#dark souls x reader

[sleepymaven]

Elden Ring/Dark Souls and the Sheer Lack of Fanfics. (A Slight Rant and Ramble.)

Alright, we need to talk, Elden Ring and Dark Souls Fandoms...

There are hundreds of thousands of you out there who love these games... So many, in fact, that they are both some of the most popular game franchises ever made...

So, pray tell, why is there such an atrocious lack of... fanfics!?

Come on, man! I. Want. More. Fanfiction!!

Give me a coffee shop au where Miquella takes Malenia to his favorite coffee shop and introduces her to the cute batista.

Give me a crossover ship between Messmer and Gwyndolin where they help eachother through their familial issues and trauma.

Give me a hurt/no comfort between Radagon and Rennala showing how the divorce went.

Give me an actor au where it shows the behind the scenes and/or bloopers for the character messing up or forgetting their lines.

Give me a Gwyndolin x Chosen Undead!reader with extra fluff and a side of gentle smut.

Give me Rennala x Carian Knight!reader where you help take care of her while she's in the library.

Give me a modern crossover au where Malenia is dating Gwynevere and going through the motions of being a cute, domestic couple before ending it with them being wife and wife and officially married. (I desperately want to see this one, I'm BEGGING.)

Give me a crack fic where Gwyndolin takes his snakes to the vet.

Give me a canon divergence au where you save Godwyn from being assassinated.

Give me Godwyn x Consort!reader where you and him are married.

Give me modern au Godwyn where he's a himbo who forgot his wallet at home to pay for his singular candy bar.

Give me a Godwyn x Tarnished!reader were you get to peg him. (I would also read this one, btw...)

Give me Godwyn with a breeding kink.

You know what...

Just give me any Godwyn fanfics!

Don't be shy people, make some more!

Make me some fanfiction or else I will ascend to godhood and place an eternal curse upon thee! 😡

..please? 🙏

Pretty please with a cherry on top..?

Just give me more Godwyn, please! 😭

(More Gwyndolin would also be IMMENSELY appreciated.)

[linkwho1]

you’re telling me dark souls a VERY famous game BARELY has any fanfics..?? This is absolute insanity I did not simp for men in armor to only watch them from afar YOU NEED TO START WORKING THOSE IN THE FANDOM

[knihil]

𝔅𝔯𝔬𝔨𝔢𝔫 𝔟𝔶 𝔞 ℭ𝔞𝔭𝔯𝔞 𝔇𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

༒︎ CONTENT WARNING ༒︎ : noncon, grimdark world, physical violence

Tags: sub fem!reader, dom!capra demon, monster fucking, monster cock, deflowerment, penetration through clothes, slapping, mindbreak, stomach bulge, folded like a pretzel, breeding, creampie, pinned down, size difference, breast play

Two demons felled, a pair of gargoyles slain, and one Bell of Awakening rung. You never expected to make it this far on your journey, to have the makings of such an unlikely heroine. Nor did you expect for confidence to be the end of you...

Escaping the undead asylum and killing the stray demon that guarded its exit had proved to be far simpler than expected. Just the same, besting the Taurus demon on the bridge and felling the two gargoyles that stood guard over the first Bell of Awakening were tasks that were insurmountable only in your imagination. Time was beginning to prove that, in all truth, that knight from Astora who'd freed you from your cell was speaking the truth. You very well might be the Chosen Undead.

But before your fate is to be revealed, you still have one last bell to ring, one found opposite of the first. According to the words spoken to you by the crestfallen knight during your stay at Firelink Shrine, the second bell should be down, far, far below. If his dispassionate guidance is to be trusted, then the path you're set upon will culminate at the base of Blighttown. Steeling yourself for what's to come, you stand from the bonfire of the parish, abandoning the quaint respite it offered you, and make your way towards the lower section of the undead burg. Your thoughts wander to possibilities of what trials might lie in wait for you past the depths, what the path to a lost and sunless civilization might be like.

Your armored footsteps against the stone beneath are the only things that accompany your silent journey. Their staccato rhytm offers just enough white noise for you to lose yourself within your mind, your legs carrying your absentminded body past the steps that lead lower and lower. Hollows, deamons, gargoyles... You've slain all of these monstrosities with more finesse than you thought was within your abilities and while each encounter has proven to be more challenging than the last, you've never once failed to persevere towards victory.

It's almost as if some form of divine intervention is guiding you, as if the threads of fate themselves are in your favor. The thought that everything might be a stroke of luck, a string of events chained together by nothing more than mere causality enters your mind for a moment. They don't linger for long, however. Heroes are often found in the most unlikely of places, no? Who's to say you're not the one who'll manage to restore light to the darkening world of Lordran-

Clumsily, you feel yourself bump into something firm yet cloudy in texture. It snaps you from your thoughts and as you shake your head, returning to reality, you're faced by an imposing door of fog. The familiar sight proves to be confusing at first, prompting a quick turn on your heels to survey the area behind. As your eyes scan the town of the lower burg, you realize just how profoundly nestled you were within your thoughts. So much so, that it's only now that you realize you walked the entire way to the lower burg without even feeling it.

As your surprise fades, it becomes far easier to notice the dilapidated state of things in this part of the settlement. Houses have been reduced to their base structures, the wooden beams that once held the walls now as readily apparent as the bones on a malnourished dog. Speaking of which, the rotten remains of animals and people lie slumped over the rim of a well in the center of town. More corpses adorn the surrounding walls, and the stench that permeates the surrounding air serves as the final touch to complete the macabre sight.

Whatever caused this must lie beyond the fog...

For a split moment, you feel the claws of fear begin to scratch at your heart. However, they retract as soon as they tease to sink in. You recall your previous achievements and with renewed vigor, step through the murky veil that separates you from the next demon you'll slay.

Immediately, you're met by its four glowing red eyes. They examine your shorter frame from above, scanning over your form as the creature's veiny hands fist around the hilt of the two oversized cleavers it wields. He's almost entirely bare, clad in nothing more than a loincloth that's been dirtied with stains which have no doubt come from his previous victims. The rest of his muscled physique is left entirely unclothed, the verdigris skin that's stretched taught around its musculature accented by nothing more than bulging veins and a layer of grime. A huff escapes from the goat-like skull the hellspawn wears for a head and your grip instinctively tightens around your own blade.

The demon is imposing. Everything about it hints at something primal, suggesting that its true nature must be far more animal than anything you've faced thus far. Still, you find yourself surprisingly unafraid. Even as the ten foot tall butcher hunches over in preparation to leap at you, confidence is the only thing you feel. And, as the hint of a smirk begins to tug at the corner of your mouth, you realize that you're not afraid.

You are ready.

Channeling the vigor bestowed upon you by your faith in the Prophecy of the Chosen Undead, you leap forward into battle. The hellspawn matches your temper and unleashes a slash with its two cleavers, attempting to split you in two from shoulder to waist. Instinctively, you dodge the attack by a narrow margin, hoping that it will grant you enough time to deliver a riposte.

It's a maneuver that you immediately realize won't work on this fiend. His swings carry such force that the air he cleaves through sends ripples that buffet and unbalance you. You stumble backwards for a moment before regaining your footing and propping the point of your sword forward from a middle guard, hoping to keep the creature at bay as he readies his next move. Two symmetrical swings from either side, a scissor like motion that aims to sever your head clean off your shoulders. The only thing you can think of doing is to throw yourself onto the dirt beneath.

Your sloppily roll to avoid his killing blow and use the momentum to swiftly rise and turn on your heel to face him. As your vision spins around, you find that he's already closed the distance, both of his cleavers raised skyward. Your eyes widen and your heart skips a beat as the sun itself is eclipsed by his towering presence. Almost paralyzed by fear, you shakily raise the flat of your blade in hopes of producing a block or a parry, anything that might save you from certain death.

Its cleavers, powered by the coiling muscles in the demon's arms drop all the way down and through your defenses. Your sword shatters along with your courage. The jagged tip of its weapons crack your breastplate in two, the force of the impact knocking the stability out of your legs. They buckle under the weight of your defeat and your eyes cast a thousand yard glance onto the fragments of steel that lay on the ground.

Before you're even afforded a moment to contemplate your defeat, to process the promise of death that looms over you, you're lifted onto the air. The shock frees you from your trance as the demon hoists you up by the back of your head. "Unhand me! Let go, demon!" You pair your words with a series of kicks and punches aimed at the butcher's torso, but they amount to nothing. You realize now why the creature is so comfortable with wearing nothing in the way of armor.

Even if you had managed to land a strike, it's almost certain that it would have barely scratched the thick hide of its muscles. You feel the familiar claws of fear sink fully into your heart as your pleading eyes lock onto his. They're nothing more than glowing orbs of primal instinct. You've never seen hellfire before, but you're sure that it must glow with the same intensity as this beast's gaze. Your silent pleas for mercy go unanswered as the creature slams you into the ground.

Your body seizes up in terror, your hands clasping around the thick forearm that pins you down. Its eyes roam over you once more and you begin to wonder why it hasn't yet killed you. It's almost as if it is toying with you, waiting for the perfect moment to-

Your heart sinks as you realize where his eyes are directed. The crack in your armor has left one of your breasts exposed to him, the supple flesh peeking through the metal like treasure through a hidden chest. Both of you freeze for a moment. Time seems to stand still as panic begins to take you over, your mind rationalizing the very real possibility that this thing might actually want your body.

The demon's response comes only in the form of his loincloth parting like a curtain to reveal his arousal. Its meat is the most imposing thing you've ever seen. A cock the same length as your forearm, colored the same sickly greyish-hue as the rest of the creature, and decorated with rippling veins that pulse in tandem with the rest of the shaft they coil around. "No... Stop, I-"

You're not even allowed to finish your pathetic plea as the demon's hands clench around the seams of the crack in your armor. You could swear he is barely exerting any force as he finishes splitting sway the obsolete remains of your cuirass. A series of hungry huffs escape from the demon as his calloused mitts palm your now exposed flesh.

You're frozen by the overwhelming feeling of being toyed with by something so much stronger than you, so invincible. Shivers of fear travel down your spine as its cracked fingernails chip against your hardened nipples, grazing and leaving red trails against the rest of your flesh. Your breath comes as a series of ragged and shallow inhales and exhales, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Your eyes, meanwhile, remain locked onto his cock.

It stands proudly over your entire midsection as the creature continues to explore your tits. It's a childish hope, the thought that you might be able to keep its hungry sex away if you simply stare at it long enough. But that hope is swiftly shattered as his hands clasp around your waist and suddenly, both of your hips are in line.

Your heart races against your chest, beating against the inside of your ribcage as you tremble in fear of what's to come. You shake your head, a feeble attempt to deny the reality of what's about to occur as the head of his cock touches your still clothed sex. "Stop! Don't you dare- MMPH!"

Your wail is muffled by his hand, the demon's calloused palm caressed by your breath as he impales you with a single thrust. The seams of your pants part under the force of his hips, and your walls follow suit. You're stretched impossibly to accommodate the butcher's cock. A primal huff erupts from him, delight flowering in his chest as his brutish cock defiles your once virgin hole. Meanwhile, you writhe in a mixture of pain, shock and... Pleasure?

You're not even afforded a moment to process the conflicting emotions as the beast begins to unsheathe its phallic sword from your core. You attempt to draw a breath of relief as you find yourself being emptied, only to taste the musk from his palm. Panic takes hold of your once courageous heart, your nostrils flaring as you writhe and struggle.

The only reward your thrashing yields is the release of your mouth, followed by a firm smack across your face. It's a dizzying strike, one that leaves your vision blurry and halts your feeble attempts at resistance. Dazed, you lie limp on the ground, barely registering the feeling of the demon's meaty hands wrapping themselves around your ankles. Your bones creak as your legs are craned all the way back until your ankles are resting by your head.

You barely feel the strain of your muscles and tendons being stretched past limits you never even dared to scratch the surface of. Your mind is a fog and the only thing that breaks you free from it is the feeling of his cock slamming back into your vulnerable hole. A bellowing roar erupts from the creature as he bottoms out within you, the thrust so forceful that it knocks the wind out of your lungs.

It's awful.

No, not the degradation or the feeling of being rendered helpless so completely. It's not even the searing pain of being skewered by such a massive length that it makes you sure your stomach is bulging. It's the fact that being ruined from the inside out by this thing feels...

Good.

As the demonic wall of muscle proceeds to jackhammer his cock into your soaking wet cunt, a cry of submission drips from your now parted lips. It's a pitiful thing, a sound so indecisive that it straddles the line of both a sob and a whimper. The creature seems to respond in full, growling possessively as it locks eyes with you.

Though words are beyond its capabilities, speech isn't necessary for it to communicate its thoughts. The mixture of his crimson gaze along with every plunge of his hips tells you everything you need to know. You belong to it now. The thought of being claimed reverberates throughout your entire being, echoing around within your skull as the demon marks you from the inside out.

With every wet slap that emanates from each meeting of your hips, every whorish moan that escapes from your widening mouth, you sink ever downward into a spiral of lust driven lunacy. The feeling of your insides molding around the brute's hot cock, your cunt clenching around every vein and ridge of his breeding pole; it's enough to drive you mad. How could such a thing exist? And how is it even possible that your body is accepting, let alone enjoying the feeling of being so thoroughly defiled?

It doesn't matter in the end, not when you feel his massive cock begin to twitch and throb within you. "A-are you going t-to...?" That's all you manage to squeak out before he answers you with one final thrust. It's searing hot. Not even the warmth of Estus can compare to the primal heat of the creature's cum. It's thick and Gods, there is so, so much-

"Ghhh-AaaAaaaAAAA!"

A scream rips from your throat as you cum from the feeling of being used as nothing more than a breeding tool. The feeling of being filled by cock, by cum, the feeling of being pinned and slapped and fucked and used within an inch of your life...It proves to be too much.

Your orgasm takes you, sending tremors and jolts across your well-used form as you spray your pleasure on the demon's cock. You let go completely. Your toes clench, your body trembles and your eyes roll back into your skull until your vision is swallowed by a darkness that clouds your senses.

You go limp as small jolts course throughout your broken form, timid reminders that you're still alive, though only barely. Everything begins to numb, the veil of unconsciousness suffocating you. What will become of you now? Will the creature dispose of you? Will you become a slave to its needs? As the last whispers of wakefulness leave you, only one thing becomes certain.

You were never meant to be the Chosen Undead.

[multifandomhellhole]

What was the gwyndolin fanfiction you lost?? I know a few sites to try and find old fanfictions :v

Uh so like i said it was NSFW so bare with me here but I'll try and summarize it

So essentially reader is a knight devoted to Gwyndolin and they slowly win over his favor through time of battles in which at some point they are told to go bathe in a healing bath to clean up their wounds and remove fatigue. In This bath they start m*sturbating and obviously gwyndolin can read minds so he basically shows up. Instead of being killed gwyndolin does a one time thing of helping us with his snakes turned into tentacles. After he helps us then it's back to normal but for a whole week that's all we can think about in the fic. Literally that's all I got for memory 😭😭 BIT IT WAS SUPER CHARACTER ACCURATE

[crypt1da]

Might write some Dark Souls or Elden Ring fics. Like seriously, for big fandoms like these they lack 'x readers'!

I love Solaire, my poor sun boy

[lakeviewkitsune]

Requests are Open! (edited forgot some info)

Rules: I'm usually chill about most stuff, although if I don't think I can write it or that it won't be good, then I'm sorry, but I will reject it.

I won't be able to talk about or mention politics here and won't be interested.

For now, I am not accepting nsfw, but I might at a later date, I don't mind slightly nsfw stuff though.

I will only write for the girls of the series listed below, although exceptions will be listed at a later date. I also only write from a g/n viewpoint or a male viewpoint. I don't think that I can write from a female perspective.

I do write yandere content

You can also ask off-topic stuff, I don't mind talking about other stuff.

Overall just don't be an ass or vague when asking stuff. I will ask for clarification if something is too vague or hard to understand.

The character limit for requests is three and please specify if request is headcanons

Send in stuff for the fandoms listed. I will work on a proper pinned/master post that will list more fandoms and info. Anyways send in stuff for.

Inbox: 13(5/21/25)

Masterlist

Under Night In-Birth

Yume nikki

Team rwby

Genshin (Up till Fontaine, I need to catch up)

Ghost of tsushima (Yuna and other women, I will write for Jin)

Nier automata (All characters)

Ena from joel g (ena only)

Dark souls 3 and 1 (Need to finish 2) also bloodborne.

Persona 4/p4 arena and persona 5 (need to finish 3)

Smt demons/waifus

Touhou (All women)

Ddlc

Also fire emblem three houses, engage and og warriors. and fates. (All characters)

Cheryl Mason(SH3)

[junowritings]

Masterlist ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

♡Match-ups

Twisted wonderland

♡Malleus being MC's bridesmaid for her wedding

♡Ruggie with Male!MC affected by love potion after attempted poisoning gone wrong

♡Jamil and Kalim react to MC/Yuu overblotting

♡Magical girl MC (chap 1-4 reactions)

♡Amnesiac MC/Yuu with no memory of their life before NRC (chap 1-4) + Pomefiore, Ignihyde & Diasomnia

♡Dorm leader's seeing MC/Yuu's plushie collection

♡Neige meeting MC/Yuu at VDC

♡Riddle, Floyd, Leona + Idia finding MC dancing and singing to a spanish love song

♡Dorm leaders being carried princess style

♡Dorm leaders having a crush on shy serious reader who's lively when alone or with people they trust

♡Past Vigilante!MC

♡KalimXreader - carpet ride drabble

♡AceXreader - sleepy cuddler drabble

♡MC protecting them in a fight - Ruggie+Azul+Deuce Riddle+Vil+Lilia Leona+Jamil

♡Floyd with crush who can't tell Platonic from Romantic

Baldur's Gate 3

♡Haarlep, Dammon, Rolan + Zevlor with a crush who can't tell Platonic from Romantic

♡ Romanced Astarion with goody-goody Tav who steals the potion from Araj for him

♡ Astarion, Gale, Halsin + Rolan with Tav transforming into a dragon to save them from death (Tav had no idea)

♡Raphael who is fond of a mortal that someone else claims is 'theirs'

♡Bg3 companions meeting Tav's brother

Soulsborne series

♡Solaire relationship hcs

Fictif series

♡Nicky fluff drabble

♡Sergio with a hyperactive MC

[wintrsss]

.ೃ࿐ INTRODUCTION

this is a redo my rules/ intro, so if this seems similar, that's why. lots has changed so feel free to reread. ^^

Helloo, I’m wintrsss, and welcome to my blog! I’ll be writing my own little ideas/scenarios for the character’s below, but if you’d like to personally request something, go ahead and request it through my ask box! (Requests are also really appreciated.)

Constructive criticism is much obliged! Let me know if there’s anything I can improve on and I’ll try my hardest to do so!

If at any time something I make contains spoilers, I will try to mark it as such.

I tend to get busy for random periods of time, so please understand.

.ೃ࿐ REQUEST GUIDELINES

what's stated below can be subject to change. if you have any questions, let me know!

(TMTL: too many to list. I'll probably accept most characters requested, if it's not an absurd amount, but don't be surprised if I don't write for someone!)

(Inc. dlc: includes characters in the DLC(s) of the game. Npc's, bosses, etc)

(+: this means that the person mentioned before and after this sign go hand in hand; character x reader x character)

I CURRENTLY WRITE FOR— death stranding (sam p. bridges, higgs monaghan, cliff unger), dark souls 1-3 (TMTL, Inc. dlc), elden ring (TMTL, Inc. dlc), bloodborne (TMTL, Inc. dlc), lies of p (pinocchio, alidoro, romeo), demons souls (ostrava, yurt, garl vinland + maiden astraea), sekiro: shadows die twice (wolf, genichiro, isshin, emma, owl), witch hat atelier (qifrey, olruggio, easthies, beldaruit, utowin, hieheart)

I WILL ACCEPT— headcanons, fluff, yandere, poly.

I WONT ACCEPT— character x character, character x oc, minor x adult, full-on fics, mental illnesses/ disorders towards the reader (I don’t have much knowledge on this topic and don’t want to write them wrong and offend anyone!), any vague requests like (can you do [character] x reader hcs?) so please be specific on what you want!

.ೃ࿐ MASTERLISTS

—death stranding

[cryptidpvppy]

no one gets it but... he was my childhood crush and theres no content for him. NONE.

[lxvvie]

And last but not least, Yuria, please? No rush on any of these!

headcanon about a sexcapade they may have had

Mm. Let's just say that, like her sister, she hasn't been privy to a memorable experience.

write about how they flirt (if they even do)

Yuria is not much of a flirter, though if you count submissiveness as flirting, then... 👀

what turns them on?

Power. Not for power's sake, but the representation of her beliefs, best reflected in the Ashen One, spurs her attraction.

what kind of kisser are they?

If she were to kiss, it is light and teasing. Demure? Fleeting, perhaps?

any other random nsfw headcanon that comes to mind.

Oh, without a doubt, Yuria is a voyeur.

[speed-world]

Hey, I got this idea from watching some Dark Souls lore videos, so can I request a HC of beast cookies being beaten by a chosen Undead reader.

Plot: when the Beast cookies went on a rampage The Witches knew they had to stop them but the cookie were too powerful to do so so they decided to work together to bake a new cookie, a cookie that can weaken them to a point that they can be in prison, a cookie that can come back from the dead as much as possible until the deed is done, they call them the Chosen Undead Cookie

Sworn Purpose

The Five Beasts. The primordial Cookies created by the Witches as emissaries of the Godly Creators; that fell from grace due to their Absolute power corrupting them completely. The Witches couldn’t bear to see their creations promised as saviors turned apostles of evil, and so they punished the Beasts by sealing them away in Beast-Yeast. At least…that was what should have happened.

The Beasts rebelled, refusing to go quiet into the night. They broke free from their shackles and dominated the lands of Beast-Yeast without challenge. The Witches refused to give up however, and would go deeply into a period of heavy trials and error in baking something …greater. They combined their magic to create a Cookie that could complete the task they failed too. A Cookie that would never rest until they sealed these Beasts, even if the Cookie was crumbled. A Cookie that will rise and rise again, as if freshly baked out of the oven, to complete their assigned life purpose. As the Witches spent numerous days and nights creating this Cookie, they’d mix so many flavors into to them that the Cookie was ultimately nameless to the Witches. When finally completed, passerby Cookies knew them only by a couple of names: Y/N Cookie, or their more known, and more appropriate moniker…Chosen Undead Cookie.

It was never easy completing your task, but you never once questioned it or the Witches. They told you all the features and names of the Beasts, that you must do whatever it takes to seal them away, and you followed as such.

During your first attempt, you could barely make a move against a jester before being crumbled in a mess of crumbs and jam. The last thing you heard was the jester laughing before you reawakened in a different location.

One of the many blessings you had received from the Witches was that you could communicate with and hear them. You could hear some the Witches applaud you for your efforts, and others express their apologies for what you must suffer through. It didn’t faze you though, you had a God-given purpose, and you’d curse at yourself if you never finished it. Maybe one day…you could live a fairly normal life, but it won’t happen until your job is done.

“Oh~? Pfffttt AHAHAHAHAHA~~!! Oh this is priceless, you’re still kicking huh? I mean, what attempt is this, number….59? 100? Isn’t this tiring to you buddy~?”

“Silence, jester. I am not tired, not one bit. I have been assigned this duty by the Witches, and I refuse to stop until you Beasts are sealed away…”

You stared at him with the same neutral yet angry expression that you almost always have. He upsets you, just as the other Beasts. And, like him, they will be sealed by your hand sooner or later.

“Really now…? How many times have you said that? And yet the result is still the same! I’ll give you credit though, you’re getting closer each time!! But all that means is that I’m improving myself to make sure you continue to be the failure you are!!”

“Am I the failure, Shadow Milk Cookie? You were meant to be a savior, a hero to all Cookiekind until the end of days, but you failed at your duty. Don’t tell me, are you jealous that I’m favored and know how to follow simple instruction? Does it upset you that I’m succeeding in the role you failed to fulfill?”

“Tch…didja learn to talk all smart while you were in between the states of dying and living? Those Witches can BURN IN THE OVEN, AND YOU’LL JOIN THEM YOU MISERABLE PUPPET!!!”

“….I’m assuming you’re done wasting your breath away now? I’m glad you’ll be the first I seal, your voice annoys me…”

You readied yourself again for the umpteenth time, and stared holes into Shadow Milk Cookie. “You are the miserable one here, jester…” You muttered to yourself, before clashing with the jester once more.

————————————————————————

The cold steps of the Ivory Pagoda are all too familiar for you now. The aroma of the incense, the reflective gold of the tiles, all of it was practically burned in your memory as you approached the Master of the Ivory Pagoda yet again. Of course, you couldn’t meet the Master without seeing the guardian of Ivory Pagoda as well.

“Oh, Master, look who’s back again~! You must really enjoy witnessing the truth that my Master has to show the world! At this point, you’re the most frequent visitor here to the pagoda, maybe you’d want to stay here for the rest of your life~? It’s not like your immortality is doing you any favors being the Witches’s pawn~…”

You ignored the mocking comments of Cloud Haetae Cookie. They’re not what you’re here for anyways, so they can berate you all they want, it won’t take your attention away from your mission. You walked past the haetae and stared up at the Beast, who didn’t even open her eyes to you.

“One day, you will come to see how pointless your mission truly is. Again and again, you challenge my truth and power, and again and again, you fail to understand that you’ll never succeed…”

“That is where your arrogance has mislead you, Mystic Flour Cookie. You insist on yourself so much that you fail to grasp the reality around you. More and more, I grow resistant to your power, and I keep parts of my flavor in spite of being turned to flour. One day, you will come to realize that the madness you speak of will never be heard as you’ll spend your days sealed away as you deserve.”

Mystic Flour Cookie doesn’t bother responding to you. She only waves her hand, uttering the phrase you’ve heard numerous times now: “Return to Flour…”. Your words were true: you were still maintaining your flavor and everything else about you, and only small crumbs were being taken away, albeit incredibly slowly. Then you lounged at her, slashing at her with your blade….and you cut her. Jam leaked out of her thigh from the gash you made. Although your magic and control over the chains and Witch’s fork specialized for sealing the Beasts weren’t strong enough yet, you were making fast progress.

Cloud Haetae Cookie was shocked, but Mystic Flour appeared unfazed as usual. But one thing was abundantly clear, you were improving. Even if you didn’t seal her during this time, you would overcome her powers and seal her away, even if you were crumbled to flour in the process. Mystic Flour will be sealed, just like the other Beasts, and you’ll rise and rise again until your deed is done and all of the Beasts are sealed away.

————————————————————————

Hellish blazing embers and the ruins of forests are the most recognizable sight you know. Whenever you hear the fires crackling, you know that you’re close to Burning Spice Cookie. Burning Spice stares daggers into you just as you stare a hole back.

“You again, eh? How many times are we going to do the same song and dance until you’ve crumbled for good? Those damned Witches must have spent days, perhaps weeks trying to perfect a herald to defeat us, and your failure of an existence is all they have to show for their efforts. It would be funny, if it weren’t so sad and true…”

“I’ll keep coming back as many times as needed until you—“

“Yeah yeah, until us Beasts are sealed away. You’re a broken record at this point, and it’s really beginning to annoy the Hell out of me…. Then again, you do have your uses for being a toy, free for me to play with and break whenever I feel like it. So c’mon, let’s not waste words and entertain me, Chosen fool~…”

You smirked at Burning Spice; at least you two could agree on something, that being words are useless at this point. You steeled yourself and gripped your sword tightly, and Burning Spice did the same with that giant axe in hand. All you need to do is seal away Burning Spice, and even if you crumbled in the process, it will be done.

————————————————————————

The skies were an incredibly dark shade of pink, and you’ve slowly grown to hate it when the skies were like this. Mainly because you knew who it was that was around, and Witches did Eternal Sugar Cookie, wielding the power of Sloth, utterly piss you off.

All Eternal Sugar did was yawn on top of the cloud she rested on, and looked at you haphazardly with her hand resting on her cheek*

*Yaaaaaaawwwwnn* “Ahh, who’re you again? You always come here for ah…some mission from the Witch’s I think? Can’t you bother anyone else with your nonsense, I have a lot of better things to do than waste my precious energy on you agaaaaiinn…”

The tone in Eternal Sugar’s voice and manner is what really bothered you the most. Although it was fitting of the Sloth power she held, she just couldn’t care less about you or whatever inhumane actions she did to others. Granted, you weren’t much for words yourself, the most you talk is when dealing with the annoyance is Shadow Milk Cookie, so at least with Eternal Sugar you can get right to the point without any hesitation.

“At least you know what I’m here for, Beast…I’ll gladly make sure you’ve suffered in the last moments of your recreation…”

“Mhmmm, sure thing. Just hurry up and crumble already so you can bother someone else when you resurrect, please~….

Without waiting anymore, you charged at the lackadaisical Beast. Thankfully, the more you do this the more stronger and better you’re getting. Because the sooner you seal away Eternal Sugar, the better. Not just for the Witch’s and Cookiekind, but for the sake of your own mind.

————————————————————————

The eerie silence of the area you stepped into would be enough to scare any being beyond belief. It was dark, quiet, perfectly becoming the scene any scared children would have when fearing the dark. Only this was no dream, is was the brutal reality of a vicious Beast that you could never seem to get an upper hand against.

Silent Salt Cookie was just standing there, sword in hand as always. Out of all the Beasts, Silent Salt doesn’t do anything else now except wait for you. Silent Salt knows of your ability to keep coming back to life after dying and knew sooner or later you’d be back.

The quietness from you and Silent Salt was loud and easy to understand. You weren’t much for words yourself, no need to start now with a quiet Cookie. You both knew each other well enough, understanding the other’s goal in mind as you both nodded and readied your swords yet again. The area soon became loud with the sounds of clashing swords in a struggle of life and death.

Until your mission is fulfilled, until the Beasts are sealed away and no longer a threat to Cookiekind, then you will be raised from the dead. Retaining your mixture of flavors, knowledge and power, and using all of them against the foul Beasts that defiled their roles as promised saviors. Until the deed is done…

[yandere-wishes]

༺ 𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝒹𝑜 𝒮𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓃𝒶 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐵𝓇𝓊𝒸𝑒 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒟𝒶𝓂𝒾𝒶𝓃'𝓈 𝒸𝓇𝓊𝓈𝒽 𝑜𝓃 𝒞𝒶𝓇𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁? ༻

ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎

The problem with bats is that they tend to solely rely on their instincts, their carvings. They tend to forget their surroundings, that other creatures exist as much as they do.

Selina rings her arms around your frame pushing you closer, nose nuzzling your ear and cheek. Her hug only loosens when she hears the bat speak his echolocation ringing clearly through her ears.

"Daimian brought her home last, he's...he has a crush, I think."

Wasn't there some sort of new bat-eating fungus discovered in the north?

For a moment she debates asking Oswald to export in a batch or two.

"It's inevitable," Selina says, laying a bowl of food at the foot of the counter for the cats. Exhaustion seeps through her words, she speaks from experience, experience too deep to voice. "Bats are tenacious rodents, and robins are hard to kill. Mix that with demons blood and I'd say we're just about doomed." Your eyes stare up at her, even sideways, and anxious she's gorgeous. You'd always dreamed you'd grow up to be her. Inherit the claws and whip and lust for the endless shimmer.

But you're starting to think you'll never make it to that.

Not with the bird, who shows affection by breaking bones and spilling blood.

Selina doesn't like it, not fully, not utterly. She doesn't trust the boy wonder, doesn't trust a future she can not see. The boy is young and overbearing, he'll only end up trapping you within a glittering cage. Domesticating the girl he loves, satiating her by handing her pearls and diamonds and gold. He won't let her take, won't let her bleed for own life. She's seen one too many men like that, she's escaped every one of them. The bat may believe in freedom but his heir does not. And after all this time, all these years she refuses to let your sovereignty be stripped of you.

Be silent thy traitorous voices screaming sanguinity inside her wry head.

Voices that utter such affirmations, that say this is destiny, that this too must happen. Who safer than the son of the bat, the blood son at that? Freaks stick to freaks, masks, and capes, and cowls. Selina would never trust a normal man to treat you the way you deserve...

But she knows a Wayne never could either...

Selina watches as the Boy Wonder's kick nests in between your ribs. He wasted no time, swinging straight for you. Your body tumbles back, finally gaining enough momentum to filp landing on your feet, knees bent ready to pounce. Your claws tear through the flesh of his cheek, scrapping up the skin, freeing the red letting it mar the concrete. But the bird only slithers in closer, pecking your lips before, slamming his head into yours. Selina's eyes land on the bat, the darkness at the ledge, he stands immobile, as if actually watching a cat and bird fight, as if thinking this is nothing more than a cartoon playing at the drive-through theater.

She extends her whip, lashing it through the air letting the leather coil around Damian before pulling him away. The demon boy shrieks in anger, he kicks, and writhes vying for freedom. You land behind your mentor, hiding behind her. For the first time ever Selina is almost sorry her suit is so tight, sorry she can't provide more shelter.

"Can you please keep this one a leash, bats? It's starting to annoy my kitten."

Batman doesn't say anything, he only cuts away the rope and drags his son away.

"Aren't bats just rodents?" You ask arms crossed as you finally crawl out of your temporary sanctuary.

"Yes, why?" It takes Selina another moment before she finally tears her eyes away from the disappearing silhouettes in the skyline.

"So why haven't we just killed them?"

It's only back in the apartment that both you and Selina realize he took your stolen jewels too.

Selina curses she really liked that new necklace.

This could all be a cruel joke, Bruce thinks as he watches Damian sulking on his bed, arms crossed. Robin suit still on.

After all, what's funnier than the son you unknowingly sired with your ex-lover falling so madly in love with the adopted daughter of your complex midnight affair, who you may or may not be madly in love with...

Bruce can't think of one,

He doesn't even think Joker could come up with anything better.

Or worst.

He's too tired to fully tell.

"Hey, Bruce?" Tim asks, poking him with the sharp end of a frame. "Can you hand him this when he's done brooding? I'd go in but I need my bones intact for the next few days." Bruce sighs, taking the frame from Tim and inspecting it with worry. Sure enough, it's a picture of you crouching in an ally, stalking some prey or another.

He can't help but think his sons are progressively getting worse.

Regardless Bruce leaves the frame in Damian's room.

When he closes the door a little pride bubbles in his chest.

Bruce knows that freaks stick to freaks.

Masks, and capes, and cowls.

Who better to understand you than another who wears your endeavors?

Who can love an anomaly if not for another anomaly?

Bruce leaves, missing how the young heir, gently kisses your photo.

Running his hands across your photo, muttering a silent, simple 'I love you'.

Damian pricks his finger on his tooth.

Drawing a bloody heart around your face.

"You'll be mine my love" he promises.

He swears it on his cape and cowl.

He swears it on his lineage.

Tumblr keeps eating my asks when I try to answer 😭😭

But anyway heyy Anon, so to answer your question:

Selina is torn because she wants you to be free and live the life you want. This includes picking who you fall in love with and how the two of you spend your lives together. She finds Damian's obsession annoying, if not dangerous. She knows he'll try to "domesticate" you, to make you into nothing more than his doll. And really she just wants to buy you as much time as possible to be free. However, she also knows, deep down, that the only person who can really understand you is another "freak" whether a rogue or a hero. Someone who knows what it's like to wear a second skin. She just really wants you to pick who that "freak" is.

Bruce on the other hand is simultaneously proud and amused. A part of him really really understands why Damian would fall in love with Catgirl. It just goes to show how similar Damian is to him. A chip off the old block if you will. He also shares both Damian's perspective of seeing this all as legacy, as passing on the torch, feeling like in a way Damian is really ready to step in as the next Batman if need be. He however also shares Selina's perspective of "freaks" being with "freaks", really approving of his son falling for someone with obsessions and desires, someone twisted like they are.

[multifandomhellhole]

Hi! I found the Gwyndolin/reader bath fic you lost! It's part of this compilation!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28703337/chapters/71902704

EEEEEEE THANK YOU!! OMG I didn't think someone would actually hunt it down for me 😭 you are a soldier of the highest honor lmfao

This is also tagged for any of you that were also intrigued by the Gwyndolin fic since I know my perv audience

[potatoplace]

OMGG can you please do a dark High king and queen🩵💜 that discover reader is their mate 🤭

(Un)Lucky Soul

Dark!Feysand x Reader

Notes: non-consensual bond acceptance (you don't know that's what's gonna happen 🤷‍♀️)

🩵💜 Feysand 🤍 Reader 🖤 Dark Fic 💘 Mates

Notes: eeee I love High King and Queen Feysand, they can rule the whole world idc just let them be sexy n powerful (my brain is not very coherent today lol) I hope you guys like it! 🫶 Request Game | Masterlist

18+ only pls

🩵💜🤍💜🩵

"You- come forward," a rich voice commanded, and the power laced into the words could have only come from one male - your High King.

Your head snapped to look at him, sitting at the far end of the room in a throne, your High Queen seated in her matching one, wanting to see who they had called forth.

And to your utter surprise, their eyes were on you, violet and blue searing into your skin.

Hands pushed you gently from behind, your head whipping to see who had offered you up - your mother and father, a hint of fear in their eyes but mostly- mostly pride.

Every so often they did this, choosing a soul from the crowd of their subjects to join them for the night. And apparently... tonight you had been chosen.

Your feet managed to carry you across the throne room, heart in your throat as all eyes stayed glued to you, everyone curious as to what would become of you.

You regretted being one of them, before tonight.

Stopping at the edge of the dias their thrones rested upon, you kept your eyes trained at their feet, waiting for their demand.

"Look up, dear," your High Queen said, and your eyes snapped to hers instinctively. Her blue eyes shined warmly, an inviting smile on her lips. "What is your name, darling?"

"Y/N, my Queen," you answered, cursteying as elegantly as you could.

"Come here, Y/N," Feyre said, patting her lap twice, a demand you would be foolish to refuse. You stepped onto the dias and up to her throne, your eyes darting nervously between her and your King as you approached them. Her lap was warm through the sheer silk of her dress, her bare arms turning you so your legs dangled onto her mate, heels landing in his lap.

They were even more stunning close up, impossibly beautiful, but it was Feyre who held your attention, her warm eyes and full pink lips so difficult to look away from. When you did, you'd inevitably be drawn back in by a breath or a shift of her head. And their scents - a delicious combination of lilac and pears, citrus and sea that had your head feeling fuzzy, unable to keep your thoughts straight for more than a few seconds at a time.

This was far different from what they normally did - usually their plaything of the evening would sit at their feet, holding their wine glasses until they decided to retire for the night, taking the unlucky soul with them.

"Mm, but you're not any little soul," Feyre whispered in your ear, cheeks flushing when you remembered they could hear your every thought.

Your High King snapped his fingers, and a servant brought over a tray of chocolate dipped fruits.

"Rhys," he said authoritatively as he picked up a raspberry, holding it to your lips. "Open, but don't bite," Rhys instructed you, placing the sweetened fruit on your tongue, letting the pad of his thumb drag across your bottom lip. "Now, do the same for both of us, darling."

You nodded nervously, plucking a piece of chocolate covered pineapple from the platter and placing it on Rhys's tongue, his lips wrapping around your fingers. Heat rushed to your core as you pulled your hand away, grabbing a small strawberry next. Your eyes turned to Feyre, part of you delighted to see her lips already parted, pink tongue sticking out from between them. The berry was placed on her tongue, her painted lips also closing around your fingers as you pulled them away.

Bite down, Rhys's midnight voice spoke into your mind, and you followed the command without a thought.

Heat rushed through you as you did, the perfect couple next to you doing the same. Two golden threads tugged on your heart at the same time, making themselves known and solidifying in an instant, a gasp leaving you at the overwhelming feeling of it.

"Bow to your new queen," Rhys - The High King, in this moment - demanded, and in a wave of movement, each citizen gathered, regardless of Court or status, bowed deeply, waiting for their rulers' command to stand.

But it never came - Feyre had already winnowed the three of you to a bedroom, the mating frenzy already beginning to take its course.

🩵💜🤍💜🩵

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Lonely Souls Club 10

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as stalking, loneliness, noncon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Two lost souls cross, but not all those are lost, want to be found.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Reader

Bucky puts a lap table across you. You thank him quietly and stare at the wall to your left. You're embarrassed. You never ate in bed, even if bed was your only place to sit. You could always get up and feed yourself.

He puts a container in front of you. Another thanks. He adds a can of ginger ale.

"Didn't know what you liked," he says.

"It's fine," you assure him.

He nods and sits sideways just on the other side of the table. He reaches into the paper bag with a crinkle. He takes out another container and balances it on his lap.

You chew your lip. The smell is driving you crazy. You're hungry. Very hungry. You don't eat much as it is and you never eat anything that takes very much effort. If it's not a lack of money, it's a lack of strength. Your stomach roars.

Bucky chuckles, "you're hungry."

"Um, yeah," you admit. Your body can't help but betray you.

He opens his container and you slowly do the same. The sudden release of the aroma has your mouth watering. You focus on unwrapping the utensils. Your hands are shaking.

Slow down. You make an effort to be patient. You don't want to show how your stomach feels ready to cave in on itself. He saws at the chicken in his container.

"I got grilled... wasn't in the mood for fried," he sounds almost apologetic.

"It looks great," you murmur as you slice off a tender morsel of meat.

Quietly you taste it. You could moan. It's so good. The texture, the flavour, everything. You have some of the rice next. It's wonderful too. And the seasonal mix of broccoli is perfectly steamed.

Your eyes sting. The food is so good, it's almost tear-inducing. And it's so much food. You could split it into three meals. That's what you would do if it was just you. Not quite full portions but enough to get buy.

You pace yourself. You take a bite of each in a cycle; meat, rice, veggie. You fill up quickly. 

You open the ginger ale and gulp. You cough as the carbonation burns your nose. You cover your mouth and glance at Bucky. He's already watching you. You take the napkin from beside the container and wipe your mouth.

"Sorry..."

"For what?" He asks.

"I just... hope I wasn't eating loud or anything."

"Nope. Just happy you're eating," he shrugs.

"Um, yeah, er." You fold up the napkin. "Think I'm done for now. I'm full."

"You sure?" He arches a brow at your leftovers.

"Can I finish later? Tomorrow?" You twist the napkin nervously. "I'm sorry. I don't want to waste it but I can't eat anymore."

"That's fine," he assures gently. "You like it?"

"Sure. It was yummy. Better than... well, just good."

"Mm," he hums and looks at his food. He closes the container, sticking the knife and fork in the side so they stand up.

"You can keep eating."

"I'm good," he stands and turns to you. You close up the container and hand it over. He takes it and stacks it on his. "Get you anything else?"

"No, no. You've done more than enough." You lower your chin and sip on the ginger ale.

He lingers for a moment before he retreats. He takes the paper bag with him. You stare at the metal tab on the can.

It's strange. You're uncomfortable about being here. Somewhere strange, somewhere not your own. You're an imposition. Yet, there's something that isn't so uncomfortable. It's a new but not unkind feeling to have someone want to take care of you.

You drain about half the can. When Bucky gets back, sets it on the night table and moves the tray from your lap. You lean back into the pillows. The weight in your stomach makes you yawn.

"Tired?" He asks.

"Sorry, yes," you clutch the collar of the borrowed shirt.

"Don't be. You should get some sleep. It's the best medicine."

You scoff, "yeah, well, afraid it can't fix me."

His expression softens. "I know, I'm sorry."

"No, I am. I'm not trying to be... well... I guess I am bitter, but... I appreciate everything. I'm just tired."

"Of course. I'll let you get some shut eye. You need anything, I'll be around," he backs up toward the door.

"Thank you. I won't though. I can't ask for anything else."

He turns and hovers hand by the light switch, "want this off?"

"If you don't mind."

"Sure thing, doll."

He flicks it and steps through the door. He pulls it shut but it doesn't click. You slide down and adjust the pillows. The effort exhausts you. You roll onto your side and groan, rubbing your bad hip.

The mattress is so nice. So cushy. Not like your lump one where you can feel the metal frame beneath. You sigh. Your muscles slacken and your eyes close on their own. It's nice to just relax.

Bucky

Bucky puts away the food. He didn't expect her to eat it all but how little she did, concerns him. It suggests that it's been a while since she had a full plate.

He's not very hungry himself. He's nervous. He finally has her with him, yet it doesn't feel real. She's still shy, still standoffish. She needs to adjust. He knows that.

He remembers when he was afraid. Sometimes he still is. When he came out of the darkness and had to face the world. Had to acknowledge all those things he'd done to survive.

He sits on the stairs again. It's like he's on watch at the foxhole again. That was a very long time ago. He remembers the dark nights, the looming threat of shells or gunfire. He thought then that he was as tainted as he could be. War never leaves any untouched.

Now, he sees that man as naive. A man who can't fathom the basest acts of humanity. A man who believed in humanity.

He cradles his head. He's tired. He hasn't been sleeping. What's new about that?

He stays like that until he's too anxious to be still. He turns and climbs the stairs. He keeps his footsteps light. He walks down to the bedroom door and hovers his hand by it. He recoils and retraces his steps. He goes into the bathroom.

He leaves the door open. He can hear her even with it shut but just in case. He cranks on the shower head and lets it patter against the curtain until it steams. He undresses and leaves the clothes in a pile. He stares at his reflection. 

He feels the mottled flesh around his left shoulder. He hooks his hand around and drags it. His arm releases and he puts it on the counter. He stands straighter without it, listing a bit to the right instead.

The other scars catch his eye. Thick slices on his rib cage, stray lines on his chest and stomach. There's more on the thighs. He knows not all were a prize of combat. Many were Hydra tools.

He steps under the hot water and lets the memories flow away. He's not that man sitting watch outside the foxhole, he's not the shell filled with the cruelty of others, he's not even the scared man who woke up in another century. He's feeling like himself. He's feeling whole. Just to have her near.

He washes methodically, at time mechanically. As he shuts off the faucet, he listens for her. He can hear how slow her breaths are. She's sleeping. That's good.

He ruffles his hair with the towel, absorbing most of the excess. He dries his face and neck, his chest. He feels a twitch at the thought that colours his mind. He thinks of her hands on the towel, guiding it over his skin. What would she say about all the scars?

He wraps the towel around his waist and goes to the door. He stands in the frame as he shuts the light out and gazes down at the bedroom. He doesn't move for a while.

The warmth of the shower cloys around him. He's tired now. He makes his way down the hallway. He pushes on the door so it inches open slowly. He sees her silhouette in the dim. She's on her side, her hand on her hip as if she'd fallen asleep rubbing it.

He goes around the other side and watches her. Gently, he lowers himself into the empty space. The bed doesn't feel so big now. He shifts down onto his side as he slides beneath the duvet. He tugs it up past her waist.

He keeps his hand on her arm. Her heat seeps into his palm. She doesn't react. He drags his touch up then down. She doesn't stir. He tracks her pulse to make sure.

He caresses her gently as her breaths push through her dry lips. He lifts himself to move closer to her. He dips his hand under her arm and follows the curve of her side. Up, then down. A little firmer than below. He feels her ease into his touch even as she remains asleep.

He shudders as his hand falls down to her stomach. What are you doing, sarge? He grazes up her torso and holds his breath as he cups her chest, just enough to feel the swell. His insides are churning. Stop.

He can't. He wants to be close to her forever. He wants to drape himself around her so no one else can ever hurt her, though her own body seems to be her greatest enemy.

He trails his hand back down and fumbles with the hem of her shirt. He pushes his hand beneath the baggy fabric and over her naked skin. She's soft and warm and intoxicating. He moves even closer, until he's flush to her back.

He nuzzles her head and kisses her hair. A groan escapes him as he slips his hand up to fondle her chest. He circles her nipple as it goes rigid, tracing it with his thumb as he purrs.

His hips move without a thought. He's throbbing and hard. He tilts against her, the bed rocking with him. He buries his nose in her hair and bites his lip.

Stop, stop, stop. He wants to stop but not as badly as he wants to keep going.

His breath plumes hotly from his nostrils as he chokes on a grunt. His stomach is heavy and his core thrumming. His thighs strain and cramp as he fights the peak. He's almost there. Almost...

He closes his eyes and pushes his head back as he gropes her tightly. He spasms as he cums and his motion peters out. He heaves and stays against her until he can move again.

He rolls onto his back with a sigh. He pushes the blanket down and peels away the slimy towel. It's all over. On his thighs, his pelvis, the cotton. It's so much he can smell it.

He listens to her. She whimpers. His heart pumps and he sits up. No, no, did she wake up?

She whimpers again and her foot kicks. She snorts. He focuses on her heartbeat. She's dreaming. He exhales in relief.

"I know, doll. You hurt bad," he puts his hand on her hip gently. "I'm gonna make it better."

[ichosetenderplaces]

II : In Your Wake Only Blood and Bones

Part 2 : Feel No Fear Before the Multitude of Men Requested By: @lissthatskiss Ares!Technoblade x HalfNymph!Reader

Recommended Listening: Arsonist's Lullabye by Hozier and Vulture Culture by Fangclub Words: 1.4k Taglist: @lissthatskiss @segnoblade @wingedghostpepper

Technoblade was a bored man. Well, not man per say. Though, it is a funny thought that those mortals think they can match him in skill. The smarter ones pray to him for protection in their battles and while, most of the time, he does not indulge them, he has been feeling bored with even those fools as a way to pass the time. The mortals have constructed an arena in his name and he presides over it for the free entertainment for when he is well and truly bored. He has not checked up on the arena these mortals have declared is his in quite some time.

“Heh?” Technoblade says in surprise. 

There seems to be a woman fighter with one of the most beautiful forms of fighting he has seen in quite some time. It is not uncommon for women to fight in his army. His brothers, annoying as they are, were not the only ones to join him in war. Looking closer, he realizes the woman is barely paying any attention! She is cutting down the man in front of her with a glazed out look in her eye. 

She seems to be a veteran of his arena. A fighter of that caliber going unnoticed by his attention is inexcusable. This arena is a far cry from the best he’s ever seen. Though, they do seem to treat her better than most of the other fighters in this pit. After disguising himself as a mortal man, he begins to make a circuit around the place. They serve her barely enough food, douse her in dirty water to “clean” her, and then she is dragged to her cell. That look in her eye remains all the same.

There is something about her that screams of rivers, mountains, and fields. 

“Hmm, she must be at least part nymph. Though, it is not enough for the mortals to pick up on.” Technoblade mutters to himself. 

You have thoroughly captured his attention. Bored no longer, he eagerly awaits your next fight. 

Technoblade has never taken much interest in mortals. While he has come across those of whom that slightly impress him, he’s never found one of your strengths. To be able to fight completely on auto pilot. Barely giving any attention to the fellow fighters you cut down without mercy. The blood you spill, the hatred you feel for those who keep you there - it fills him with the strength of a thousand. 

He knows he is not your god. You have the markings of Artemis, but they have faded. It seems you no longer worship her. All the better for him. Though, he cannot make such an important decision, to bring you under his godhood, lightly. He will need to see more of the strength you hold. See you actually try during a fight. If the whispers he has heard around this arena are any indication, it seems your owners are orchestrating your “final” fight - one that is designed for you to lose. 

“Perhaps I could get her to devote herself to me. One divine blessing certainly couldn’t hurt. She will not be allowed to win unless I step in. Hmm, a talk with Lady Kristin is in order.” 

The domain of the Keres are ever changing. They slip between war torn villages, battlefields, and gruesome epidemics. But, being the God he is, they are more than easy to find. Technoblade has been well acquainted with these goddesses since he first entered godhood, perhaps even before then. There is one Keres, however, that presides over them all. Lady Kristin. It is a good thing that they have been friends for a very long time. For what he is about to ask of her would not be accepted if they were not old friends. 

Arriving in her domain, he is immediately hit with the image of Lady Kristin atop her throne of thorns and bones. At her right side is one of the oldest and most loyal of her servants - Philza. 

“Techno! It has been quite some time since you last visited us.” Kristin greets him excitedly. The Keres are always quite fond of him, for the wars he causes empower their divinity.  They feed on the bloodshed and death he causes, their existence goes hand in hand. However, Kristen is more than just any Keres. She guides those who die a violent death into the underworld - a fate he is trying to stop you from suffering. 

“My apologies. I have found myself a bit bored lately. I thought a visit between friends could break my boredom.” Technoblade drawls. While he did come here to get Kristen to leave your soul to him, he has missed his friends. Kirstin laughs, “You hardly ever crawl out of that domain of yours unless it's for war, or something equally exciting. Not that I’m not happy with you here.” Kristen has always had a way to see through his bluster. For all that he is proud of who he has become, he will never be a people person. He is the epitome of bloodlust, after all. 

“Yeah mate, we usually have to visit after one of your battles.” Philza speaks up from beside the throne. Technoblade tries to defend his poor social life, “Well, I am a busy man.” Kristin and Philza laugh. “You did just tell us that you’ve been feeling bored. A “busy” god such as yourself rarely make time for social calls, Techno.” Kristin speaks with words full of mirth, and at his expense. 

Feeling a slight bit attacked, Technoblade quickly switches the subject. “Well, I am here to ask a small favor, on top of getting to see my dear friends.” Technoblade is not a man who asks for favors. To do so, in his mind, implies weakness. But, he has known these two for nearly his entire time as a god. They will not prey on his weakness, this he is sure of. 

 “Oh, a favor?” Kristen is quickly intrigued, as is her loyal crow. “You almost never ask us for favors, Tech. Certainly not since that time in the Trojan war.” 

“Well, you see, there is a mortal woman who has caught my attention. Her swordsmanship is truly magnificent and she hardly has to think while fighting against her opponents. I fear she will have the odds stacked against her in an upcoming fight. I ask of you to not take her soul.” Technoblade explains. Kristin and Phil quickly exchange surprised and startled glances. “You have not expressed any interest in mortals outside of their wars, what could have possibly brought this on?” Kristen asks, Phil still standing there trying to process such an unlikely request from his oldest friend. 

“They have not engaged in any, truly, invigorating fights. Their meagre wars no longer sate my desire for warfare. Something to keep my attention is badly needed. This boredom is akin to the feeling I had before the war I started with Kronos and his potatoes.” Technoblade explains. Kristin and Phil both pale. That war had lasted centuries and they barely ever got to see their friend, let alone feed on his exploits. “Well, we can certainly help with that. I will appoint Phil to watch over her and give the order to leave her soul to you. I truly hope you will find what you are looking for in this mortal woman.” Kristen replied with enthusiasm. She has watched her friend keep himself at arms length with most of the other gods. Philza and her are the only ones to ever make him feel at such ease. To have another, someone closer, would truly make her excited for her friend. 

“I truly appreciate it, Kristin.” Technoblade says to her. “Let us know if you need any help with anything more, especially considering this lady.” Philza insisted. He knows his friend, perhaps better than anyone else, and knows he is not much of a converser. “I will, Phil, thank you.” “Anything for you, Techno.” The two chorused together. He could not ask for a better pair of divines in his corner. 

After saying goodbye, Technoblade arrives at his home on Mount Olympus. His palace is large and rugged, a reflection of the god himself. The other gods avoid his domain like the plague - and his all the happier for it. Though, having some company to keep him preoccupied during his bouts of boredom would not be objectionable, not in the least.