Adar warned you and he approached the bed again to hand you a slim and beautifully ornamented dagger, made of black metal.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of it. In fact, it nearly made you sick and you tried very hard not to show how much this item had affected your senses.

It was Sauron’s dagger; the one he had been carrying with him most of the time. Adar had to take it away from him alongside the crown when he had murdered your beloved. You knew that dagger – you had been watching Sauron with it countless of times. And Sauron himself had been using it on you many times before to increase the pleasure of your intimate moments. That dagger meant the world to you and to hold it in your hand was like holding the hand of your lover again after all those centuries of separation and yearning.

“I-it is beautiful,” you stuttered out and took it, trying to compose yourself.

“You seem to be uneasy,” Adar furrowed his brow and you quickly came up with an excuse as you looked up at him with a trembling lower lip.

“It is of great beauty but I can sense a tremendous darkness within it,” you explained.

“It belonged to Sauron,” Adar admitted. “If it is too corrupted for you, I can take it from you and have a custom one made,” he assured you. 

“I can handle it,” you shook your head and squeezed your hand around the blade’s hilt. “It was just a slight disturbance when I first touched it,” you answered. “Thank you, that gift is very thoughtful, my husband,” you forced a smile and Adar sighed with relief. He extended his hand to gently grab your chin and caress your cheek before he walked away to the chest once again.

And when he turned around one more time, you gasped once again at the sight of a black breastplate. It was Elven – you recognised the ornaments in the shapes of leaves immediately.

“It belonged to one of the Elves we killed on the way. We collect their armour to later transform the pieces into the items we find useful but this breastplate I ordered to paint black since it might suit your size,” Adar admitted. “You march with the army and you need to be protected from the blades and arrows of our enemies,” Adar placed the breastplate on the chair next to the bed but you already stood up, all ready to wear it and see for yourself.

He assisted you in putting it on and you had no mirror to see how you looked, so you had to rely on his opinion on it.

“And?” You asked, excitedly.

“I think it fits you well, my Lady,” Adar nodded and you smiled widely at him. “And I see the gifts do please you.”

“Of course they do. So far, the books have been my weapons, but this feels quite empowering,” you admitted and tried to get a glimpse of your appearance in the reflection of your dagger’s blade.

Sauron had only been gifting you jewellery, dresses and nightgowns that later would end up torn or cut up with this very dagger. Sometimes, he had given you a book when he had wanted you to study it for him to help him expand his knowledge. And as much as you loved being spoiled and worshipped by him in this way, you also found it very dignifying to receive gifts of this sort from your husband.

“I want my wife to be respected not only because of being my spouse but because of who she is on her own. I want the whole Middle-earth to see the Dark Lady that you are,” Adar confessed in the Quenya language while he stood behind you and you felt his hands on your hips as he leaned in to whisper into your ear. You watched his distorted reflection in the blade of your dagger and in that moment, you swore, you truly wanted him and it scared you because it could mean that it was not Sauron whom you loved but the promise of power he had been presenting you with.

You felt the small amount of pain from squeezing the blade too tightly and it brought you back to reality. You shook these thoughts off and took a deep breath in. Of course you loved Sauron – you loved everything about him. Every inch of you craved and missed him to the point that you ended up caressing the hilt of the dagger for the whole night long, trying to feel the remains of his fingertips.

You have observed the fire of the burning villages from the Ostirith’s watchtower but now you were experiencing the Orcs’ havoc for the first time personally, walking into burning Tirharad alongside your husband. Dead human bodies scattered under your feet while the rooftops of the houses burnt as the Orcs kept destroying everything on their way as if they were in a frenzy, chanting the word nampat. 

You were wearing your new breastplate over your black dress and you had the dagger attached to it on your hip in case you needed it but there were no humans around anymore even though they had to fight bravely since the ground was also full of the dead bodies of the Orcs.

You were careful with your steps and it felt as if you watched the scene in slow motion – in a way, you were alone in the middle of this small hell. You let Adar walk past you as your own pace slowed down. Those were the lands your father had been the guardian of. Now they were burning and you only watched.

No, you didn’t just watch. You participated in it. You had brought death to the village of Tirharad.

“Is that what you wish to be?” You joined your husband’s side again. “The King of ashes?” You asked.

“I do not wish to be a King,” he remarked, “and my children do prefer the ashes.”

You joined the Orcs that were trying to get inside the tavern where the remaining villagers seemed to be hiding and they had barricaded themselves. However, it was only a matter of time when the Orcs would finally be able to open the wooden doors.

You felt a thrill of anticipation and excitement when they succeeded. You were not quite sure what was the item your husband was seeking – as much as he trusted you with some things and had even shown you the crown of Morgoth, he also kept some information hidden from you.

You took a step ahead but Adar’s hand stopped you from walking further by taking you by your wrist as the Orcs ran inside, attacking the villagers.

“Do not rush, my Lady,” he scolded you gently. “Let my children take them over first. You would make an easy target,” he pointed out and even though his words hurt your pride a little, you knew he was right and he had only done it to protect you.

You nodded your head at him and you waited a moment before Adar let go of your hand and walked inside the tavern. You could hear how quiet it got and you understood why since he had that effect on people. You took a deep breath in and straightened your back before following him, ready to face all those humans and make your appearance as Adar’s Dark Lady for the first time in public.

But when you walked inside, there was only one person that you could keep your eyes on as you gasped quietly at the sight of him. He was being held by two Orcs and his eyes widened at the sight of you, too.

“Arondir…” You whispered his name. “I thought you were dead,” you admitted.

He had not returned from one of his scouting missions and that had been one of many such cases lately when the Orcs had overtaken these lands. You all had mourned him already in Ostirith and you personally had been very sad about him in particular because you considered him to be one of your closest friends inside the fortress.

“My Lady…” Arondir was clearly confused to see you like this. “I thought the same of you when we watched Ostirith fall,” he admitted. “I have mourned you.”

“And I have mourned you, old friend,” you nodded at him and you stood next to Adar. You finally looked at the other faces and they kept staring at you with terror.

They knew you. You did not know them but they knew about you. Your father had been no King but he had been the protector and the guardian of these lands and you were his only daughter – a beautiful Elven maiden walking around the forests or riding her horse through this realm, sometimes talking to its habitants on the way. You were a part of their stories and myths, their songs and their legends and in their eyes you were a Princess. 

Now, they could not comprehend why you were standing next to the man who was the very reason of their doom.

However, no one dared to ask any question. Not even Arondir and you just knew he had to be dying of curiosity to know what had happened. Just like you were pretty curious to find out why he had never made it back to Ostirith, which seemed to had been his own choice.

In the meantime, after observing your interaction with Arondir, Adar approached him slowly, staring at your friend with the most intensity.

“What I seek. Give it to me,” Adar said in the Quenya language. 

“Let them go. I will consider it,” Arondir answered in the same speech and no trace of fear was spotted upon his face. You knew that your husband would not get whatever he wanted easily because you knew Arondir and you were aware of his stubborn and courageous nature. You were afraid it would lead him to his death now and that was the loss you would grieve surely, especially after witnessing it with your own eyes.

Suddenly, you started to think that, perhaps, being this kind of woman – who would stay behind and wait… Perhaps it would be better. Perhaps Sauron had been protecting your innocence and your fragility when he had not been taking you with him anywhere. Perhaps he had not wanted anything else except for him to corrupt you.

Adar nodded his head at the Orcs and the ones who had human villagers at the ends of their blades began to use their weapons and kill these poor people.You tried your best to remain unbothered by it but your heart pounded inside of your chest. You could see some of the people who were exclaiming in fear were also looking up to you to help them but you could not. You could not risk this fragile thread of trust that connected you with your husband.

And, unfortunately to them, no human life was worthy enough for you to risk ruining your plans to help Sauron in the end of all of this. They had to die, so the greater thing could emerge from it later. The Dark Lord who would heal all Middle-earth. Their sacrifice would be the most appreciated then.

“Why sacrifice their life for such a little thing?” Adar asked and in that moment once again you were confused by how cruel this man could be – the very same man who refused to touch you just to make sure everything between you two was consensual.

That made you feel special.

More people kept dying and Arondir screamed in anger into Adar’s face, then he looked at you, awaiting any reaction but there was none even though your eyes had to betray you a little bit and show some pain.

“Arondir, please,” you stepped in. “Just cooperate,” you tried to reason with him. “For the sake of our friendship.”

“I am no friend of yours!” Arondir spat out and even though his reaction was the most understandable, it stung your heart and angered you. 

You had never been able to handle rejection very well. The pain and compassion in your eyes turned into rage in a very brief moment. Sauron had always found your mood switches of this sort very endearing.

Adar turned around and spotted a wounded woman laying down with the blade pressed to her neck. She was oddly calm in the middle of this bloody chaos.

“The woman next,” Adar ordered and these three words seemed to have a very strong effect on Arondir. He screamed and grunted, trying to get out as the Orcs holding him struggled to keep him steady.

“No!” Some young boy shouted, most likely that woman’s son.

But you focused on Arondir as you smirked. So, it was love that had kept him away from Ostirith. It was love that had caused him to not come back. And it was love for a human to make it even more romantic in the cheapest way.

You had always heard stories of the Elves falling for the humans but you had never understood any of them. Why would any Elf fall for a creature so weak…? You were quite the opposite – you loved a Maia; nearly a God – and you often wondered what he had seen in you… a common Elf.

“Wait!” The young boy shouted at the Orc who raised his hand to strike the final blow upon the woman’s neck.

“No!” Arondir screamed at the boy and you raised an eyebrow.

“It’s under here,” the boy confessed, desperate to save his mother and Arondir looked at him with terror in his eyes. “It’s under here.”

“No…” Arondir whispered at this betrayal.

“Elves do love differently than humans,” you explained to the boy. “He might love your mother but he will still sacrifice her – and this whole village – for this one magic item,” you pointed out with mockery. “He does not understand why none of this matters to you. You just want to save your mother, am I right, boy?” You asked him and approached him as Arondir shot you a deadly glance.

But, in a way, you did not have to fake much of that compassion towards the boy. You knew what it was like to love your mother and to try to save her no matter the cost.

The boy nodded at you and you nodded at the Orc standing behind him to let him go. So he did and the boy grabbed the tool that would help him to get to the item.

“Theo!” Arondir called his name.

“I’m sorry,” the boy named Theo whispered and pried one of the stones that the floor of the tavern was made of.

Arondir kept grunting and trying to get out of the Orcs’ hold but they were stronger than him. Adar crouched down to get the small thing covered in dirty rags out of the hole under the stone as you stood above him and looked down with curiosity. When he opened it, a sword’s hilt was revealed and it had been forged in the same fashion as Sauron’s dagger or Morgoth’s crown. You could feel its dark magic as an ominous feeling sent a shiver down your spine.

Then, the loud rumbling reached your ears and you all furrowed your brows at the sound. You realised it was coming from the many horses going your way from afar. Someone was coming with an army to help the people of Tirharad.

You were scared at first. Scared of such a quick defeat. If it was an army of the Elves, your whole scheme would be over before it had even started. On the other hand, considering the fact you had been married to Adar for a few days, you could still save yourself by putting on a show of sobbing and explaining to the High King how much your awful father had been forcing you to become a part of this union. Perhaps he would believe you but you were scared of Gil-galad the most because he was so pure and made of such strong light that he would surely see through you immediately.

In such a case, it was very beneficial that your marriage at least had not been consummated.

Adar grabbed you by the sleeve of your dress and walked you out of the tavern. You could sense he was nervous as well and you two nearly bumped into Glûg standing in front of the building, anxiously waiting for his Lord Father to tell him the worrying news.

“The army is coming, Lord Father. We do not know yet who–” he started.

“I have a task for you,” Adar ignored him as he turned around to face you and Glûg shut his mouth as he looked down.

“What is it?” You asked, trembling slightly. The rumbling sound coming from the distance was growing louder as your anxiety was rising.

“You will go back to Ostirith and use your blood to extend the sword. There is a crevice – you know which one; Ostirith was your home. You have to insert the sword inside and twist it,” Adar handed you the hilt, still covered in the dirty rags.

You took it from him but you were out of words as you kept staring at him. He had to be desperate to give you out of all people such a task.

“That will open the dam,” you shook your head. “I do not understand.”

“Do it,” Adar insisted and clenched his jaw, staring at you intensely. “This way, you get to finish what I started and you get to be safe, away from the battlefield. You have no time to lose. Glûg will go with you,” he looked at at the Orc. “Look after my wife, Glûg.”

The Orc nodded at you, visibly proud of the job he was given.

You were still unsure of the whole thing, clenching the sword hilt covered in rags in your hands but you saw an opportunity of getting out of danger that was coming. However, when you looked at Adar, you realised it could be the last time you were seeing him alive and for some reason it made you sad a little bit. He was a mysterious man and you hoped to get to know some of his secrets before you would get back with Sauron.

“Are you sure you trust me with such a task?” You asked. He looked like it was a very important job to do and he cared deeply about it being done properly.

“I do not have many I can trust,” he only said.

“Clearly,” you answered and took a deep breath in before looking at Glûg. You nodded at him and you both ran away as fast as possible towards the woods.

MASTERLIST

[sciencewife]

Some GLaDOS Thoughts

I’m sure other people have written about this already, but I wish we got more time with GLaDOS after she’s reactivated in Portal 2, while she’s getting her bearings again and fixing up the facility as she has Chell test again. It’s majestic to see the facility slowly being repaired, the dust shaken off its many inner workings and moving parts, and just watching it become alive again, just like GLaDOS. The facility’s waking up with her because now she is the facility.

Maybe that was the case in Portal 1, too, but in a limited sense. GLaDOS was the facility (she says after Chell escapes that she can feel her there, etc), but kind of had one hand tied behind her back. She overcame the cores that the scientists attached to her to try and slow her down, but they were probably still blabbering nonsense and limiting her potential. Much of the facility, too, still appeared as if most of it was constructed by human hands. Which makes sense—Doug moved Chell up the list of test subjects so that she’d be tested and would face (and ultimately destroy) GLaDOS sooner, so even if she could, she didn’t have the time or ability to make the facility truly hers.

To me, the final battle with Chell in Portal 1 ultimately served as this big reset for GLaDOS. She was destroyed, the cores slowing her down were incinerated and the facility was left in ruins for who knows how long until she was reactivated—by the same dangerous mute lunatic who destroyed her in the first place. Naturally, GLaDOS is a little upset, at first. She had to endure a loop of getting destroyed over and over and over again for an unknown (but a VERY long) period of time. Not fun! And the first person she sees is the same woman who’s responsible for putting her through that.

And as she has Chell test while she fixes up the place, GLaDOS is sarcastic, and goes on about how you murdered her, etc, but at the same time she’s just. So happy that she can get back to what she was doing before. Setting up tests, doing science, gathering results… she gets to do what she loves again!!! Most importantly, she does it one on one with her favorite test subject forever and ever, isn’t that great? Now that she’s in charge again they have so much catching up to do <3. Whenever she’s being meanies, I see it as just her being cranky and again, what she had to go through wasn’t fun. Even with that she says she thinks that she and Chell can put their differences behind them!

And just listen to her. She’s soooooooo happy that she’s rebuilding her facility and making it her own, and Chell’s helping her test and do the science she loves. She gets to be in her element at last, no cores weighing her down, no scientists telling her what to do… she gets to be herself and make the facility in the way she sees fit. It’s perfection. It’s beautiful. It’s an extension of her and it is her, if that makes sense. Every panel, every component, its all her, all in sync… Aaaaaaaand then Wheatley shows up, and control of the place is handed over to him, and her hard work for the past couple in-game hours is undone. And towards the end she’s like “Ohhhhh no my facility 🥺 💔”. She’s so sad!! Her beautiful facility is a mess… I just wish we got to see have more time with her before all that. Doing tests and science with glabos with no orb interference, seeing her in her element building tests for the test subject she loves so much.

I do wonder how the game would’ve gone if Wheatley hadn’t interfered. An AU to consider perhaps…

Sorry if this post is kind of rambling (I was writing this at work and kept getting interrupted lol) if I need to clarify anything just send me an ask or something. I love talking about this kind of thing.

[misc-obeyme]

Hello there! Saw you were looking for one last headcanon. So I’m going to submit the following cuz the brain is rotting these days:

Mephisto, fluff and/or suggestive, first time (first time w/ MC, not necessarily first time as in being a virgin, although you’re welcome to go that route if you prefer).

Hello, hello!

All right so this is fluffy at the start and only really spicy/suggestive in the second half, but I wouldn't label it as explicit or anything. Ahh I really enjoyed writing this, though it might be a lil cheesy, that's just kinda how I roll lol. I haven't written much for Mephisto, so I'm still kinda figuring out his characterization. Hopefully it turned out okay!

Thank you for participating!

COZY COMFORTS EVENT

GN!MC x Mephistopheles

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: definitely suggestive and implied sex, but nothing described too explicitly

Mephistopheles is surprised by you. A human such as yourself shouldn't be able to make him feel much of anything aside from disdain and yet… here you are. He forces it down. He pretends that he hasn't suddenly understood what it is the others see in you. He ignores the way your smile makes his heart race. He blocks out the reality of how bright your eyes are when they meet his. He fights it with all he has.

It becomes a losing battle the moment he begins to notice your fleeting glances or how you blush whenever he says your name. He gravitates toward you even more, despite his own resistance. Even as he tries to talk himself out of feeling anything for you, he regularly seeks you out.

You say yes to him every time. Whenever he asks if you'd like to accompany him somewhere, any time he suggests you work on homework together, even just casually sitting next to each other at lunch. He acts like he's unaware of it, but you're all he pays attention to anymore. When did he start to care so much? When did he start to crave your company? When did he start thinking about having all your attention on him?

He lets time pass this way - keeping you close, but not too close. Still uncertain about it, still inextricably pulled to you. He thinks you must know. You look at him sometimes with a longing that almost hurts. Like you're just waiting for him to let you in.

He does. In the end, Mephisto can't resist you. And it happens like a tsunami, all encompassing and all at once. A confession, a first kiss, long talks, tender touches, and suddenly you're in his arms and he can't stop kissing you. He stops anyway. You're looking back at him with swollen lips and desperation on your face. But he's asking himself, is it too soon? He doesn't want to rush you.

Mephistopheles is once again surprised by you. He thinks you must simply know the inner thoughts of demons. Because you tell him that you're ready before he even has a chance to ask. Maybe you could see the question in his eyes, the hesitation in his touch. Even after your reassurance, he's careful. You're unlike anyone he's ever known and this both fascinates and terrifies him. He holds you close and kisses you gently, soft and sweet, until you take the initiative and open your mouth for him.

There is no lack of passion behind Mephisto's kisses as he slowly undresses you, carefully removing each piece of clothing and trailing his lips along your skin. You shiver beneath him, sending a thrill through his veins. He tries to stay patient as he lets you undress him, too. Until you're looking at each other in the dim light of your bedroom, taking each other in. Mephisto thinks he'll never tire of simply looking at you.

That is until he realizes he'd rather be kissing you. His mouth is hot against your skin, his hands roaming across your body, touching and feeling and holding you closer. You respond to him so easily, so readily. Like all you want is to feel him against you. You surprise him once again by pulling him to your bed, your need evident in your expression, the way you whisper his name. He nearly loses control of himself when you moan out the word please.

For a moment, Mephisto considers you. He gives himself that pause to decide if he should stop, if he should walk away from this, if he should leave you to the brothers. This is his last chance. But the thought is gone almost as soon as it arrives. Because you're beneath him, arching your back and pressing into him, your hands gripping his arms, his name still on your lips. And he knows he could never walk away. It's far too late.

You are stunning. He's never known such bliss. It isn't just the way you feel, but the way you look, crying out in ecstasy, clawing at his back, whimpering his name. And he's never felt so in tune with someone before. Later, Mephistopheles knows he will never forget the way you look when you're asleep in his arms, your head on his chest, your body rising and falling softly with your breathing. Your fingers still curled around his arm like you're worried he might leave. He's surprised to realize that all he wants is to stay by your side.

cozy comforts | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[thelunarsystemwrites]

🕸!MuffeteerTale Masterpost!🕸

Where all your MuffeteerTale content can be found in one place! TL:DR of the AU—Muffet takes control of Sans's soul, and essentially makes him a puppet during a no mercy route.

COMICS:

(These are organized based off release date, not chronological order!)

Muffteertale. (First comic made.)

Prequel comic. (Needs to be redrawn lol)

Battles.

What's mine is mine.

Left in the dust.

A fight. (Flashbacks!)

ASKS: (note—only asks with art/are important are here!)

Why did Muffet take Sans's soul?

Rules of the fighting rings?

GKSZGIXGCK COMPLIMENT ANON!!

Happy Sans 👍

Can we ask muffet and Sans questions? (Yup!)

Sans's opinion on muffet?

Has muffet tried taking a human soul?

puppeted.

Muffet's services!

Sans VS other... Sans?

Any benefits to working for Muffet?

Sans's spider outfit.

(Tw: slavery/shaming) Do you know how lucky you are?

Does muffet allow Sans to keep any friends?

Sighhhh muffeteer sans is so cool (thanks moot!)

What's his opinion on the human, and, hobbies?

Always alone?

Can I draw Muffeteer sans? (Yup!)

Marshmallows?

ART:

Muffeteer! (Muffet!)

Doodle!

Control. (Lore important!)

Deals a deal. (Lore important!)

Art practice/Teaser.

Muffintin!

Breaks over lol (doodle)

The Card.

Spider Dance.

Happy muffeteer Sans! :3

Picture this...

NOTE: Asks keep AUs alive! Reblogs keep AUs alive! Likes help, but PLEASE consider reblogging my posts, or sending an ask!

Fantastic artists who drew Muffeteer Sans!

"FREEE MY MANN." Featuring Witch Lust, owned by ant1quarian! and Muffeeteertale Sans! (Art by @ant1quarian!)

"Fanart!" (Art by @skullbonezz!)

An art request @maxxmakes did for me, thank you!

Rules below!

When sending an ask, you may ask Muffet, Sans, or me a question directly!

You may ask questions about other characters, story, generally anything!

This AU will cover mature topics. Such as toxic relationships, drug abuse, abuse, mental illness, etc. I highly recommend you be aware of that! (Trigger tags will be added!)

PLEASE do not long-term RP with these characters! You may give them things to a extent, but don't try to add your OC into the story please! (Sidenote: you can send asks AS your OC, but no guarantee it'll be addressed in story)

FANART IS ABSOLUTELY WELCOME!! Do tag me if you make art of them!! ^^ (however, no NSFW... hopefully that was obviously lol.)

[tizeline]

Hi! So. I’ve been reading your Sep Au, (IVE BEEN FANNING OVER IT LIKE CRAZY YOU HAVE NO IDEA, ahem) and have a bit of a small question. (Side note, this is sort of a ramble of possibilities and questions so bare with me 😅)

Big Mama. Does she ever interact with Draxum or the turtles? (Not including Donnie yet haha) Knowing her and Draxum, they don’t really get along, BUT she might have made a deal at some point with Draxum and let’s say he might’ve sent the boys to collect it at some point or just overall do her a favor or something like that, what do they think of her?

Do they hate her or have mutual respect for what she does? I mean it is said that she doesn’t really like humans as much and she does run a pretty successful business with her Battle Nexus.

Speaking of Big Mama too, Venus.

Do the boys ever end up meeting her early on with Draxum? Or is it similar to the canon version of how they met. (The recent comic)

Anyways, feel free to answer but if you already have feel free to ignore this ask. Have a nice day (or night) and remember to drink water and get some sleep! 👍🏼

I'm so glad you like the AU! :D

So Draxum is very aware that Big Mama can and will kidnap his sons and put them in the Battle Nexus if she gets the chance considering how capable fighters they are. And GOD FORBID she finds out that they're related to LOU JITSU, that's just asking for trouble! Point is, Draxum makes sure to keep the turtles far away from her because he knows how dangerous she can be. They do, on occasion, conduct some business (like with that mystic train in the season 1 finale) so it's possible the turtles have met Big Mama on those occasions. But Draxum never sends them to do any business with her on their own, he's always the one doing the negotiating and the turtles will at most only accompany him.

Big Mama is essentially a mafia boss, and she's well known to be manipulative and shady, so the turtles don't exactly have the highest opinion of her. They don't hate her really, but they also don't like her. They definitely don't trust her.

But when it comes to the secret siblings, I was never planning on including them in the AU, and as excited as the Big Mama's Assistant face-reveal made me, I'm not planning on changing my mind on that. So uh. Venus or Frida or Jennika or whoever don't exist in this particular AU lol. I feel a bit bad about it because, again, I relaly like Mystery Sister even if we barely know anything about her. But I've been constructing this story around her or any other secret siblings not existing, so I'd have to change too much of the current story to make them fit into the narrative and like ughhhh. So sorry, no Mystery Sister :/