#anyone else need a good guttural scream?

[drugsforaddicts]

Sorry for barging in like this but I feel like shit and I just want to scream

AAAAAAAAAAAA

You barged in the right place tho! And I'll just join you

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[tojisun]

THAT BLOOD AS LUBE THING!!!! HERES MY TAKE!!!!!!

Logan having been punched in the mouth so many times that when he has you finally bent over, your both panting and full of aggressive adrenaline with your knees pushed up to your chest, his giant hands splayed over the backs of your thighs, he lets a bloody string of spit fall from his mouth and onto your exposed cunt from where he’s absolutely shredded the crotch of your costume.

THIS SEXY THING IN REFERENCE TO THAT? GODDAMN YEA cw: smut; f!reader; blood as lube; fucking in public; thrashing bcuz of oversensitivity - all consensual; a touch of poolverine/reader poly :3 this is v short im sorry! // divider by @/plutism!

the guttural hunger ripples in waves as logan tears through your pants, each rip sending his hackles rising, the tension between the two of you brewing, until he’s got you fully bare and ready for him. your scent hits him hard, and he almost buckles down, his cock jumping underneath his suit, before he’s got your thighs cushioning either side of his head.

he takes in a greedy drag, nose flaring at the waft of your aroma—so wet and messy and all his.

logan’s eyes flick up to you for a moment—a question—and you give him the subtlest of nods, and it’s all he needs to pry his maw open. the thick string of blood and spit mixed together falls like a diabolical glob on your cunt, and watching him do this makes your breath hitch.

everything about this is rugged, animalistic, but it is also so, so hot. you try to rationalize past your need, telling yourself that this isn’t the right time to be fucked, not when logan’s bleeding all over your cunt, but a rough tongue presses flat on your slit and your thoughts are razed into fractures.

you keen, bucking in his hold, as your hands fly to grip anything you can, trying so desperately to ground yourself. logan doesn't let you, digging in like a man starved and aching; he ruts his bloodied mouth all over your pussy, hot tongue fucking past your folds and into the tight ring of your cunt, and slurps.

“fuck!” you cry out, fists tightening around whatever remains of your pants. your head falls backwards, exposing your throat as you scream.

logan can eat pussy, you’ve known that for years, but there is a curl of something primal in the way he eats you out tonight—all filthy and overwhelming, his silence making you feel ever more so like a prey being devoured. tears are already springing up from your eyes, beading, until a sob wretches itself from your throat because it’s—

it’s too good!

you’re babbling nonsense, you realize later, your words slurring when you beg and moan, telling him how it’s too much and how he needs to stop—“please ‘gan!”—as you feel your mind getting scrambled with the intensity of this all. you try to dislodge yourself from his hold, thrashing, but logan pushes you down with a firm hand on your belly, subduing every effort to rip his mouth off from your cunt.

you’re fully crying now, shaking, and you try warning him that you’re about to cum—the dregs of your ecstasy peaking with every lick and sharp teeth dragging to nip at your folds and at your clit—but you can’t. you’re too drunk off of the pleasure, and your body feels like a rubber pulled taut, ready to snap as your climax builds—

tipping—

then logan’s pulling away with a snarl.

“no!” you keen, sobbing, trembling hands reaching to pull him back before your euphoria dies down, but logan’s already straightening up and folding himself over you, his bulk easily covering you. “i wan’ cum! logan, please—”

“shh,” he coos, like he isn’t wet with your slick and his tan skin tinged with the slightest of red. you see yourself on his beard, droplets of your slick glinting like little diamonds as he leans in.

he pushes your hair away from your face with a grin, and it looks mean but not unkind; just teasing because he knows how much your need has grown. he must have. no one knows your body more than anyone else, after all, and you are sure that he knew that you were there, on the throes of your orgasm, waiting for it to spill into a stuttering blanket of white.

“i’ve got you, darl,” he continues, like he didn’t just edge you off. “gon’ fuck you good now—prepared you nice f’me, after all.”

oh.

you hiccup, still glaring up at him with vitriol despite the promise, but you feel yourself loosening up as the tension leaves your body. he hums, still petting your cheek, and you grumble, looking away because you can’t stand the force of his attention—all that crinkled-eye smile and raggedly endearing taunts he chirps at you.

logan hums, satisfied at seeing you placated, then he’s moving back up again. the action draws air into your exposed cunt and you move to shut your legs close, at least even for a bit, but he wrenches them apart with a heavy hand pressing down on your inner thigh, and slots himself properly between your legs. you roll your eyes at him, dutifully ignoring the way your cheeks are warming up at being so exposed before logan while he’s still all clothed with his suit.

he chuckles with a fond shake of his head, and paws for the zipper on his suit. the sound of it dragging makes you twitch, feeling hypersensitive again. you feel him getting excited too, his chest heaving when he finally pulls his cock out from his pants. you stare at it, still so unused to the size because logan’s big, yes, and he’s big everywhere—from his thighs to his delts, and now his cock.

it’s girthy, webbed with thick veins, and leaking; pearly pre- beading on the head, and nothing has ever made your mouth water more than seeing it.

you want it in you, yes, but fuck, you want your throat stuffed too. want it fucked raw and ruined; want to be used by logan—

but your cunt is wet and itching, and you want to cum so, so bad.

you wonder what you must have looked because logan’s stuffing his fingers in your mouth, as though in placation, and you suck on them, greedy, not minding the faint taste of earth and salty sweat. it makes you even headier, filling you up with the reminder of where you two are, and you whimper, need bloating, because fuck, you need him now.

logan is still quiet even when he taps his cock over your clit, sending goosebumps to rise all over your skin.

“ready, pretty bird?” he asks like he can’t smell the desperation rolling off of you.

still, you nod, and you try your best to relax because you feel so worked up already with all the dragging—

then, logan’s pushing in, in, in, and you are gone.

.

you don’t even know how many time’s you’ve cum now, only that your cunt is oversensitive and your thighs are a sticky mess and your throat is hoarse, but it must have been hours because the sky has turned dark, almost pitch black, and there’s nothing else but you and logan—

the sound of boots crinkling against rocks makes you freeze, your sharp senses breezing past the euphoric pressure being pounded into your cunt, before you put a hand over logan’s chest, making him stop.

with only the sounds of ragged breathing, the two of you hear where the echoing footsteps are coming from. still perched on your back—and speared by logan’s cock—you tip your head up, not minding the upside-down perspective of your surroundings.

logan groans the moment a familiar red suit walks into view. wade’s got his mask pulled up just enough that you two see his grin, then—

“and where’s my invitation?”

logan groans again, while you give out a breathy chuckle, pussy clenching around logan’s cock. he bucks in with a confused grumble.

what? your throat is still pretty lonely, after all.

wade was lounging atop a building when he sees his two favourite people fight— wait they’re— oh? oh.

[woozinhos]

A Beautiful Messy, Mess

Pairings- Dokyeom x female reader

Summary: You’re in an arranged marriage with Dokyeom and you’ve finally decided it time for him to take your virginity

Word counts- 733 words

Warning minors do not interact

Dokyeom positions himself at your entrance, looking down at you with a mixture of love and desire in his eyes. "I'll go slow, I promise. I don't want to hurt you."He pushes into you slowly, groaning at the tight heat that surrounds him. He takes his time, allowing you to adjust to his size and savoring the feeling of being inside you. You bite your lip adjusting to the size of him for the first time. He watches you closely, noticing the way your lips are bitten in pleasure. He can't help but lean down and capture them in a searing kiss, his tongue darting out to soothe the tender flesh. "You're so tight, darling. You feel so good around me..." You look up at him “Just so big,” He lets out a sigh of relief, realizing it was just a little discomfort. "Sorry, darling. I'll go slow, just a bit more. You're doing so well, you're taking me so good." He continues to push into you slowly, his hands gripping your hips tightly to steady himself. He groans as he finally bottoms out, feeling completely surrounded by your warmth and tightness. "God, you feel so good. So perfect for me." He holds still for a moment, giving you time to adjust to his size. He peppers kisses all over your face, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. "You're so beautiful, darling. So beautiful and all mine."

After a few moments, he starts to move slowly, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back in. He sets a slow, steady pace, savoring the feeling of being inside you and watching the pleasure on your face. You gasp reaching out grabbing onto his arm. He notices your hands gripping his arm tightly, and he takes one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers together. "It's okay, darling. I've got you. Just relax and let me take care of you." He continues to thrust into you at a steady pace, his hips moving with a practiced rhythm. He leans down to capture your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, swallowing your moans and whimpers. He picks up the pace slightly, his thrusts becoming more forceful and deeper. He can feel his own release building, but he's determined to bring you to another orgasm first. “Fuck seokmin,” You moan.

He groans at the sound of his name on your lips, his hips snapping forward harder and faster. "Say my name again, darling. Let everyone know who's making you feel this good." You smile up at him knowing the effect you have on him “Seokmin mmmm”. He lets out a guttural moan, his eyes darkening with desire. “That's it, just like that. Keep saying my name, darling. Let me hear how good I'm making you feel." “Fuck seokmin,” You look him in his eyes. He growls low in his throat, his control snapping at your words. He starts to pound into you relentlessly, chasing both of your releases with an almost primal need. He leans down to suck and bite at your neck, marking you as his own. His hand moves down to your clit, rubbing it in tight circles as he continues to thrust into you. "You're mine, darling. Mine to love, mine to pleasure, mine to mark. No one else can make you feel this good, only me." You smile looking up at him. “No one Seokmin,” He lets out a possessive growl, his thrusts becoming even more powerful as he claims you completely. "Damn right. You're mine, and I'll make sure you never forget it. I'll make you feel so good, make you scream my name every night. You'll never want anyone else, darling. Only me."

“Fuck!” He can feel you clenching around him, signaling your approaching release. He redoubles his efforts, his fingers working faster on your clit and his thrusts becoming more erratic. "That's it, darling. Come for me. Let go and fall apart for me." You feel your release approaching. “Fuck I’m cumming dokyeom!” He groans as he feels you clench around him, his own release following shortly after. He buries his face in your neck, biting down on your shoulder as he comes inside you, his hips stuttering against yours. He slowly pulls out of you, panting heavily. He looks down at you, his eyes filled with satisfaction and possessiveness.*

"You're a mess, darling. A beautiful, messy mess."

[peanutbubba]

Surrender to Me (gn!reader x Doflamingo)

Doflamingo x Shirtless reader, gn!reader, it’s assumed reader is amab, Doffy wants reader bad, very suggestive, I mean it is Doffy, sadistic Doffy, Doffy and reader aren’t in a relationship, scratching and blood, drabble, 690 words

Regularly you wear shirts, all the time, much to Doflamingo’s dismay considering he wants to see your unclothed body all the time, but also very much to his pleasure because he doesn’t want anyone else to see you like that. The one time you didn’t wear a shirt however quite literally made Doflamingo absolutely feral, not that he wasn’t already, it just increased significantly.

You came back from a long and stressful mission, fatigue written all over your body. Your shirt noticeably missing, having gotten too torn during your mission so you just decided to discard it.

When Doflamingo had realized the fact that you were shirtless he couldn’t help the massive grin that spread on his face, licking his lips like the best meal ever had just been presented to him. Your supple looking skin shown off to the world, any tattoos or scars usually hidden by your shirt finally seeing the light of day.

Oh, how Doflamingo craved you. He needed and wanted to completely mark up your bare chest, he wanted to see his influence against your skin, so very badly. And he wasn’t afraid to voice it, not one to shy away from these types of things. The groan that leaves his lips guttural as he beckons, or more like demands you come over to him. A command so frightening and yet seducing coming from Doflamingo’s lips. Yet, you can’t help but listen, against all better judgment he still had control over you, he was your superior, as such you’d be willing to surrender every part of yourself to see him rise to the very top. Even if that meant giving your warm body to him instead of your pale corpse.

The looks that he gives you once you’re in front of him, his eyes usually hidden behind his glasses just being ever so slightly visible this time. His depraved and lustful look, eyes half lidded as he stares down at you, his hulking body both terrifying and gorgeous. Then without a second to waste he has his large hands on you, covering portion after portion of your naked chest, rubbing and scratching his blunt nails against your muscles. His eyes have half the mind to watch your face contort and shift, while the other half to watch his hands slowly mark every inch of what is rightfully his.

Perhaps you try to stifle a laugh, getting gently tickled by the pink feathers on Doflamingo’s coat, biting your lip into a cherry red. However it’s a harsh contrast to Doflamingo’s rough hands, another scratch right on your back making you open your mouth in a silent scream, or even making you bite your lip harder, blood dripping down your chin. Arching your back trying to get away from his hands, from him, and yet it only brings you closer, your bare chest rubbing his clothed one. His other arm encircling your waist as he traps you against him, a sick cackle coming from him because both of you know that he’s right where he wants you, both of you know you’re trapped between his fingers like a pretty bird held captive in a cage.

And once Doflamingo has you don’t think he’s ever letting go, you’re too good, too precious. Too much of everything, he’d be a fool to ever let you go. So he doubles down on his efforts, does everything to get your attention, to make you want to be with him as much as he wants to be with you. But don’t dare assume that hasn’t already claimed you, because with the way whenever you pass and people quickly avoid your gaze, or the tremble when they talk to you. You know, you know that Doflamingo has done something, he has made you his alone. It’s just a matter of time as when you accept that fact, and finally come crawling to him, sitting on his lap as if it was your throne.

Doflamingo has already been crazy over you for awhile, but finally when he sees something that he’s only seen in his dreams for so long, it’s what makes him crack.

—

I was laughing so hard making this, I don’t know what it is but I couldn’t take this seriously. Anyways, hope you enjoyed

Pea’s out!

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

F!reader and Chad ignores Mindy’s no-sex rule and curse everyone (ghostface shows up)

Warnings: smut, oral (m receiving)

my taglists are here (I added one for SCREAM) + you can requests here at any time

—

It seemed like a good idea at first, sneaking in Sam's bedroom. But then all of Mindy's 'how to survive in a horror movie' rules started echoing in Chad's head — playing with his head.

We have to stay together. Safety is in numbers.

Everyone is a suspect…especially the new additions to the friend group.

And most importantly: no sex.

While some of them were relevant and turned out to be accurate, some were not. He didn’t have sex with Liv and she still got killed.

You wrapped your arms around Chad's neck as he kissed you passionately, letting your desires and boredom fill the evening. His hands slipped under your shirt and felt your breasts over your thin bra, very pleased with your choice of undergarment for today. Your nipples peaked beneath his contact, begging to be taken care of and played with.

Breaking the kiss and pushing away his hands, you reached for the bottom of your shirt and pulled it off, revealing the sheer fabric of your bra. A low groan left Chad’s lips. Everything was visible through it.

He went to grab your breasts again, but you didn’t let him. Chad knitted his eyebrows, about to ask why you were pushing him away, but you reached for his belt and he shut himself up. ‘’Wha— Oh!’’

With a mischievous smile on your lips, you worked your fingers and undid his belt and jeans. His hoodie joined your shirt, flashing his firm and smooth skin. The faintest scent of his woody cologne reached your nose as you kissed down his chest, your hands sweeping past his abs towards the hem of his boxer-briefs.

You should feel bad for doing this in Sam’s bedroom, but she was in the kitchen with Tara and you felt less guilty for using hers than Tara’s.

Chad hissed as you pulled the hem of his boxer-briefs down, already half-hard. You wrapped your hand around his girth, feeling him twitching slightly, and grave it a few strokes, watching as it began leaking pre-cum.

‘’Fuck.’’ His head rolled back on his neck, his eyes fluttering shut.

Then, you sank to your knees and relaxed your jaw, preparing yourself. ‘’Ready?’’ you asked the boy above you, gazing up at him through your lashes.

It was a stupid question, but you loved to play with his patience. You ran your hands over Chad’s bare thighs, feeling the hairs and muscles underneath your touch. He stared back at you, wishing you’d stop talking and teasing and fucking get to it.

With one last look at him, you swirled your tongue around the head of his cock — finally. Your action elicited a lewd moan, but Chad was quick to muffle it. If anyone knew what you were up to, they would come banging on the door.

You didn’t rush it, engulfing a few inches and savoring the soft, guttural sounds from him as you sucked his cock leisurely. It’s not like you had anywhere else to be. You let your fingers stroke what you couldn’t take, the taste of his pre-cum spreading around in your mouth.

Above you, Chad was muttering another curse, his breathing rapid. ‘’Mmh, your mouth feels so good, babe,’’ he rasped, lowering one hand to your hair without using it to push you forward. He wasn’t that type of guy — unless you asked.

For a moment, Chad was able to forget about all the ghostface craziness happening. You both knew it wouldn’t last long, but a short break was nice — especially when it involved getting your cock sucked.

‘’You look so fucking good, too— ah.’’ He casted his eyes down and you began deep-throating his cock, sucking hard enough to hollow out your cheeks. ‘’Fuck, don’t stop.’’

As most guys, Chad adored watching you suck him off. He loved the way your mouth worked against him, how you knew exactly what he needed, and how your cherry flavored lip gloss coated lips wrapped around his girth. So fucking beautiful.

It didn’t take long before getting a warning that he was close, spilling his warm seed seconds later into your throat, jerking his hips up until he had spent himself.

‘’Hey! You two better not be doing what I think you're doing,’’ came Mindy’s voice from the other side of the door, accompanied by loud knocks. ''I get that you're horny rabbits, but you two are looking for your death!''

You and Chad broke out of your bubble and looked at each other like deers caught in headlights.

‘’What? My room?’’ Sam echoed in irk and disgust.

You heard the scrape of a chair across the floorboards, followed by heavy footsteps coming down the hallway.

Shit.

He scrambled for his boxers and you wiped his cum at the corner of your mouth, trying to get the most decent possible before an angry Sam barged in. 

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade

[ddejavvu]

Eddie and Steve going to see their idol, rockstar!reader, in concert. Except you think they’re both cute when you see them screaming in your front row. After a water break backstage, you reach for their hands midsong, giving one of them a note saying to meet you afterwards.

Eddie and Steve being in your green room, and when I say literally, I mean literally drooling over you. You have Eddie making out with your neck with egregious moans, Steve slobbering all over your tits, as he pants at your scratches to his head. They’re both thanking you over and over, and when you name them ‘my good boys’ they actually become fully yours, there and then. When you pull Eddie to make out with you, his spit is literally gleaming down your chin, as he sloppily tries to press his tongue all over your mouth, as much as he can get. They both need to taste you, you’re so amazing. And when Steve decides he can’t wait long enough for his first kiss too, you have both of them whining as loud as they can (maybe they’re slightly deaf from the concert) as they’re both trying to basically swap tongues with you, at the same time. Not even mentioning the drool that piles up at the corner of their lips, once they’re actually bouncing with every thrust while you three fuck. You give them bottles of that really posh water, the refreshing shit, while you three all cuddle under stage outfits, on the floor of your dressing room

today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :)

this post is 18+, minors dni.

this ask punched me in the fucking clit i swear to GOD this shit is good...

After a water break backstage, you reach for their hands midsong, giving one of them a note saying to meet you afterwards.

they'd quake. maybe you slip it to steve 'cause eddie's holding his phone's camera out already, but you wink at him, too, so he knows he's included. it literally makes him lose his mind, he screams so loud that he blows out the mic on his phone and steve's got this adorable pinky blush on his face aksngjdnfsd

You have Eddie making out with your neck with egregious moans, Steve slobbering all over your tits, as he pants at your scratches to his head.

no bc...... bc even if they're not touch starved, (but they probably are) it's you that's touching them!!!!!! it's you!!!!!! so they're completely shellshocked, just moving and touching and biting and licking and kissing because it's all their fried brains can do - eddie swears you're intoxicating, he can't stop mouthing at your neck no matter how much he wants to move other places. it's just addictive, why would he stop when it's so good?? and steve... ohhh steve's frantically ping-ponging between your tits, tongue leaving trails of spit each time he switches which boob is in his mouth. he suckles against your nipple but catches sight of your other tit, so lonely :( so he has to switch over to that one, and his saliva cools on your nipple while he makes out with that one. it's a neverending cycle, he's so desperate to love all of you that he can't stay focused mmmm - and your fingers raking through his hair?? he's drooling, literally drooling down the underside of your tits and down your stomach, his spit is shining on your skin every time it pours from his mouth when you rake your nails against his scalp and make him groan... it's such a guttural noise and he just presses his open mouth to your tit so that it hums through you and his eyes scrunch shut with those pretty lashes of his resting on the apples of his cheeks

They’re both thanking you over and over, and when you name them ‘my good boys’ they actually become fully yours, there and then.

THANKING YOU THANKING YOU THANKING YOU UGH yes they're so stunned and starstruck that you picked them, you could have picked anyone else but you picked them!!!!

When you pull Eddie to make out with you, his spit is literally gleaming down your chin, as he sloppily tries to press his tongue all over your mouth, as much as he can get.

press his tongue all over your- *clenches thighs* MOUTH.... i'm actually depraved. he is not concerned at all with proper kissing etiquette, all he knows is that you're there and you want him and he wants you so bad that he just can't control it, he's sloppy and messy and drooly and he covers your lips and chin in so much spit just trying to make out with you, desperately trying to press his tongue anywhere he can taste you 😵

you have both of them whining as loud as they can (maybe they’re slightly deaf from the concert) as they’re both trying to basically swap tongues with you, at the same time. Not even mentioning the drool that piles up at the corner of their lips, once they’re actually bouncing with every thrust while you three fuck.

the thought... of them... practically crying from how fucked-out they already are from just a kiss, eyes scrunched and hands desperate and grabby, tongues all over you and your mouth and your chin and your lips and your own tongue and- KNFSNDFNSD. there's so much drool and the sound is obscene, squelching and stickiness as their drool starts to dry on your chin and down your chest but more just slops over it, you're literally dripping with their spit i'm CUMMING.

You give them bottles of that really posh water, the refreshing shit, while you three all cuddle under stage outfits, on the floor of your dressing room

no bc. bc they finish (they probably cum like six times to your one kSKJGNSDF) they automatically assume you'll just send them on their way again. bc like? you just wanted a quick fuck, right? noooo but when you drag them over to your couch or flop right down onto the floor and snuggle yourself up between them??????? oh my god brains short-circuiting!!! they're so fucked-out and clingy that they're just all over you, you're suffocating under their touch but you wouldn't have it any other way :')) a real, sweet kiss with much less tongue this time would absolutely kill them, it's so sweet and lovingly intimate and they'll take turns just smooshing their lips to yours turning your head back and forth :'))

[mossyficnerd]

His Prey His Love | Vampire!Alex

Jaylex | tw blood + gøre + violence| 17+ | 2k+

This is based off something my friend @entry-85 wrote, thank you for the inspo !

Ø

The blood in every person was different, Alex hadn't seemed to care when he'd first been. . . Changed. It was just what he needed, sustenance to tie him over till his next fix.

Every feed was agonizing, sudden, unplanned. When the hunger that thing put in him took over, he couldn't control it, when he felt it coming it was already too late. The first time, it was a girl he'd been studying with in his apartment.

All the noises had been too much. He didn't know what was wrong as his breathing shallowed. He could hear her blood coursing through her body, taste her perfume on the air like salt, and see every dilation of her eyes even while trying to look at his paper. When the woman had leaned closer, pushing her body into his and leaning her head back to show her chest more, he snapped. One misunderstanding about Alex's intentions from that woman had revealed what that thing had put inside him.

He remembers the terrible cracking sound her thin neck had made, the guttural sound of ripping her throat and the thick sweet taste of her blood on his cat-like tongue. He remembers the rush of feeling, the release of all the building anxiety and anger, the perfect feeling of being full.

He also remembers waking up to her head sitting on his dining room table, and her body precariously set back on its chair. Alex didn't remember setting her up like that, he doesn't even remember going to bed. He let the panic set in then, the crying and the screaming fell from him like a waterfall. He didn't know why he'd done it at the time. He didn't know the thing had infected him.

Alex spent all day cleaning it up, blending the body in a fucking food processor because he didn't know what else to do. Crying over the stain on his dining room table and hitting his head against the shower wall when he finally got to cleaning himself.

The next time, it was something of the same. Someone got too close, and the thing took over. And the next morning there was a body. He learned that they all tasted different, though, and they all smelt like they tasted. Some sweet, and some bitter. The taste was the only good part usually.

Alex grew numb to it. He slowly learned he could control it, though. Instead of it happening suddenly and ruining his furniture, he'd lure an unsuspecting person, a classmate, a random person at a bar, grindr date, out to the woods. Once he got them there, it was easy, whether he got them there through making out or well placed threats they normally caved, and he got a hot meal. 

This went on for months, months of burning clothes and burying bodies before anything happened. Before anyone close to him got… too close.

When his hunger got too much around those close people he started leaving, claiming he felt sick. He'd run out during filming with Tim and Brian, yell at Jay to fuck off and slam the door before scrolling grindr for his next meal. Everytime he felt awful for Jay, he didn't really care about upsetting Brian, and he didn't give two fucks about Tim. But fucking Jay, he hated doing that to Jay.

Jay had been his friend since high school, and keeping Jay out of his life wasn't going to work. He relearns this now, hearing Jay pound on his door.

“Open up Alex!” The pounding rang through the man's skull and he couldn’t block out the noise. His reddened eyes closed tight as the banging continued. Alex knew Jay, knew that this had been his breaking point. The fifth time Alex had canceled plans ten minutes before Jay was supposed to get there. He hadn't seen Jay face to face in two weeks.

“Alex! I'm serious.” His voice got quieter, and had Alex's hearing been normal he wouldn't have heard the whisper. “Please, I'm so worried.” He wanted to cry, he knew why Jay was so worried. He knew all of his bad habits from high school and probably thought he was on something or hurting himself or something- god he didn't want Jay hurt again. 

Reluctantly, Alex crawled out of bed, down his loft, and slowly pulled his door open. Jay didn't wait, pushing it open and slamming it shut behind him. His usually soft eyes were alight with worry, and Alex was hit with his smell first. He smelt divine, and Alex felt disgusting just thinking that. He heard the blood pumping through his body next, thrumming along his veins and the oxygen moving in it. He could hear Jay blinking, see the sweat pushing out of his pores, and the way his eyes weren't all green, the specks of different brown hues.

Jay was talking, but it was drowned out by the sound of his blood, Alex could basically see it moving through Jay's body. He could see the biggest supply areas and the thinnest skin. Alex didn't realize when he'd pinned Jay to the wall, his wrists so weak in Alex's grip he couldn’t even tell that Jay was struggling.

Jay's legs were kicking out against him, cries falling on deaf ears as Alex watched him for a second. Jay's body twisted violently in Alex's grip, his Eyes brimming with tears before Alex loosened on his wrists. The man looked up at Alex with hope, and he forced himself to listen to Jay. “What are you on, Alex? I can help you, what's going on?”

His words faded away again and his blood resounded in Alex's ears. Leaning forward slowly, his scratchy cat tongue licked over the soft thin skin of Jay's neck. The thing in Alex loved how his prey froze up, his sharp fangs pushing through his gums as he hovered over Jay's neck. Each labored breath Jay made had Alex more excited, teeth digging into the first layer of his skin.

Before he could pierce Jay's flesh, before blood could hit his tongue, he snapped out of it. He let go of Jay and scrambled back, falling over himself onto the floor and watching as Jay stood at the wall. Jay seemed frozen in place, his arms the only thing that moved as they fell limply at his sides. His thin wrists were blooming bruises, eyes wide with confusion and fear, his heart pumping fast. Alex covered his ears, feeling his sharp nails dig into his scalp to keep him centered. 

Maybe he was talking, maybe the no no and run! Jay run! Were not just in his head because Jay's face changed, the fear morphing into concern, his heart pumping slower slower. Alex felt his teeth aching, never before had he denied himself when so close. Never had he pulled himself away when the most perfect food was right in front of him. Somehow, he knew Jay would be delicious, and it sickened him to think that.

“Alex?” Jay slowly dropped to his knees to be level with Alex . He reeled back, trying not to smell Jay as he pushed forward. His hands found Alex's knees and used them to push himself forward, his hand moving to touch Alex's face, showing his bruised wrist, broken blood vessels wafting themselves into Alex's nose. His eyes shifted, maybe to pinpricks, and he's sure Jay could see the thing in him now. Even so, he pushed closer, pushing Alex's knees apart and putting the man's head in his neck again.

“Is this what you need? Do- do you need to bite me?” His voice wavered, and his throat got tight. Alex could taste the anxiety in the man's scent, it was weirdly intoxicating. When Alex's hand was in Jay's hair, the thing wasn't taking over. It was Alex, understanding he had to be careful if he did this.

Jay shouldn't be doing this. He shouldn't be ready to offer his body so readily to Alex, but there he was. Alex couldn't hold back anymore, tilting Jay's head back and letting himself lick over his neck to taste it. His teeth ached in his mouth worse than they ever had, like breaking through Jay's flesh was the only thing that could save him from the pain. 

As his teeth broke the thin skin of the other's neck, Jay's body went limp against him. The blood coated Alex's tongue, weirdly sweet, and he barely kept himself from ripping into him. He wanted Jay to keep his head. He wanted Jay to survive this. Alex latched his lips over the bite and sucked, letting the blood work itself out of Jay's body. Whatever he had done had the blood flowing easily, though, spilling into his mouth and down his throat. It cooled the burn and made all the painful noises disappear. Just him and Jay existed now as he drank the others' hot blood.

When he detached from Jay, when he looked down in fear, fear he'd killed the man, he saw his eyes first. Lidded eyes, mouth hung open softly and his form unmoving. He was breathing softly, the only indication he'd survived the ordeal, and Alex pulled him close, holding back the scream he felt gurgling up in his throat.

What did he do? He'd never kept someone alive while feeding, why wasn't Jay moving, why did he look so gone? Alex pushed his hands through Jay's hair and started rocking with him, all the desperate hunger gone, leaving a gaping wound in Alex's heart. He almost killed Jay. Hell if Jay doesn't come out of this, he did kill jay.

“Jay? I'm sorry, I'm so sorry please come back, I don't want you to die.” His tears broke the dam and fell, cascading down his cheeks as he cradled Jay. For near an hour they laid like that and Alex mourned his friend, knowing he'd be the one to bury him, and knowing his other friends would search. He grieved the loss of the only person that had ever understood him. Then, somewhere past the hour mark, Jay's breathing got deeper, and he began to shift in Alex's grip. 

The first noise he made was a quiet groan, his eyes lidding heavier but he grabbed onto Alex. He seemed weak and tired but he was alive. Alex held him close and cried harder, air he didn't really need choking in his lungs. Jay clung close to Alex, slowly beginning to shake as his body became his again. Alex could smell it, feel it, fear and adrenaline running through Jay, some strange sense of euphoria accompanied it as Jay's breathing became labored. 

He tucked himself into Alex's neck and tugged on the man's hoodie, shivering now. “Ss cold…” Alex didn't hesitate to pull off the thick hoodie and wrap it around Jay, holding the pale man close. 

“Fuck I'm sorry, are you okay?” His hands cradled Jay's neck, seeing the mark had quickly scarred over. Alex didn't know why, but given he'd killed every other person unlucky enough to be a meal, he wouldn't have noticed it either way. Jay weakly nodded his head, clinging closer to Alex. 

“It's so cold…” His skin was pale and he looked ready to faint, all of the post bite shock and the loss of blood only now hitting him. Alex wasn't sure what to do, pulling Jay into his arms and hurrying to the kitchenette in his apartment. He began pulling out his definitely unhealthy snacks and pushing a few chips to Jay's lips.

“Eat, you lost a lot of blood.” Jay's mouth barely opened as Alex tried to force feed him salty chips, chewing all too slow for Alex's liking. “Fuck fuck please be okay.” Alex wasn't talking to Jay anymore, cursing at himself as Jay seemed happy to slowly chew on the few chips Alex got him to accept.

“I'm okay, Alex.” His voice was clearer, seemingly coming back to himself as Alex mumbled something about Brian killing him. Jay's hand brushed Alex's face, trying to ignore the bright purple bruises from the surprisingly stronger man. Alex held his hand to his face, looking deep in thought.

“I'm sorry for hurting you Jay, I'll get myself under better control-” he was hushed, Jay's forehead coming up to touch his.

“It's okay, you can do that whenever you-”

“Jay what the fuck are you talking about?!” The concern morphed in anger, pulling back and looking at Jay like he was stupid. “I almost fucking killed you?! Do you fucking know that?! Do you fucking know what I am?!” The venomous words fell from him but Jay didn't look surprised, or frightened.

“A vampire? Pretty cool if you ask-” Alex grabbed his face, pupils shrinking to dots as he let out a noise that couldn't have been human. Something so foreign his own body shook.

“Are you fucking stupid?!” Jay actually flinched back this time, only for Alex to realize the man's jaw was red and bruises were blooming from his hand. Alex staggered back, leaving Jay standing where they were and shaking his head. “No its me whos fucking stupid, get the fuck out!”

Jay stood his ground but his legs trembled, his pale face lit by Alex's kitchen light. He looked sick, like he was about to throw up, and Alex second guessed his decision to yell at him. He did that to him, why was he yelling at him? Why do I feel so angry? He reached for Jay, hand going out and he saw Jay step further back.

His face got paler, holding his stomach before he hit the floor. Knees crunching on impact, world spinning as Jay fell face forward onto the floor. His head only avoided the impact because of Alex's arm, holding him off the cold floor. If Alex could see in Jay's mind he might understand his last thought before blackness took him, and he would never have recovered from it.

Is this what death is like?

—-

Tbc JAY AINT DEAD DW he just passed out

[fabdante]

*spins* I guess this counts as drabble more than an ask, but anyway, tell me what you think?

Reboot Dante frantically running from survivor's guilt that started in St. Lamia's Orphanage and just grew from there, trying to bury it all behind a facade of hedonism, selfishness, and apathy. (Remembering his family and what happened to them added to this, tho being able to remember a time when he was safe and loved and had a normal family and home life helped more than it hurt. Most days, anyway.)

But even then, sometimes he'd still care about people, even through all his defenses. Sometimes someone would be kind to him, and he couldn't help it. Sometimes he'd get close to someone, form some kind of connection... and then the cycle would repeat- the demons would do what they always do, and ruin everything. In oh so very many, many different ways. In whatever way hurt the most. There was no escape.

[I'm sure you can add ways that things with Vergil and the Order fucked him up, too, but I'm skipping ahead a bit, for now.]

Vergil coming back as the King of Hell and having a whole host of information on all the people Dante was involved with that the demons hurt, and throwing that/those failures (at least that's how Vergil would phrase it) in Dante's face as a reason why Dante needs him (Vergil) to handle ruling the demons and the humans. As proof that Vergil's way is right, no matter how twisted Vergil's methods have gotten thanks to the power of being King of Hell going to Vergil's head. "All that matters is absolute power", and all that.

And it works! At least, that last part does. Just not in the way Vergil had hoped it would. Because that's the thing that finally pushes Dante over the edge into, "Okay, fuck it" territory, and his goal for this fight goes from "Talk my dumbass little brother out of this" to "Kill him. Kill him, or die trying".

("I hope I die. I hope this kills us both." Because he knows that after this, he's not going to have anything left to go back to, really. Or at least, he knows Kat isn't going to want to see or talk to or hear from him ever again. Which is worse than just dying here, honestly. Or getting trapped in Hell or where ever else.)

Because all that matters is power, right? So then, that's how they'll settle this.

I keep picturing this as after Vergil's stabbed Dante in the chest and taken Dante's amulet, after Dante and Kat have tried over and over to get through to Vergil, and it just. Doesn't work. And now its just Vergil and Dante, and the blood. Dante's kneeling there, impaled on his own sword, but that's fine, because it's the Rebellion.

"Feels good, doesn't it, Vergil? Better than the pain. The fear. The loneliness. All that power... Anyone tries to hurt you, and you can just slip back into that and not care. At least, for a little while. But it all catches up with you, eventually. Bet you know that, too, don't you? That's why it- all this- still hurts."

One last little attempt at talking sense into his little brother, before Dante lets the power the Rebellion is waking up inside him fully consume him. It doesn't work, of course, tho it does kinda unnerve Vergil a bit- which he of course tries to ignore and cover with bravado. And then...

there's no more talking. At least, not from Dante. The most Dante can manage right now is a sort of guttural, snarling roar. Or screaming.

The fight goes from "epic swordsmanship + gunplay battle" to two brothers beating the ever-loving SHIT out of one another- yes, with swords, and guns, and gauntlets, and demonic/angelic energy, but also just with their bare hands. And teeth. No finesse. No fancy moves. Just lots of snarling And blood and raw, brutal violence. And it ain't clean or pretty.

I'd HOPE Dante would snap out of this before he actually killed Vergil, tbh, or that Vergil had the sense to run away before Dante killed him... but then again, he might not.

Don't really have a set "end" for this, so I'll just leave it here.

oh this is fun!!

i do think the like issues with the reboot twins are a lot more um...Violent then the preboot twins, I suppose. idk how to word it. it's just a lot more personal and volatile like idk if i can see the preboot twins ever being pushed to the point of ever wanting to kill each other on purpose. the reboot twins on the other hand...totally different story.

[nrdmssgs]

Darker matters (part 3)

Masterlist Previous part Next part

Angst Pairing: Nikolai x Olga 'Zhar' Samoilova Summary: The fall of Chimeras commander Warnings: Swearing, inaccurate description of military operations.

Author's note: This is a sequel to A heart full of pity. Thanks: My very important people: @homicidal-slvt, @sofasoap and @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot. And a very special thanks to @pale-elysium for the unbelievably beautiful things and words shared.

In the first hours, all sounds around her are drowned out by an unbearable noise in her ears. Olga doesn’t hear Iskras worried voice, doesn’t respond to the calls of the rest of the team. 

Deafening white noise, measured hissing. 

Zhar doesn’t remember how she declares the operation completed, how she gets to the city, finds the secret flat, that Chimera members use as a hideout, when they are in need of one. 

She locks the door and slowly crawls deep into the dark, dusty hallway, only to hide in a corner and scream of horror and powerlessness taking over her body and mind. A strange feeling of déjà vu comes over her: this is not the first time, it hurts so much, not the first time, she feels paralyzed. But no matter, how hard she tries - Olga can't remember, what triggered those emotions for the first time in her life. 

Zhar tries her best to count hours, spent alone in silence, in a dark cold flat with tightly curtained windows. Her anxiousness grows, her instincts beg her to get up, gather all her strength, all Chimera soldiers and declare a war. But Olga knows better. If Nikolai is still alive, any rash step of hers could end his life. So she clutches her teeth, suppresses the guttural howl escaping from the chest, and waits.

***

It seems like the tense silence in Nikolais office doesn't bother Krueger at all. 

“So, anyone has any hiring companies worth of interest on their minds?” One after another, uncomprehending and indignant gazes rise up at him.

“What, I'm supposed to sit tight and mourn our boss, like a good widow? You need that - you go to Zhar, since that joke of a commander decided to not do any-fucking-else.” Iskra turns back to Krueger, ready to put him in his place, but her eyes dart to the entrance and widen. 

“If I'm not mistaken, you all have active contracts…” Olgas voice is hoarse and cold. She flies into the room and walks past soldiers without even turning around. “Yegor - Prague won’t clear itself up. Syd, Kruger - your plane to ‘point 52’ leaves in an hour, so I don’t know what the hell you forgot here. Iskra, you should have returned home yesterday.”

Everybody sit still, not quite understanding, what's going on, while Zhar roams through papers on Nikolais desk. She pauses and looks up on them for the first time. Her face is gray, tired eyes with a dull reddish haze give away her desperate need of sleep.

“Excuse me, did I give any of you a fucking day off today?” Zhar hisses. “Nikolai may not be in this room, but that doesn't mean, you can sit here and relax! Get up and go get angry, Chimeras!”

One by one, every other member except Iskra leaves the room. Staying with Zhar may not be her safest option for now, but Iskra doesn't care.

“Is he alive? Anyone contacted you?” 

Instead of an answer, Olga pulls the recorder from her pocket and places it on the table.

“Those scums even organized a message delivery right to my door.”

Iskra hesitates for a moment, but then turns the device on and presses play button. The message recorded there makes her feel sick. From the very start, when an unfamiliar male voice addresses to Zhar, asking if her back is still rotting, to him proceeding to explain, what is going to happen to her and Nikolai now. 

“I know, you want your friend back. After all, who else would be so merciful to have you every night, yeah? I feel generous today, Olga: you can have that sack of shit back in one piece on one condition. You seem like someone who loves a good show. All that bloody circus you and your comrade brought to my town, after I made a very clear point to stop fucking around my territory…”

Iskra looks up at Zhar and her heart sinks: Olga silently moves her lips, echoing every word coming from the recorder. Apparently she had listened to the message countless times and already knew it by heart.

The recording goes on. “So show it is then: it will be your best one, and I'll make sure, that Nikolai enjoys every single minute of it. You'll take the Chimera and tear it apart. I want every contract turned down, every member deceased, every line of funding dried out. I'm giving you creative freedom here, you piece of meat. And if the thought comes to your mind to call your old friend Price for help, Nikolai will regret that he was not strangled on his first evening with us. Chop-chop, Lieutenant.”

For the next few minutes, the office falls into a deafening silence. Zhar froze, hovering over some documents, scattered on the table. 

“Olya my yego vytashchim... Nikolai zhiv, znachit my yego vytashchim.*” Iskra tries to reach out for Zhars shoulder, but she escapes that friendly gesture.

“I will get him back.” Zhar takes a pencil and starts frantically underlining something in one document. “Keeping you close to myself would mean to draw a big fat target on your backs. So you do your jobs: contracts as usual.”

“And you? Olga, neither I nor others will let you go after Nik alone. Whoever has him - has a network of informants wide enough to find, where you were these days. And they are trying to get Chimera beheaded!”

Olga finally straightens her back, exhales, trying to calm down trembling fingers. “Don't worry - I'm not giving them head of Chimera on a plate. The only way to get our commander back is to start growing the company right now.”

***

The following weeks passed agonizingly slowly. Iskra rarely interacted with the rest of the company at their base. It didn't make her life easier as well, that Zhar prohibited sharing the fact of Nikolais disappearance with anyone, including even Farah. 

On the outside, Chimera was prospering as never before: contracts, funding and agents incoming almost daily. But Iskra knew the cost too well: Olgas slow agony, her eyes, losing light with every next day, her body failing her in return for not sleeping and eating properly, her thoughts, all centering around one goal. In the rare moments, when Zhar came to fetch something from the base, her appearance and behavior frightened Iskra.

“Give me the names of possible contractors - I'll go find them myself. You need to rest!” Iskra saw for so many times, how Nik used to take a part of Olgas work and force her to go sleep, yet it seemed to work only with him. Zhar didn't even think to let anyone help her, she was too afraid of losing people.

“I'm fine, I just need to collect a few things.” She isn't about to pause, even for an hour, before she takes back, what was hers. 

Every time it was ‘a few more things’, ‘more intel’, ‘more people’. Every night Zhar felt, she was on the edge of breaking down, but something unkind, inhuman made her go on. It wasn't love or hope, it felt like a hungry, raging fire consuming her body and mind. 

***

Nikolai doesn't react to someone entering his cell. He knows too well to waste energy, when each visit could end up with a beating. An echo of approaching footsteps and the lingering creak with which a heavy chair was pushed towards his mattress don't bother him either. He lays there, folding his arms across his chest, staring at the gray ceiling. Nikolai knows his visitor too well to start speaking first. 

“You know, I start regretting getting you - not her. If it was that stupid cunt laying on your place right now - you'd have already brought a fucking army here. But Olga is no fun - she's good only for hiding and feeling sorry for herself.” The man speaking makes a pause, hoping that Nikolai would answer. But he gets only an indifferent look from his captive, so he has to go on.

“It's been almost a year, since I started taking care of her, you know? She nosed in my business, so my friends and I gave her a clue on how can she live long a sleep sound. A clue so big, she needed her entire back and good half of ass to learn the lesson. Now she lost her boyfriend, so I reached out again and explained, how to get him back. I thought, by this time, she'd learn how to listen, when she's spoken to. Two weeks pass, and she didn't even try to move in a right direction.” Nik bites his cheek, so as not to inadvertently smile after hearing that.

“Talk to me, tovarishch. I know, you fucking love a good conversation.” The man sitting on a chair is losing patience. Nikolai looks to his side briefly, not even moving his head.

“What is there more to say, when you already told everything?” Nik sighs, as if he is sincerely pitying his opponent. “Zhar slapped your face so hard with that operation - it still hurts. And you could win yourself a quick and easy death, but you felt fancy and chose her as your gravedigger instead of me. With each next day, you only realize it more, how deeply fucked you are. So you crawl to me to cry on my shoulder.”

Nikolai is sure, they'll start beating him, so he relaxes and lets himself a small grin. But his captor starts laughing.

“You merry son of a bitch. You Russians are all so bloody funny, when you are on the verge of dying. You know, that actually gives me an idea…” The man laughs so loud, it becomes annoying. “How about we send your girl a helping hand? I know this fella, they'll find so much in common pretty fast. She'll find him… pretty amusing.”

Nikolai doesn't like, how light-hearted his opponent voice sounds, when he has thrown that last phrase, leaving a room, where they kept Nik for the last few weeks.

***

Olga knows: sooner or later it must happen. Her time runs out, every new piece of intel on her enemies, makes her understand, the fight is going to be unfair and painful. 

Last year, when Price sent her and Nikolai to that ill-fated mission, she crossed too many paths. At some point, a revenge must find her. She was hoping, it will all resolve quickly: one bullet in her skull. But instead they took Nikolai, leaving her nothing, but terror, circling her mind.

Not taking an incredible difficulty with which she managed to obtain every bit of information and win over a new fighter to her side into account, things weren’t going so bad for her. Up to this day.

This informant was especially valuable: he could give away the location of the enemy base where they were holding Nik. She left the station and immediately called him: the meeting was to take place in a back alley. Olga freezes when a fire truck, then an ambulance, pulls out onto the road she was walking along. She quickens her pace and soon starts running. 

Her exhausted body resists, but she stubbornly continues to run. It is only after seeing a massive plume of smoke pouring out of a car parked at their meeting point that Zhar stops. Someone's invisible eyes saw her right now, someone knew about her plans, someone's hands were ready to squeeze around her throat.

Olya my yego vytashchim... Nikolai zhiv, znachit my yego vytashchim. - Olga (diminutive form), we'll get him... Nikolai is alive, so we will definitely get him back.

Next part

[peony-pearl]

This scene for the ‘Timeline Collision’ au keeps rotating in my brain; I’d thought about making it a comic but hand and brain won’t work together on that right now so maybe I can write it and doodle scenes afterwards.

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

“Uncle!”

Iroh looked up to find Zuko running towards him at full speed; the young Fire Lord was about spent, his throat and muscles burning as his uncle gripped his shoulders. “I can’t find her,” Zuko wheezed in agony. “Her or Lu Ten; I’m worried.”

Iroh chewed his lip; his past self and his son had taken his niece hostage after her true alliances were made. They hoped to reel her in back to their side... or to dispose of the ‘traitor’.

“I gotta... I gotta find...” Zuko’s voice withered into a wheeze and a cough, and Iroh pressed his hands against his nephew’s shoulders.

“Stay down, I’ll go look for her. Is anyone else on their way?”

Zuko breathed, and he nodded. That was all Iroh needed to know before he darted off into the forest.

It was a harrowing trek - but he hadn’t completely become as domesticated as his younger self figured. He remembered quite well how to navigate slippery slopes and ravines, and how to not tumble head-first into a shrub that hid a cliffside. He was traveling upwards, up a mountainous hill. What were they doing with her?

Sweat beaded at his brow. His breath grew as ragged as Zuko’s. He worried his firebending wouldn’t be as powerful at the rate he was going. He fumbled through his supplies, finding his everyday tools for the teashop still hidden on him. Kindling, cheesecloth, twine; he sighed, both in relief and fear when he saw he still had his best knife on his person.

But fear was exacerbated as a scream permeated the air around him.

It was Azula.

Her own scream wasn’t out of fear - it was pain. It was a ragged, guttural scream that echoed into the cavernous mountains around him.

Iroh’s legs started without him realizing it. He started back up the climb, at times using his hands to grip into the earth around him. Now would be a good time to have Toph with him - but he didn’t, so he had to ignore the effects of the fine living in Ba Sing Se. He’d once seen these hands go uncared for many times before; he would again one day.

The ground began to level out; he heard another scream. His lungs felt like sparks were igniting with each breath, but he had to continue, even as his body shook from the climb.

“Fuck you,” Iroh heard Azula’s unmistakable growl.

His heart ached as he heard Lu Ten’s voice.

“I gave you a choice.”

“You gave me NOTHING!” Azula snarled. Iroh stumbled upon the scene, nearly heaving as they didn’t notice him in the distance. Lu Ten held a decent-sized rock in his hand. Beneath him, Azula curled up on the ground, her hands a bloody, smashed mess. Tears fell from her eyes, but she offered her cousin no other source of emotion to use her with.

Lu Ten shook his head. “We gave you everything. We gave you a whole new chance to start this world over. To reclaim the family honor! And you, and Zuko, and that blasted old man threw it back in our faces!”

“You won’t even call him your father.”

“My father still has his dignity. That shriveled old wretch is not my father. He’s grown into something pathetic, something disgusting. To see the visage of my father look so washed up and docile? Do you know how infuriating it is? For him to say it’s all for me? All for his own son that he would put his tail between his legs and say he was wrong about our birthright? That I was wrong? That what I died for WAS WRONG?!”

Azula shuddered as she tried to manage her broken hands, but nothing she did mattered. Her head pressed into the grass as pain shot through her.

She laughed.

“When he came home... when I was little I made fun of him. Now... I may not completely understand but... when my own father left me with nothing all I wanted was to see him. For him to come home and just... be my dad. I was hurting and so lonely and... I see what happened now. My father didn’t care. He still doesn’t understand when I tell him that what we were doing completely obliterated my perception of the world around me. I lost my friends, my sense of self... I just wanted my dad. Or even my mom. I just wanted... someone to make me feel like what I was going through mattered. I did everything right and it still took everything away from me. And when I think about how my uncle came home crying... I get it.”

Lu Ten knelt down next to Azula, still holding the rock. “But does he get you, Azula? Does he understand you?”

Azula winced under her breath. Lu Ten patted the rock.

“Well, no matter. Don’t worry; all this pain you’re in will soon be over. Just... take a deep breath, and close your eyes.”

Azula saw the shadow of her cousin raise the rock. She braced herself, tears melting into the dirt below her-

The rock fell - but not on her.

Azula heard it thud just inches from her face, and she gasped as the footsteps that had raced towards her registered in her mind.

The fluttering of fabric, the snarls, the sounds of feet digging into the ground, Azula looked up to find silhouettes in the dying afternoon sun - and yet she knew that silhouette fighting Lu Ten.

“Uncle?” She rasped, watching Iroh and Lu Ten in a duel - but no blows were exchanged as he’d grabbed Lu Ten’s hands, and didn’t let go. Lu Ten bared his teeth at the old man.

“UNHAND ME! YOU VILE -” he headbutted Iroh “- FOUL COCKROACH!”

Iroh stumbled back, but he didn’t waste time stopping Lu Ten from attacking. He swiped at Lu Ten’s legs with his, proving he was still agile. Lu Ten cursed at him, grabbing Iroh’s foot and pulling him down with him before recovering and slamming a flaming hand down onto the grass.

“What’s this?!” Lu Ten asked. “Where’s Zuko? Little Fire Lord can’t get involved and watch his sister and uncle die?”

Iroh recovered to his feet, but not to a defensive position. He looked at Lu Ten. He could hear Azula wincing behind him.

Iroh’s burning breath became worse.

“This is what you want, Lu Ten?” He asked.

“You know nothing of what I want. Once I get rid of you and this failure, Zuko won’t be too hard to find. With him I can lure the Avatar and take them out. Just get the waterbender first and then when the Avatar is all choked up... You know.” Lu Ten made a motion with his finger across his neck. “Too easy. Father’s gained plenty of knowledge from Ozai on how the little beast fights, so even if he retaliates, he’ll be ready.”

“... And this is what you want?”

Lu Ten scoffed. “Are you going deaf, old man? Are you going mad?! My entire life has led up to this. Not only have we secured Ba Sing Se in our timeline, but here, we can fix this mess. The mess YOU started!”

Iroh’s hands trembled. “... I can’t let you do that. I won’t let you hurt anyone else.”

“What do you care? YOU HAVE NOTHING! The moment your little tea shop friends found out who you were they LEFT you!”

“They had every right to.”

“Oh, don’t give me that shit. You’d really roll on your back like a damned dog, wouldn’t you?! You’re a coward.”

“... You’re right.”

The joy in Lu Ten’s face began to drain. His lit his hands ablaze as he began to approach the specter or his father.

“I’m tired of this. You two die here.”

Iroh closed his eyes. Tears fell down his cheeks as he stood planted in the ground as Lu Ten’s advance became a charge.

Azula watched him reach into his pocket, and as Lu Ten reared his hands back, Iroh moved.

He grabbed Lu Ten’s arm, stopping his attack just as he then gripped the back of his son’s neck, and he punched him right in his abdomen.

Or so, Azula thought he punched him. She watched Lu Ten immediately halt; his firebending ceased, and his eyes were wide as his chin landed on Iroh’s shoulder.

A broken gasp trickled from Lu Ten’s throat. Iroh held the boy closer to him.

In Iroh’s other hand was the knife he’d found, buried hilt-deep into Lu Ten’s stomach.

Iroh pressed his forehead into his son’s shoulder, his lungs finally squeezing out a sob.

“I’m sorry.”

Lu Ten fought to breathe; he stumbled, falling backwards as Iroh lost his grip on the knife, his hands already coated in blood. Lu Ten looked at the knife sticking out of his stomach.

“What have you done to me?” Lu Ten choked.

Azula stared in wide eyed disbelief.

Iroh’s hands reached out towards Lu Ten, who used one of his legs to scoot himself away from Iroh, but the pain was spreading. He looked up at Iroh, who met his gaze with unmitigated sorrow and regret.

“Oh, Lu Ten... I’m sorry.”

Tears began to fall from Lu Ten’s eyes, his face became pale as breathing became harder.

But the moment Iroh heard Azula wince again, his heels dug into the earth, rushing to help her up and struggling with his slippery, bloodied hands.

“BASTARD!” Lu Ten screamed, his voice becoming garbled with blood. He choked as Azula watched Iroh’s face as she was helped to her feet. “TRAITOR!”

“Uncle,” Azula breathed. He looked at her, trying to ignore the sounds of his son behind him.

“Zuko is at the foot of the mountain with reinforcements on their way. We have to go now before he... before I show up. I’ve got you, now run!”

[xxx-sir-pentious-xxx]

Pentious snaps and ends up killing hazbin crew

Bullying, gore mild, what if, charlie doesn't die because shes actually nice to him, other two were on guard.

Angel just wouldn't shut up, constantly talking about him getting beat up, Husk trying to smooth it over didnt help at all but he tried to keep it together. And then right as he got hopeful to get his eggs back hes told Alastor managed to get them all broken.

Charlie noticed it immediately Pentious was looking like he couldn't decide who he wanted to fuck up first. Charlie had enough wits to hug him and guide him away as he was about to lock on to Alastor first.

Angel stopped talking by then catching the look of pure hate. He heard that deep guttural growling only cobras could do.

It was extremely hard to sleep for everyone but Charlie who opted to sleep beside Pentious who honestly really appreciated it. I had to break away from her though. He needed revenge.

It started with Alastor. That was as simple as jumping on him biting injecting him. It wasnt a permanent death he knew but it still felt good. None of these were permanent he just wanted a point to be made. He wanted to be given real respect.

"IM NOT WEAK."

He ripped Alastors head clean off after a few pulls tossing it onto Husk who was hiding behind the bar to avoid Alastor. Husk screamed giving his spot away and was leapt upon really fast smashing into his old chest to break it and keep him quiet.

Husk was suffocating from this and would die while Pentious was already on route to Angel who was blocking his door with a chair and trying to get the window open to get out through there, the window didnt budge and he was taken by surprise when the door started to get ripped through. Pentious force his way through the hole he made, he fell through and managed to scramble to Angel before he could get his gun. He began using his sharp teeth to rip through Angel's arms one by one so he couldn't do anything, also mostly so he could choke him out like he wanted.

"Not so funny now huh? Yeah?"

Angel obviously couldn't talk and only weakly kicked as he lost oxygen and felt his neck give in and shatter under the pressure of his strangle hold.

Fat nuggits bit Pentious for this but he had no beef with the lil thing, he made sure to feed the piglet and get fresh water before going around to find anyone else who could take. He decide not to go after Vaggie who was awake and on guard alone with Nifty. That wasnt worth it. He returned to Charlie and locked his area off tightly and returned to the sleeping princess still covered in his sin and some blood on his face.

He felt better at least.

[lunaeverywhere]

Mansion

When you realized that not only was the old house in the heart of the woods abandoned, it was unlocked, you just had to explore. Turning the knob, the door sticks for just a moment before opening. You click on your flashlight as you step in, the smell of old wood first detail.

The foyer is covered in dust and cobwebs, but the furnishings are in good shape. At your feet is a fine rug, the rich blues and reds visible even through dust. There are so many doors on the lower floor alone, the hallways and doors the floor above visible from a balcony floor.

Wandering the first floor, you find offices, kitchens, guest rooms, and more. An undrained pool has a thick layer of algae over top. The gardens in the back are thick with kudzu, the fences one of the few places of rot you see. So much of the furniture is untouched, if dusty.

It takes you several days of exploring and poking around, but you thoroughly explore the first floor. A surprising amount of valuables remain. You choose to keep them as mementos, rather than sell them, that feels too wrong. You even wear some of the jewelry once you clean it.

You explore the second floor, this one full of bedrooms, offices, and other private rooms. The doors on this floor are a little more stuck, you have to push them a little more to get in as if they briefly resist.

You find even more stuff, wondering how no one else took them. You find the master bedroom, way in the back of the house. The bedsheets are immaculate save the omnipresent layer of dust. Its amazing how few bugs youve seen, the place should be crawling with roaches and moths, you're pretty sure only the ones you accidentally let in.

You just start to explore that room, when you hear the front door crash open. You run to check, and find a group of people, hiding their faces with hoods and masks, bats and spray paint in hand. Things are already broken. You grip the banister and scream at them enraged: Get Out!

They look up, and laugh. You feel the jewelry on your wrist and hands and neck burn, not painful but raging. You shout again, without words, a guttural scream with a voice barely your own. You do not want this place damaged, or even to have anyone who would want to here.

The dust around raises with your voice. You feel an presence around you, and become acutely aware of the entire mansion at your feet. The furnishings, grounds, all of it. The back of your mind takes notes of the way to the basement and attic before your anger washes that out.

You raise your hand, the gems on the rings on your fingers glinting with an unseen light. One of the intruders raises up with your hand. The others start to leave, their dead sprint stopped by the door slamming shut. They will understand their place. You grip tight and they gasp.

You raise them up to your perch on the mezzanine, looking them in their terror filled eyes. They clearly understand they are not welcome here, as do their friends. Your better judgement takes over, your rage still feels justified but your actions feel cruel. The gems' glow dulls.

You release them, and the door swings open. They don't need more. The door slams behind them the instant their feet cross the threshold. You take a moment to catch your breath. There is something in this place. And yet - or perhaps because of it - you have to keep looking.

You return to the bedroom. Able to take full stock, you see a mirror, covered in cloth. You pull the cloth, kicking up a huge cloud of dust that quickly settles like everywhere else. The mirror itself is pristine and clear. You study the reflection, feeling something within it.

You touch the surface of the mirror. Your reflection grips your hand. You panic for just an instant, but realize that they're only gripping your hand. You step back, and they willingly follow, emerging from the mirror until you are looking at a perfect replica of yourself.

They smile at you sweetly, and step in close to you, your hips against the bed. The replica pushes you back onto the bed, dust kicking up, but dissipating, not settling. They straddle you, dragging their free hand against your chest over your clothes, and lean in to kiss you.

The feeling of your own lips against yours is unfamiliar, but soon you love the sensation. You kiss your mirror, gripping their hand tighter and soon one kiss becomes many becomes passionate. You pull the reflection in tight, the straddle becoming laying atop you.

As soon as you break, you're in a hurry to tear clothes off the other, a race to nudity. They are a perfect copy of you. You've never felt more in love with your own form. Hands and lips explore, your body and hands unusual on each other. They pleasure as only a copy could.

You spend hours, in every position, every lovely word shared exactly what you want to hear. You love the feeling of your own skin, of your own penetration and penetration. You join in pleasurable perfect symmetry. You both collapse in identical panting, evenly out of breath.

You look to yourself and smile, and your reflection returns in kind. You admit love for each other. You both close your eyes and drift off, holding each other close. When you come to, they're still right next to you. Your senses come to you and you hold back panic.

They seem to differ from you in one way, they know a lot about this mansion. The jewelry you've been collecting and the care you've taken has made the mansion select you as its heir. The grounds will be kind to you and those you let in. Your restoration of it will be effortless.

They also are of the mansion, but as you've seen they are a replica of you. You concentrate and can feel the dust peeling away from the house, you now truly unsure how old - or even what - this house is. But you have a new home, and the most perfect lover in yourself.

[sarandipitywrites]

Word Find Tag

from an open tag from @i-can-even-burn-salad, here.

my words: blood/bleed, scream, impale and shatter.

your words: electric, fire, bury, and spit.

a gentle tag to @innocentlymacabre, @spuddlespud, and an open tag to anyone else who wants to play

these are all from my fanfic WIP, "Dead Roots, Dark Water." under the cut for brief gore and references to past trauma

Blood

They hit the floor and rolled. Daxter gasped, smoke and heat singing his lungs. Cold metal scraped across his forehead, left burning skin in its wake. The weight left him, the air on his back frigid in its absence. He turned his head, cheek pressed to the floor. The room spun, blurry silver on red on yellow. A gray shape moved between Daxter and the red. It stepped forward and let out a roar. Guttural. Inhuman. Daxter’s mouth went dry. “Mar’s blood—” “What is that?” “One of those… things.” “That’s what they told us to—?” “Shoot it, shoot it—” The prisoner coiled and pounced upon the guards. They drove their elbow through the first guard’s faceplate with a crunch. Bright red flecked the floor by Daxter’s face. Acid rose in Daxter’s throat. He groaned and rolled onto his back, pressed his fingers into the corners of his eyes. Screams, snarls, squelches echoed in the darkness behind his eyelids.

Scream

Red metal approached them, helmet fixed straight ahead, staring past. It would pass right by, close enough to touch. Close enough to grab, to bend the arms back until joints popped from sockets, to bury his fingers into the thin cloth connecting helmet to breastplate until they found flesh, to dig deeper until red ran over red, until his fingernails scraped tracheal cartilage and the screams whistled out through punctured— Jak dug his nails into his palm, gnashed his teeth until his jaw screamed. The guard walked past. It didn’t look at him once. But Daxter did.

Impale

—Electric fire burned under his skin, tore through his bones. He arched up, away from the metal table. Straps cut into his wrists and ankles. Through the screaming and the blood and the ozone, a voice. “I was told this one might be different.” A presence beside him. “You will succeed.” A large hand clamped around his jaw, squeezed until the hinge popped. “Or you will die trying.” More pain, more eco, too much, his heart would burst, send it away, away— “—k? Jak.” The brassy, nasal shrill cut through the roar of blood in his ears. His breath rattled in his lungs. A red light. The impaled metal head sigil floating over a steel podium. Daxter. Daxter was there. It wasn’t real. If Daxter was there, then the injector was not. It wasn’t real.

Shatter

Samos chewed his tongue, but he'd already made his decision. "There's no saving it," he declared. "We'll need to amputate." He got out the bone saw and sutures, the poppy tincture and leather strips. He sat Adis at the exam table and turned to Jak. "You'll take this from here, my boy. You know what to do." That pulled Jak from his trance, from the bits of bone poking out of the flesh like splinters of shattered stars. What did Samos mean, he 'knew'? He 'knew' in the sense that he'd read about it in textbooks and lab notes, but he'd never seen it done. The only amputee in Sandover was Gord, and if there'd ever been a Harvest Eve where Gord didn't drink too much ale and tell everyone about the lurker shark that'd gotten his leg, it was too long ago for Jak to remember— "Remember to give him exactly seven drops of tincture, and leave enough skin to cover the stump. Good luck, my boy." Samos clopped away, his cane striking the floor with each step. Zeb and Adis stared at Jak. At the boy in whose care they'd been left.

[nomdepen]

"My heart had belonged to Colin Bridgerton from the moment my family moved to Mayfair." The admission rolls from her lips with such bitterness that it surprises even herself. Since she was twelve years old, she had only held Colin in the highest regard. There was little he could do wrong, and even less that would sway Pen's affections for him. Even when he'd left for Greece, she'd loved him. Up until a few weeks ago, she thought she had still loved him.

But now, she wasn't sure what she felt.

"I did not tell you because I did not want you to pity me. I haven't told anyone for that exact reason. Even Eloise does not know of my feelings. If she did, surely she would..." Pen shakes her head, letting out a humorless laugh as she tried to sort all the words rising to her lips. "But then I met you, and I thought--"

Pen wants to scream, to let a guttural sob tear from her chest like a wild animal. She can taste bile gathering at the back of her throat, the poison from her heart leaking out of every pore, and it takes every ounce of strength she has not to combust into a million pieces. Unable to handle all the energy in her bones, she begins to pace.

"Eloise was right about me. About everything. I'm a coward, and a liar, and I will always be alone because of it. I deserve to be alone because of it. She was right." Pen sucks in a breath as the words continue to seep from the cracks of her heart. Despite her brain knowing it she needed to stop talking, her body betrayed her. "My heart has always been bigger than my eyes. I've always tried to be a good person, but I forget who I am to people. A nobody. A measly garden weed wishing to be a rose.

"I will never be enough. Ever. Not to my mother, not to Colin. Not to you." A breath escapes her, long and staggered as the air fills her lungs again. She sniffles, wiping away the tears collecting at the base of her nose, too distracted with grief to care if any snot was mixed in. It didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore.

"Things were easier when it was just Colin. My heart had something to focus on, even if I knew it was just a stupid fantasy. And when he left, I thought I'd feel..." Better? Stronger? Braver? "But, then... And, you... And, I just... Ugh!"

Raising her hands to her head she let out a frustrated sob. Pen felt as though she might drown in her own tears, that she might cry herself dry and wither away on the drawing room floor.

"Love wasn't supposed to be so confusing. Love wasn't supposed to hurt this much..."

If Ben didn't think her a pathetic creature before, she's certain he must now. The only person who had ever seen her this torn apart was Eloise and even she did not know the cause of it. To confess her feelings, to admit the root of all her suffering should've made her feel lighter. It should've been cathartic. And if it were in front of anyone else, it might've been.

"Yeah, yes." His words seem to sober her up and Pen attempts to collect herself. Shaking hands flatten out the wrinkles of her bodice, hoping to look presentable enough to walk home in the light of day. "You're right, yes, Gregory will be expecting you back soon. Forgive me for causing such a scene, I shouldn't have been so..." It's as though she's forgotten how to speak. Words that always came so easily to her seemed to float above her head, just out of reach. She just needed to catch her breath. She just needed to be alone, even if its not exactly what she wanted.

"I think," Her voice takes on what she hopes is a ladylike tone, so that she may preserve her last scraps of dignity before she was cast out of the Bridgerton house. "I think I may wait a moment to collect myself before I see myself out., if that's alright?"

Penelope's soft sob tore through his heart strings and jangled up into his throat, rendering him speechless, suffocating him as she wept into the fabric of his lapel. He didn't understand it. Benjamin couldn't understand how one person's pain could affect him so deeply, nor how helpless he could feel, knowing that he was unable to soothe such anguish.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, even if he didn't fully grasp what he was apologizing for. "I'm sorry, I..." She broke away from him then, quickly drying her eyes.

Penelope spoke in a panic of Eloise -- of Colin -- and perplexed, Benjamin's heart bobbed in his chest. "What do you mean?" he asked. "Why should Colin be bothered? Surely, he left knowing he spiraled you into a state?"

The look of despair settled fully over Penelope's features, and a dawning realization sank low in Benjamin's stomach. No, he realized. Colin did not know of her tears, because he did not know she would react so strongly toward his happy tales of bliss and women during his travels.

Penelope was distressed for very much the same reason he was these past few weeks: she was in love.

Face paling, Benjamin drew in a halting breath and blinked, suddenly finding it difficult to draw proper air into his lungs. "Oh," was all he could think to say. His vision blurred over, and swallowing, he was quick to draw his arm away from the door, allowing her room to pass. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I...I-I didn't realize you held so much affection for Mr. Bridgerton."

Eyes remaining downcast, Benjamin rolled his lips inward, and he offered a stilted bow. "If Miss Eloise still harbors even an ounce of affection for you, I am certain she'll be thrilled. I should return to Gregory..." Glancing over his shoulder, Benjamin softly concluded, "I left him with his arithmetic. There's only so long that can keep him entertained."

[inkrabbit]

Can I request Sodo or Aether x dying gn reader where reader gets seriously injured and ends up passing away? I’m craving some heavy angst 

Hopefully this is good enough anon <333

I actually had a friend years ago who had gotten in a car accident and had a metal pipe go through his throat. Unlike the reader in this fic, he actually lived, but I used that as a sort of inspiration.

For obvious reasons: TW for blood, injury and death below the cut!

It was supposed to be fun. It was supposed to just be a day where nothing else mattered except you two together. Maybe if he hadn’t taken you out, this wouldn’t have happened. You’d still be here with him. But how could either of you know this is what the day was going to hold?

It was his fault. It was all his fault this happened. He should’ve made sure you were right next to him. He should’ve been looking around at your surroundings more closely. He should’ve done something.

He should’ve been the one in your place.

The movie had been good and dinner was great. You two had laughed and joked the whole time, hands refusing to let go of each other and squeezing here and there. He always loved your smile. Did you know that? Did you know how happy you made him? Did you know that anytime you weren’t with him, his mood dropped a considerable amount?

You two decided to take a walk around town after dinner, hands still in the others. He matched your smile and happy energy, pressing a kiss to your head here and there. You had been passing by a building still in the construction process when it happened. You had pulled yourself away from his body, just for those few seconds, eyes lit up as you gave him that smile.

The piece of rebar fell from just the right angle somewhere above and entered through the back of your neck, exiting through the front. It was all so surreal, your smile having dropped as you let go of his hand. He remembers freezing. He remembers you trying to hold onto your throat as blood poured from not only the wound but from your mouth as well.

The scream he lets out is unholy and guttural as he falls with you.

Aether:

He knows there’s nothing he can do as he pulls you into his lap, voice cracking as he tries to talk to you. Humans may be able to take a lot, but he knows this isn’t something you’d survive. He can tell by how you’re choking and gagging, body jerking as you try to breathe. It doesn’t take long. It doesn’t take long for you to finally stop moving and fall limp in his lap. He doesn’t even realize he’s let his human appearance slip until he moves his tail to curl around you.

He’s still screaming as he sobs, his chest feeling like it’s caving in as he bends over you. He can feel anyone and everyone looking at him but he’s too focused on you. You don’t respond to anything, not that that’s too surprising. But it doesn’t stop him from squeezing your hand as he begs for you to come back to him.

Everything about you looks so unnatural. The way your eyes are glazed over and unfocused. How limp you lay against him, head cocked at an awkward angle as the metal determined your last conscious position. Your scent is quickly fading and he hates it more than everything. It’s the signal that you’re truly gone. That he’s actually alone now. That none of this is just some elaborate prank and you won’t get up and laugh at him for being so scared.

It’s enough for another scream to escape him. He’s soaked in your blood, hot and sticky against his own skin.

“Please! Please!” It’s all he can say as he squeezes your hand again. He wants to ask the crowd for help, but he’s not strong enough to let you go, bristling and letting out a pathetic growl when he feels someone try to approach you two. He knows this is it. He knows he needs to let them take you and do their human things; take you to the hospital, officially pronounce you dead.

But he can’t let you go. He’s not strong enough too.

Sodo:

His hands fly to your neck in a futile attempt to help you stop the blood. Tears are already spilling from his eyes as he hovers over you.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” His voice cracks as your blood seeps through his hands. No. Lucifer, please.

Your mouth has been hanging open, desperately trying to gasp for air but he knows it’s not working. He watches your lips move, mouthing his name as you stare at him. One of your hands slip out from under his as you use the last of your strength to reach up to him. Your fingers graze his cheek, just enough for your blood to smear against his skin but you don’t get the chance to fully complete the action. Your hand drops to the ground as you finally stop moving – finally stop focusing on his face as your body relaxed.

“No- no! Wake up! Hey!” His hand moves from your throat to your shoulder, trying to shake you. Everything flashes in his mind. How you two had met; the first date he took you on; that sweet little smile you always gave him in the morning when he woke up beside you. “You can’t leave me! I need you!”

He hears someone approach. Another human just wanting to help. Sodo closes in more on your body, tail wrapping around you as he snarls at the man behind him. He doesn’t want these people to touch you. He doesn’t know them and he doesn’t want to get to know them. When the man doesn’t take the hint, Sodo snaps at him, fangs close to puncturing skin. The crowd that had formed takes a few steps back as his eyes sweep over them. Why couldn’t it have been any one of them? Why did it have to be you?

Why did he have to bring you out today? It was all his fault.

[hpimaginesandblurbs]

Can you do a maurder smut please 🥺? I absolutely love them! Thank you love 😘😘!!

pairing: young!remus lupin x reader

warning(s): 18+ only, smut, unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it), praise kink, slight degradation (if you squint) 

word count: 1.6k 

a/n: i also love the marauders. my little broken babies. if you like fanfic, please go read ‘debt of time’ by ShayaLonnie and/or ‘all the young dudes’ by MsKingBean89 (both on AO3). both of them are super long and super good. i cried reading both

The full moon was fast approaching and you could tell Remus was on edge this month. You could see it in the way he held himself during dinner, stiff as a board and positively tense. The way he forced himself to chuckle at James and Siruis’ dumb jokes, when usually he would be joining right in with them. The way he forced himself into polite conversation with Peter, Lily, Mary or whoever else felt like chatting with him.

But you could especially tell because of the way he had a possessive death grip on your thigh all throughout dinner. It was like he couldn’t seem to get himself to loosen up or remove his grip. It seemed like it was the only thing keeping him stable in the moment.

It didn’t happen often, but some months in the lead up to the full moon, Remus would be on edge. When it did happen, it could always go one of two ways. He’d either be irritable and anxious or he’d be absolutely possessive and, well, there was no other word for it besides feral. This month seemed like it was turning into the latter.

That was only confirmed to you when, after dinner, he wasted no time in dragging you up to his dormitory and pinning you against the door. He locked you in a ferocious kiss, mostly tongue and teeth, while his pelvis ground against yours.

When he pulled away, you could see nothing but lust, possession, and danger in his eyes. With his forehead resting against yours he whispered, “Y/N, I don’t want to hurt you.”

You knew it was his way of asking, no, begging, for permission to let lose tonight. To get all of this pent up energy and emotion out of his system before the full moon came.

“You know I like it when you get rough,” you replied, a small smirk on your face to let him know he had full permission to do as he pleased.

“Y/N,” he whined out, his hips stuttering for a moment before making eye contact again. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” 

Next thing you knew, you were being hoisted in the air with his hands firmly placed on the backs of your thighs and being carried over to his four poster bed. He used all of the control he had left to place you onto the bed before he climbed in over you. 

You found yourself in another heated kiss while clothes rapidly came off. There was nothing slow or graceful about the way either of you were moving, it was simply just raw need consuming the both of you. 

When you were finally naked underneath him, he pulled himself away to look down at you. His eyes raked over you hungrily and he ran his tongue along his bottom lip as he took you in. 

“Can you stay quiet for me?” He asked, a hand coming up to trail along your thighs as it slowly made it’s way to your core. “Or do I need to cast a silencing charm? I’d rather hate it if anyone heard what’s mine.” 

You opened your mouth to reply, but all the air drained from your lungs in a breathy moan when his finger trailed up your slit and moved directly to your clit. “Fuck,” you whimpered, unable to control the noises that were already leaving you. 

“I’ve barely even touched you and you’re already this wet? And already this loud?” He asked almost mockingly, but he diligently picked up his wand and cast a silent charm around the room to ensure no one would hear you but him. “All this for me?” He continued, an eyebrow raised as he hovered above you, his fingers never once straying from your drenched core. 

“All for you, Remus. I’m all yours,” you replied softly. And in a bold move that you knew would only spur him on, you continued. “Use me, take me, please.” 

It was him then that couldn’t stop the groan that spilled from his lips or the way his hard cock twitched against your thigh, wetting the flesh with precum. 

Without even a warning, he ripped his hand away from your center and moved to align his cock with your entrance. He took a moment to steady himself as he rubbed the tip of himself along your clit, sending spark after spark of pleasure through your body. 

“Are you gonna be good for me tonight, love? Gonna take me like the good girl I know you are and scream my name?” He asked, just the tip of him inside you now gently thrusting in and out - taunting you. 

You could only nod your head in return, too distracted by the anticipation of his thick cock finally being pushed inside of you, too frustrated by what he was currently doing to properly form words. 

“Use your words,” he said gently, a complete juxtaposition from his body language that oozed raw dominance. 

It was moments like these that left you in awe of your boyfriend. He was usually so quiet, so controlled, so reserved. Especially compared to his more unruly friends. But he when he had you alone like this, hovering over you in bed, in complete control of your mind and your body, he was a force to be reckoned with. And then only left you even more wet for him. 

“Please, Re. I think I need it as bad as you do right now,” you finally managed to pull yourself just enough to form once sentence. 

And that one sentence was all it took for Remus to fully sheath himself inside of you, his thick cock stretching you out and forcing you to let out a high moan.

“Oh, darling, you definitely don’t need it as bad as I do right now,” he half argued with a smirk on his face as he watched the way your own contorted in pleasure. And with that last sentiment, he kicked off. 

He was thrusting in and out of you so harshly that the bed was slamming up against the wall repeatedly and both of your bodies were moving inch by inch up the bed until he used one arm to brace himself against the headboard. 

Neither of you could contain the animalistic noises falling from your lips, the both of you too lost in pleasure to try to stop it. You hands slowly found their way to grip his back, your nails harshly digging into his flesh enough to make him grunt into your neck. But he never let up, so neither did you. 

“You’re so fucking tight. Like a fucking vice around me. Nothing could ever feel as good as you darling,” he blurted out in between thrusts, just wanting to let you know exactly how good you were being for him. “Turn over,” he added suddenly, his cock leaving your body as he waited for you to follow his command. 

You did so with ease and positioned yourself exactly how he liked, almost like you were offering your body up to him. Your ass was up in front of him, exposing everything to him, back completely arched, so far down your breasts were rubbing up against his sheets, and you placed yourself face down into the mattress. This position gave him full access to you and gave you zero control. But that was exactly how it needed to be right now. 

“Look at my pretty little whore,” he mused to himself as he ran the tip of his cock along your slit again. You couldn’t really see him from your angle, but you could see the shit eating grin he had on his face. 

And just like that he was back inside of you, his thick cock forcing your back to arch further as you fought to relax to take it in. From this angle you could feel everything - every vein, every ridge, every glorious inch. It was like magic. 

Remus leaned over you, his chest connected to your back, caging you in with his body and arms. He held you in place while he absolutely wrecked you, the moans from both of you only growing louder and louder by the thrust. 

You could feel yourself getting closer and closer, your body shaking and your mouth spilling a steady string of expletives. Remus, ever observant, noticed it right away. He trailed a finger down your body and to your clit, a guttural moan forcing its way from your throat at the action. 

“Cum for me. Cum for me and scream,” he spoke lowly into your ear, the breath hot against the side of your face. It was quite possibly one of the most erotic things you’ve ever heard come out of him just by the way he said it. 

And you did just what he wanted, your body fully under his command. Your core clenched around him tightly as you came and a scream of his name fell from your lips just in time for his own release. You could feel his cum fill you up, only prolonging your bliss as he worked you both through the end. 

You both stayed like that for a moment, silent but for your panting breaths and completely still in his arms that had never left you. Finally he pulled out, an unexpected whimper coming from you at the sudden emptiness, but he just chuckled as he sat down at the end of the bed. 

“Don’t move yet,” he said softly and you did. You could feel his cum dripping out of you and down your legs, knowing that was exactly what he wanted to see. “You look so good filled with me,” he admitted, his hands running up and down the backs of your thighs as he simply watched, in awe of you. 

You could practically feel it in the air that he was satiated and much calmer now. At least for tonight.