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thedensworld · 9 months ago

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Alone at Night | K.Mg

Pairing: Mingyu x Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, established relationship, short!

Summary: Mingyu has no idea until he had to sleepover in your house because of the rain. In fact, it hurts him.

In the dimly lit room, the soft patter of rain against the window was the only sound, punctuated occasionally by a distant rumble of thunder. Mingyu shifted on the couch, glancing at the clock on the wall. 2 a.m. already. He hadn't planned on staying this late, but fate, it seemed, had other ideas.

As he nestled deeper under the cozy comforter you had provided, Mingyu couldn't help but smile, reminiscing about the evening that led to this unexpected slumber party. Your movie date had been nothing short of perfect – a delicious dinner cooked by your own hands followed by a marathon of films, laughter, and the warmth of your presence beside him.

But as the clock struck midnight, Mingyu had made a mental note to leave, not wanting to overstay his welcome or make things awkward. Yet, as if the universe conspired against his plans, the rain began to pour relentlessly, trapping him in your cozy abode for the night.

"Fourth date and already a sleepover," he mused to himself, a mixture of amusement and disbelief coloring his thoughts. Mingyu couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in his chest at the thought of spending more time with you, even if it was under somewhat unconventional circumstances.

Reflecting on how he had met you through a mutual friend, Mingyu couldn't help but marvel at the unexpected turn his life had taken. Your calm demeanor and quiet energy had drawn him in from the start, and what had begun as a simple friendship had blossomed into something deeper – something he couldn't quite put into words.

And when he finally mustered the courage to confess his feelings, Mingyu had braced himself for any outcome, never daring to hope that you might feel the same way. Your stoicism had kept him guessing, but your acceptance had filled him with a warmth he had never known before.

As he drifted off to sleep, cocooned in the comfort of your home and the promise of a new day with you, Mingyu couldn't help but feel grateful for the rain that had brought him here – and for the person who had stolen his heart in the most unexpected of ways.

In the midst of his own thoughts and worries, Mingyu couldn't shake the feeling of concern gnawing at him. He knew you had been through a lot lately – the setbacks at work, the financial burdens from family, the weight of responsibilities pressing down on your shoulders. Yet, you always seemed to carry yourself with such grace and composure, never letting on just how much you were struggling.

But as he lay awake on the couch, the sound of faint sobbing drifting through the stillness of the night shattered Mingyu's facade of calm. His heart clenched with a mixture of anguish and helplessness, realizing that it was you – the person he cared for deeply – who was silently bearing the weight of your own troubles.

With cautious steps, Mingyu approached your slightly ajar door, his ears straining to catch the sound of your stifled sobs. His hand hovered over the door, torn between respecting your privacy and wanting to offer whatever comfort he could.

Inside your room, you sat on the edge of your bed, shoulders trembling as you tried to contain the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. Despite your best efforts to reassure Mingyu and everyone else that you were okay, the facade cracked in the solitude of the night, allowing the pent-up tears to finally spill over.

Mingyu's heart clenched at the sight of you on the bed, your body trembling with silent sobs. The realization that you had been crying alone, even with him just a room away, sent a pang of guilt coursing through him. What pain had you been concealing behind that stoic facade? The thought gnawed at him, filling him with a deep ache of concern for you.

Summoning his resolve, Mingyu softly knocked on your door, his hand lingering on the doorknob before gently pushing it open. The dim light of the night lamp cast a soft glow over the room as Mingyu stepped inside, his gaze drawn to your form on the bed.

"Do you need something, Mingyu?" Your voice, tinged with exhaustion and sadness, cut through the silence. You looked up at him, attempting to mask the vulnerability that lingered in your eyes, but Mingyu saw through the facade.

Without a word, he approached you, his heart heavy with the weight of your pain. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he reached out and switched on the night lamp, illuminating your tear-stained face. His hand moved to your cheek, gentle and tender as he wiped away the evidence of your tears.

In the quiet intimacy of the moment, Mingyu hummed softly, a soothing melody meant to offer comfort and solace. There were no words to express the depth of his concern for you, but in that simple gesture, he hoped you could feel his unwavering support and the love that overflowed in his heart.

"Mingyu..." Your voice quivered as you spoke his name, a mixture of relief and vulnerability laced in those two syllables.

"It's okay... You can cry..." Mingyu's voice was gentle, his words a soothing balm to your wounded soul. With a reassuring nod, he extended his hand, offering you the comfort and understanding you so desperately needed.

As you sat in front of him, the floodgates of emotion burst open, tears streaming down your cheeks unchecked. Mingyu's heart constricted at the sight of your raw pain, but he remained steadfast, his arms opening wide to envelop you in a warm embrace.

"Baby..." Mingyu's voice was tender, filled with a depth of emotion that spoke volumes. He pulled you closer, holding you tightly against his chest as you surrendered to your tears. Each sob wracked your body, but Mingyu held you with unwavering strength, his presence a beacon of solace in the darkness of your despair.

You cried harder, the weight of your burdens feeling momentarily lighter in Mingyu's embrace. His words of reassurance washed over you like a gentle wave, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the storm of your emotions.

"It's okay, you're doing great... I'm here." Mingyu's whispered words echoed in the stillness of the room, a promise of his unwavering support and unconditional love. And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of his embrace, you knew that you were not alone – that no matter how heavy the burdens you carried, Mingyu would always be there to share the load.

Wrapped in the comforting cocoon of your embrace, Mingyu held you close, his arms a steady anchor amidst the storm of your emotions. He watched as your tears gradually subsided, your breathing slowing to a steady rhythm against his chest. With tender care, he brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

"Is it always like this? Every night?" Mingyu's voice was soft, tinged with concern, as he finally broached the subject that had been weighing on his mind.

You shook your head, the remnants of sadness still lingering in your eyes. "Sometimes it just hits randomly at night. Without a reason."

"This time too?" Mingyu's question was gentle, his gaze searching yours for any sign of reassurance.

You nodded, the weight of your admission hanging heavy in the air between you. But Mingyu didn't falter – instead, he pulled you closer, his touch a silent vow of unwavering support.

His hand found yours, fingers intertwining in a comforting gesture as he spoke, his voice filled with determination. "If this happens again, later... Call me. I'll be by your side, like this."

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of Mingyu's love and the promise of his steadfast presence, you felt a glimmer of hope ignite within you. No matter how dark the night may seem, you knew that with Mingyu by your side, you would never have to face it alone.

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evieelyzabethh · 11 days ago

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What would be worse would be a yandere Jayce back in the apocalypse universe or a yandere Viktor who turned into the herald, why not both. What would it be like if the two were in love with the reader, but never declared themselves... well until these events, perhaps magic corrupted that love and turned it into something dark, perhaps a yanderes fight, perhaps a reconciliation between the two... Could you make a fanfiction of this, perhaps if possible with a female reader?

This came at such a perfect time because I've been having a lot of yandere Arcane thoughts, and it is too far from October to wait to do it for some sort of Halloween event. Needless to say, get ready for Yanuary (everyone say thank you mina for coming up with the name) because I am about to be insufferable. I'll certainly do more with these concepts a bit later, but for now I will leave some headcanons...

tw for obsessive behaviors and Herald!Viktors very flawed line of logic

While both loves start out pure, intentions take a turn for the worst after the world starts to go to shit. While I don't think it's canon, I am a firm believer that Viktor died during that explosion and what is left of him is a persona puppetted around by the Arcane. All of Viktor's raw ambitions; notoriety, an able body, and desire to help the Zaunites all become corrupted. Viktor deeply regrets taking a back seat to negotiations surrounding the fate of those from the Undercity, his pride was too great to beg for scraps from those seated at the table, and thus his genuine want to help those from his home gets sidelined because of his pride and want of glory.

Love is not a corruptible force. When Viktor died, so did his love for you, but those intense feeling certainly linger. That admiration turns to obsession, the need to be adored turns into desperate overcompensation. He feels it is his calling to save the world, he develops a very focused tunnel vision and a savior complex that motivates his every action to not only save the world, but more importantly, save his world. To save you, to preserve you. His dream is to keep you infinitely, that really is the root of his Glorious Evolution. He wants perfection in the human form, the human mind, the human capability. He wants to perfect the human condition, he wants forever.

You must see it his way, you must be his accomplice, he wants you to be by his side every step of the way. The Sky he hallucinates is nothing but an astral projection of a perfected version of her, at times a manifestation of his humanity and why he kept going. She was his regrets, his comfort, she was the bad he was making good. But you. You are what he is striving to build. You are his goal, his muse. Every bit of him that respected you then yearns so deeply for you now. And he hasn't found you yet, you disappeared before he woke up and even Jayce didn't know where you were, but he is sure that if he were to find you, you would understand.

Jayce going yandere would occur after his trip to whatever hell dimension he was left to. Time works differently everywhere, he was only gone for months in the main verse, but it could've been years for him. Years in not just solitude, but a wasteland of death. Jayce is someone who so thoroughly, and at times naively, believes in humanity's capability for good. It's his passion. Him signing his notes, his dedication to his craft, his willingness to learn the ways of politics, his kicking Heimerdinger off the council, his gullibility, his willingness to move wherever the wind from someone's lips takes him, it's all because of faith and a passion for good. Now, everywhere he looks isn't just death, but remnants of war.

Everything he's worked tirelessly to avoid has not only come true but disproves his entire way of thinking. It takes more than him to save the world, it takes more than the help of others to save the world, it may take more than even exists to save the world. Even worse, it may take him not existing to save the world. While Viktor's yandere nature is built from a need to preserve what is right, the only thing that is right, Jayce is a man who is completely and utterly lost.

He doesn't know what's right anymore, but he knows he needs to do something to make it right. He doesn't cling to the thought of you for guidance, he clings to you because it's all he knows. You could've been the worst person in the world, but he would've hoped for you in the end of the world because you were there. You were real. His dream may not have been, but he touched you, and you believed in him, and you were as magical as a wish but as tangible as a physical star. You were bright, and you were warm, and you were real.

And he sits there in that cold, damp cave, nothing but stones, insects, and death around him, and every time he scrawls your face it looks a bit different. Your smell gets mingled with mildew and dampness as that slowly becomes his home, the drops of rain and rock start to sound like the twinkling sound of your voice, everything becomes you. Not for the sake of his sanity, that left him when time began to wave through him until he was convinced he would begin to vomit tick marks, but for the sake of survival. You were his faith. He would've worshipped the ground you walked on, and though you were nothing but dust here, he could find you everywhere. He went through a transcendental awakening; belief needed faith, and faith was all he had. You had to be real, why else would the insects chirp, why else would water flow, why else would he bleed, if not for you, if not because of you. If he believed, then you were real, and he would get back to you one day and be rewarded by his conviction.

When he finds his way back, he is searching for you immediately. Even when his surroundings blend and his ears bleed and he's overwhelmed by life once again, he is convinced that he will find you. You have to be out there. You can't be dead. He's lived in a world without you for too long, he would finally break if he couldn't be with you again. He's possessive. You have only existed in his mind for years; this world has had you all to itself while he suffered endlessly and eternally only wanting you. He's feels entitled to you. He knows you don't need his protection, but you are ignorant to what's out in the world. It's not a matter of if he finds you, it's when. A believer as devout as him wouldn't just go to the ends of the earth, he's already done that. If he must, he'd go beyond. He's been through hell; he is more than deserving of heaven. He knows he was wrong for believing in humanity when he had his God in front of him the whole time.

As for who's worse, it really depends. Physically, Jayce. He doesn't realize his strength, he hasn't had to worry about the delicateness of flesh in a while. His hands have held nothing but harsh rock. He would never intentionally hurt you; he would spiral if he even accidentally caused you any harm. He's far more fragile that Viktor, he's more prone to outbursts, though his violence is always inflicted inward. He believes he's ruined; he only wants to be saved. Viktor is the complete opposite. He would be worse mentally. Like Jayce, he would never physically harm you, but he's not above manipulation. He won't give up on you, you're too precious, but you have to see it his way. Why won't you see it his way? He'll just have to make you.

These two are diametrically opposed. An immovable obstacle and unstoppable object. They would butt heads forever over you, they wouldn't be able to reach a compromise or any sort of agreement. Viktor is dangerous. His evolution is actively killing people, Viktor himself is already long gone. Jayce would sooner die than let him have you and Viktor wouldn't mind killing Jayce and leaving his dead body to rot. Jayce isn't worth saving to him, you can lead a horse to water, but you can't teach it to drink. If Jayce doesn't want his salvation, he isn't worth convincing, he can die painfully in that clumsy mortal vessel and decay on the hill he chose. He can't have you; he doesn't deserve you.

#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane fanfic #arcane x you #eviesmadness🪻#viktor arcane #viktor x reader #arcane headcanon #jayce arcane #jayce x reader #yandere arcane #yandere x reader #yandere

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xetlynn · 1 month ago

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an artists muse- a viktor fic.

one.

[intro] [one] [two]

a paradox of fate.

“Shit, shit!” You muttered under your breath as your feet quickly rushed across the college campus. Repeatedly checking the time on your phone along with your lockscreen that was a picture of your schedule. You were over five minutes late due to your ignorance in paying attention to the clock whilst completing applications for part time jobs.

Your hands collide with the door to your class, slamming it open. Earning awareness from all eyes in the room. Your cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I- sorry! I lost track of time!” You pant, shakily walking inside. Your professor has a gentle smile upon his lips. “It’s quite alright, dear! Find a seat, it’s the first day so no harm done!” He waves off your tardiness, relief sighing out your body.

Your eyes scan the room, hoping to see someone familiar but no luck. Instead you lock contact with a boy who sends chills down your spine. His gaze pierced into you. His brunette locks falter into his vision when he attempts to glance away. You deem him nice-enough looking and make your way beside him.

His shoulders tense, not expecting someone to choose to sit next to him. Not when there were multiple other choices to choose from. He figures you only did so because he looks smart. Conjecturing that you could cheat off of him.

“Did I miss anything important?” You lean close to him, not too close to where you were in his personal space though. It was enough that your scent hit his nose like a ton of bricks. Vanilla and honey? A hint of coconut in there as well?

He doesn’t look at you, staring straight at the board. “No, just an introduction of himself.” He whispers, leaning his chin on his clasped hands, held up by his elbows. You purse your lips out, almost frowning. “Introductions are important.” You murmur but it was inaudible to his ears.

When class is dismissed you’re the first one to stand from your seat. Just like you entered the room is exactly how you left. Flinging the heavy doors open and scurrying to the school’s cafeteria. “[Name]! Over here!” A blue-haired girl loudly shouts, standing from a chair as her boyfriend behind her was quietly begging her to get down. You laugh, waving at her. You join the two, sitting down as your chest is still heaving.

“I was late to my first class! What a way to start the semester.” You pout, stealing a sip of Ekko’s drink since it was the only thing on the table. He went to stop you but he knows he’d lose the argument against you. “Hah! Really? Me too!” Powder, your best friend laughs.

“We’re like platonic soul mates!” You beam, grabbing her hand. She squeezes it, getting in close to your face. “Why platonic? We could be romantic!” She scrunches her nose with determination. You roll your eyes as Ekko clears his throat, reminding the both of you that he still sat there. “Right… boyfriend.” Her face goes sour in a playful manner, leaning back on her boyfriend. “Just kidding, just kidding…” She kisses his cheek causing you to gag at the sight.

“Gross.”

“You’re just jealous.” He points a finger in your face. “Whatever.” You sulk.

“Oh, I have to get to my next class. Don’t want to be late a second time.” Powder shoots up, pecking Ekko’s lips and then ruffling your hair before sprinting off.

Ekko and you look around, pretending to act awkward. “So…” He begins. “So.” You repeat shortly. “We’re going to have a sleepover tonight, you comin?” He tilts his head. Your eyes sparkle at the question. “Uh! Of course!!! Powder and I will beg Vi for drugs.” You blurt out, a little too loud. People look over and you just chuckle.

Ekko shakes his head, “I don’t think she’s going to after the last time she got you alcohol.” He presses his lips together in a straight line. “Psshhh, we didn’t even cause that bike to explode.” You say while avoiding eye contact, knowing for a fact that it was the both of you.

“I can convince Vi, she loves me!”

“I know she does but ah, whatever. You’re going to do it anyway.” He stops himself from lecturing you, you nod in response. “Exactly.

—————————————

[gc with Ekko, Claggor, powder, mylo and you]

mylo 👎- someone tell [name] to STOP SENDING ME PICS OF SCARY IMAGES

Claggoooo- [name] stop.

You- BOOOOO!!!

Lover stealer- please remember to get food and stuff for tonight. Everyone.

Lover stealer- even you mylo.

mylo👎- what!? Why are you singling me out???

Powpow😻- you never bring anything. You moocher.

You- literally.

mylo👎- [NAME] I DONT WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU!!!

You- too bad, cry about it. Sob.

————————————————

“Please, please, please, PLEASE!!!” You and Powder are currently on your knees, begging the pink-haired girl in front of the both of you. Arms folded and an eyebrow raised. “Guys-”

“Puh-LEASE!” You interrupt before she can say no.

“[Name]-” “VIOLET PLEASE!!” You cry out dramatically. Powder giving her sister puppy-dog eyes. “If you would listen for a second!!!” She smacks a hand over your mouth. “I was going to say you could have my left over vodka that’s in my mini-fridge.” She points over to the black appliance. Both of your faces fall momentarily before Powder goes to the fridge, snatching the clear and blue glass bottle.

You stand up, embracing Vi. “I love you.” You mutter in her ear, following Powder out of the dorm, yelling ‘thank you’s.’

“The party’s here!!” Powder bursts into the three boys’ shared apartment, holding up the bottle of vodka like simba from the lion king.

They cheer, Claggor taking the bottle and putting it in a bucket of ice they have. Beers from their last hang out in the ice. You also brought three boxes of pizza, sitting it on the stove. “I also brought my wii and just dance. We are going to get so wasted.” You announce excitedly.

“Don’t you have a class in the morning?” Mylo prompts, and you just ignore him.

“I’ll hook this up while you guys get some food.” You say, the short brunette scoffing at your rudeness of not replying to him.

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cattlemons · 1 month ago

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hey!! it’s 💿 anon :)) i feel bad that i’ve only sent you angst requests so here’s a happy one! (because i adore everything about fall!!! cozy sweaters, warm tea, the pretty colors :)) it’s so great) maybe something about fall picnic dates/hangouts? with whatever characters you feel like writing for :D <333

Seasons of Change: Autumn Activities

Multi character! Diluc, Wanderer x Reader (separate)

TW: Nothing!

Diluc “You know, you could’ve told me you wanted to go out on a stroll,” Diluc huffed before continuing, “I would’ve brought you your coat, sweetheart.”

Trust in your husband to be a worrywart.

“It’s not even that cold out here, Diluc. It’s brisk at best,” you poked his side as you teased him on, “plus I’ve got my own walking fireplace right here. What would I need a coat for?”

Accepting his defeat, Diluc grumbled silently about how much of a tease his wife was. Though he wouldn’t want you any other way, not with how tightly his grip on your hands was.

You continued your walk in balmy silence as the moon hung brightly in the inky expanse of the autumnal sky, wordlessly spectating the moment you two were currently sharing.

“Hey, husband,” you called, “what’s your favorite season?”

The husband in question rolled his eyes at your unusual nickname but thought of it as endearing regardless. He mulled your question over, knowing that you weren’t going to accept just any ordinary answer.

It was silent for a few seconds before he answered, “Any season is nice when I get to spend it with you.”

He waited for your reaction expectantly though he wished he hadn’t because he saw your face scrunch in faux disgust before letting out a loud snort that stumbled and rolled into plentiful guffaws. Despite the source of your mirth stemming from his embarrassment, he couldn’t help but think he’d embarrass himself ten times over just to hear your tinkling chimes of happiness.

You wiped your fake tears as you leaned into him and mused, “I never realized I married myself to a cheesy man. If you trained hard enough, I’m sure in a few month's time you’ll be giving Kaeya a run for his money.”

“You tease me relentlessly for my, ahem, creativity yet I’m sure if I answered you with a measly ‘autumn’ you’d tease me just the same for being boring,” he commented with a raised eyebrow.

You nodded, “fair enough, your assumptions are correct. I do tease you quite a bit, don’t I?”

“I’d say much more than just ‘quite a bit’,” Your husband huffed out though a smile crept slowly onto his lips. Even as he defended himself before you, he can’t help but subconsciously adore you, smiling at just how comfortable you and your sly tongue are with him. He’s glad he makes you feel safe enough to goof off.

As you both continue throwing loving jabs at one another, he pulls you closer to him. You snuggle into him as you inhale the warm woody scent of your husband. All the familiarity that exudes from your favorite person in the entire world softens your heart like no other; the realization that he knows you much more than anyone does brings a pleasant sense of comfort that gathers and pools in the pits of your stomach.

Out of the billions of souls wandering the planes of Teyvat, you’re glad that yours have found kinship with his blazing soul. You wonder how low you’d have to bow your thanks to Lady Luck for arranging such a beautiful fate. Thinking of him and how well your body fits into his pulls you to stand on the tips of your toes to give him the faintest of kisses.

You’ve kissed him with passion under the security of silk blankets, yes. You’ve kissed him with giggles in between both your lips, yes. But this feels entirely new but somehow familiar at the same time.

As your lips find purchase in his, his scarred fingers tangle themselves within your locks, intertwining himself as much as he can with you.

The night breeze continues to whistle around you and the woodland critters of the night chitter away at the starry world but neither of you seem to notice. Much like you said earlier, he really does bring warmth along with him. A warmth that encapsulates your heart even on the coldest nights. Your very own walking fireplace.

Your very own home.

The Wanderer

“Wow, I can’t believe you get this view for free all the time. This is incredible! I’d bet you can sell tickets and get a whole lot of Mora by taking people on joyrides. I mean flying is a luxury, you know... for most people, anyway.”

The Wanderer huffed in annoyance as he threw you a not-so-icy glare while readjusting your position in his arms.

“It’s not a smart idea to test my patience while your life is in my hands, idiot. I take my hands off of you and you’re plummeting to your death,” the man said a bit too matter-of-factly.

You groaned dramatically about how he ruined the mood and poked some more fun at him knowing he wouldn’t dare drop you, you’d bet good Mora he knew that too.

As you fly over the canopy of Apam Woods, you both find yourself slowly forgetting your main objective of tracking down a gang of treasure hoarders that ransacked your campsite a couple of hours ago. It’s not like they stole anything of value, just a bunch of knick-knacks you picked up from a traveling merchant.

“I know you once told me that autumn is the poor man’s winter but I'd bet half my fortune that this view has changed your mind,” you smile as you lean your head to rest on his shoulder before continuing, “Fall is probably the most boring season anywhere else in Teyvat but in a continent wholly filled with trees, you can’t help but appreciate the change in color palette.”

Despite his silence, The Wanderer understood what you meant. He wasn’t one to be awed by a pretty view but he admits that perhaps, just this once, it is worth the admiration. His eyes were so used to shades of teal and green that the moment they finally melted into the warmth of amber hues, he couldn't help but be struck by the beauty of change. Much like who he was made to mimic, he has a certain affinity towards the serenity of stagnancy but, he supposes, much like your presence in his life, you’ve shown him that there is a damning allure about transience. In all honesty, it’s quite a nice change of pace, certainly in his eyes.

You can’t help but fill the silence as the breeze caresses both of you gently.

“I know this is a one-time occasion but I wonder if one day I’d get to see this view again. The trees are like little puddles reflecting the setting sun like a camera capturing little snippets of a pretty, orange image,” you sighed into his shoulders, “maybe one day, I’ll learn to fly too.”

The Wanderer kept to himself as you muttered your sleepy wishes.

As the sun continues its journey into the underworld, the sky begins to shift into a gradient of purple and blue; the colors of midnight sky dissolving into the glowing hues of past hours. The Wanderer found his own midnight eyes drifting towards your sleeping form in his arms. You looked so beautiful, your transient, ever-changing self. He wonders if your wish to see this view once more will come true next year or perhaps the year after that.

Though he knows now that there is no permanence and assurance in the future, he hopes against hope that what you are to him will stand the test of time. Inside the hollow chambers of his chest, he feels the telltale warmth he only feels in the quiet moments you share with him. In that warmth lies his wish to fly with you in his arms, through every autumn he has left to share in this lifetime with you.

a.n. Thanks for visiting, 💿anon. I hope you like this one even though it's rushed and barely checked for grammar mistakes. Sorry it's literally December when I post this :") we can just pretend it's still fall !

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radiance1 · 9 months ago

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Dan before the sun is even up, outside of Vlad's mansion sitting on his bike. "Vlad! Get your old ass out here!"

Vlad, after the 50th (yes he was keeping count) shout and dragging himself out of bed before his wall fets wailed down. "By the Ghostzone what do you want!?"

Dan, smug as fuck. "You are gonna help me ruin Easter!"

Vlad squints. "Easter was days ago, you absolute imbecile."

"Sssshuuut the fuck up." Dan tilts his sunglasses down his face. "We'll go around fucking up some heroes then, and you're gonna help me cause you don't have a choice."

Vlad deadpans, wondering what he could've done to have deserved this fate. He drags a hand down his faces and sighs. "Fine, let me get ready first."

A few hours later Plasmius comes out and Dan lets out a hiss.

"Oh what is it now?" Vlad groans and Dan gestures to all of him. "Change that dumb outfit," Dan pauses for a moment as Plasmius' face changed to one of offence. "And grab your bike while you're at it, and your biker gear because I know you still have both of them."

Plasmius wants to argue so, so, so badly. But he weighs the pros and cons of if he really wants to fight before the sun is up and pay for renovations to his mansion again, and sighed.

A while later

"Dude, you actually got the recluse to leave his haunt!" Johnny 13 exclaimed, staring at the ghost like he was some rare sight and causing Vlad to scowl. "Where's your girlfriend?"

Johnny shrugged. "She wasn't really in on the whole 'ruin Easter thing' so-" Dan held up a hand. "Change of plans, we're fucking with heroes now."

Johnny smirked. "Nice."

Even more while later

"FUCKING FIGHT ME BOYSCOUT!" Dan cackled as he nearly ran Superman over with his motorbike, which was covered in white flames. He took a swift turn in the air to continue chasing after Superman.

Off in the distance, on the ground were both Plasmius and Johnny 13. "Is this all that imbecile does?" Plasmius asked, less than impressed considering he was forced into this. Johnny shrugged. "Yea pretty much, you're a new face though so like, wanna cause some general havoc?"

"Do whatever you want," Plasmius sat on his own bike (having faced a fair amount of modifications) and waved him off. "I'm going to go rob a bank."

"Oh, count me in!"

Meanwhile, back in Amity Park

"Something is wrong." Danny mused, laying in bed. "I should totally figure out what, and I'm gonna do that..." He shifted around into a more comfortable position and closed his eyes. "....Later."

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover

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jadeshifting · 1 month ago

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❦ … LOCKBOX … OF … (WILDEST) … DREAMS

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

if u want the KEY, here it is —> 🗝₊˚⊹♡

౨ৎ ABOUT ME

— i’m JADE, a very typical and normal shifter with too many DRs, too many interests, and too many soulmates (none in this reality, eugh.)

— i love books and movies and anything I can devour and integrate into my identity, which I do with all of them. born in ‘05, i’m 19, and pinterest, tumblr and letterboxd haaaate to see me coming. I write— sometimes a whole bunch of nothing, sometimes things I’m convinced belong in the bible, but I still do it like my fingers will fall off at anytime

.　　. 　 ˚　. ( pssst, my pinterest )

— think curled up in bed wearing a fur coat AND wrapped in a fur blanket, eyeliner from three days ago, furiously typing away, struggling to drink 80oz of water a day and also see every film that’s ever been made. obnoxious right

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　　　　　　 ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

i want a yellow diamond engagement ring .. a BIG one. i want a country house with a porch. i want a velvetine bunny rabbit with floppy ears. i want a stone house next to the sea. i want the whole sea.

and I can HAVE it, and so can you. isn’t shifting fun babes ౨ৎ

౨ৎ SHIFTING JOURNEY

it’s likely nothing you haven’t heard before. I found out about shifting when everyone else did (Hogwarts, which I’m sure you can tell stuck to me like tar) and lived with only misinformation for sustenance on shiftok for a loooong time (rip </3) until I had the sense to use amino, some reddit, and finally ended up on shiftblr

❦ … ALTERNATIVE … REALITIES

(not DESIRED, because I don’t desire things I already have or places I already go to)

⋆. ࿐࿔ HOGWARTS REALITY … school in the echoing, ever shifting stone walls of Hogwarts, excelling at forms of magic that are unknown to the rest of the world. holing up in dorms, lanterns’ glow illuminating ink-smudged fingers and invented incantations. returning to the manor in the summertime, when the fun really stars, when we twirl absurdly in silken gowns at gala after gala, kiss people our families wouldn’t approve of, take our liberties in between swaths of velvet and drenched in silvery champagne. in the end, though, it all comes down to one thing: power. the opulence, our loyalties, our endless magic. it all serves that one thing

hogwarts masterlist

⋆. ࿐࿔ 2006 MYSPACE HOTTIE REALITY

₊˚⊹♡ jare & i keep making headlines ( hot )

⋆. ࿐࿔ THE WALKING DEAD REALITY

𓆩♡𓆪 — intro

𓆩♡𓆪 — 5 senses ( waking up there. )

𓆩♡𓆪 — what’s in my (apocalyptic survival) bag

𓆩♡𓆪 — walking dead radio

𓆩♡𓆪 — my DR self moodboard

𓆩♡𓆪 — 25 days of shiftmas :)

⋆. ࿐࿔ SUPERNATURAL REALITY

★⋆. — intro

★⋆. — hunter log 001

★⋆. — lookbook

⋆. ࿐࿔ STARLET REALITY

⋆. ࿐࿔ BOARDING SCHOOL REALITY

⋆. ࿐࿔ HORSEMEN REALITY

⋆. ࿐࿔ EVER AFTER HIGH REALITY

𓆩♡𓆪 — lore blurb

𓆩♡𓆪 — shoutout to my original s/o (nostalgia, apple ml)

⋆. ࿐࿔ SMALLVILLE REALITY

✮⋆˙ — my dr basics ( pre-intro )

✮⋆˙ — my dr self moodboard ( Jade Apple LaRue )

⋆. ࿐࿔ MUCH ADO ABOUT LOVE LETTERS REALITY

𓆩♡𓆪 — DR blurb

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　　　　　　 ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

❦ … NAVIGATION

⋆. ࿐࿔ asks are always open and I luvvvv them, i’d be totally happy to write scenarios, blurbs, give shifting motivation or scripting ideas, or really anything else. don’t be shy & feel free to send whatever you want :-)

MUSINGS ( SOMEONE STOP HER. )

𓆩♡𓆪 — the spectral glamour girl

𓆩♡𓆪 — don’t feel guilty for your main character syndrome

𓆩♡𓆪 — there are plenty of fates worse than yours

𓆩♡𓆪 — traveling the multiverse vs traveling the world

𓆩♡𓆪 — why do we use face claims? ( on self expression vs. self acceptance )

SCRIPTING IDEAS

𓆩♡𓆪 — hogwarts elective classes to script

𓆩♡𓆪 — places to script (hogsmeade)

𓆩♡𓆪 — enriching your life ( adding depth to the mundane in your DR )

𓆩♡𓆪 — the art of moodboarding ( & using it to script )

𓆩♡𓆪 — uniquely characterizing yourself ( small, important details )

𓆩♡𓆪 — 100 scripting ideas . road trip edition

ITTY BITTY SHIFTING CONTENTS

𓆩♡𓆪 — drift & shift ( a teensy nighttime routine for the girlies that have a hard time chilling out )

𓆩♡𓆪 — some of my niche (?) DRs

𓆩♡𓆪 — combinations : my CR vs. my DR ( one drink, one eat )

𓆩♡𓆪 — positive affirmations ( vers. holiday )

𓆩♡𓆪 — my girly engagement ring in the multiverse

FRUIT ASK GAME 🍒

— 🍒 the ask game

— 🍎 what i’m best at in my DRs

— 🥑 the most comforting part of my day in my DRs

— 🍅 secrets i’m keeping in my DRs

SLYTHERIN HEADCANONS

pansy parkinson headcanons

theodore nott headcanons

blaise zabini headcanons

blaise zabini headcanons no.2

lorenzo berkshire headcanons

draco malfoy headcanons

SHIFTMAS

𓆩♡𓆪 DAY 1 — a slytherin christmas morning

𓆩♡𓆪 DAY 2 — to the forgotten antechamber

𓆩♡𓆪 DAY 3 — chalet in the alpine mountains

𓆩♡𓆪 DAY 4 — one family Christmas party per year

𓆩♡𓆪 DAY 5 — a gift from the winter woods

𓆩♡𓆪 DAY 6 — mini me music box

𓆩♡𓆪 DAY 7 — the hogwarts christmas feast

𓆩♡𓆪 DAY 8 — christmas cards

𓆩♡𓆪 DAY 9 — an early Saturday afternoon in December

𓆩♡𓆪 DAY 10 — a Slytherin Christmas portrait

𓆩♡𓆪 DAY 11 — the role of Santa (Lorenzo)

𓆩♡𓆪 DAY 12 — recipe for Jade Grimm’s luxe peppermint & dark chocolate elixir

𓆩♡𓆪 DAY 13 — classic wizarding films like ‘Frost and Folly’

𓆩♡𓆪 DAY 14 — a very merry Black Friday

𓆩♡𓆪 DAY 15 — stolen mistletoe kiss

𓆩♡𓆪 DAY 16 — thyra the Christmas kitten

𓆩♡𓆪 DAY 17 — Grimm holiday traditions

𓆩♡𓆪 DAY 18 — slytherin christmas radio

𓆩♡𓆪 DAY 19 — a yuletide gown

𓆩♡𓆪 DAY 20 — Jade Grimm’s silly Santa arsenal

𓆩♡𓆪 DAY 21 — enchanted treats for the holidays

25 DAYS OF SHIFTMAS

౨ৎ … CHRISTMAS CAROLING (DAY 1)

౨ৎ … GINGERBREAD HOUSES (DAY 2)

౨ৎ … EGGNOG (DAY 3)

౨ৎ … SLEDDING (DAY 4)

౨ৎ … SNOWMAN (DAY 5)

౨ৎ … STOCKINGS (DAY 6)

౨ৎ … CANDY CANES (DAY 7)

౨ৎ … MISTLETOE (DAY 8)

౨ৎ … SNOWFLAKES (DAY 9)

౨ৎ … ICICLES (DAY 10)

౨ৎ … TREE SKIRT (DAY 11)

౨ৎ … ORNAMENTS (DAY 12)

౨ৎ … SLEIGH BELLS (DAY 13)

౨ৎ … COOKIE CUTTERS (DAY 14)

౨ৎ … ELF ON THE SHELF (DAY 15)

౨ৎ … WRAPPING PAPER (DAY 16)

౨ৎ … GIFT TAGS (DAY 17)

౨ৎ … SNOWBALLS (DAY 18)

౨ৎ … MITTENS (DAY 19)

౨ৎ … ICE SKATES (DAY 20)

౨ৎ … COAL (DAY 21)

౨ৎ … TINSEL (DAY 22)

౨ৎ … FIR TREE (DAY 23)

౨ৎ … HOT COCOA (DAY 24)

#shifting #shifting to hogwarts #shifting script #shifting motivation #shifting community #shiftblr #shifting blog #reality shifting #shifters #shifting antis dni #shifting diary #shiftinconsciousness #intro post #blog intro #masterlist #navigation #hogwarts scripting #hogwarts dr #harry potter dr

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raindotdrop · 4 months ago

Text

🔞 vergil x reader | whole new breed

‧₊˚♡ summary: you were turned into a devil to save your life after a fatal attack. adapting to this new form has been okay⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯until you experience your first heat.

‧₊˚♡ word count: 2.2k

The transformation you underwent from human to devil, it was never meant to happen. You didn't know it could happen.

You were meant to die months ago, but your lover didn't allow that.

It was a brutal mission. While your fellow hunters were panicking, already grieving you⎯it took Vergil minutes to recite an ancient ritual. The man sacrificed his own flesh like it was nothing, then watched you rise from your bloody spot on the ground, ready to rejoin the fight.

He reduced fate to a joke that day, spitting into death's embrace for trying to claim you. Claiming you is his job.

Your devilish transition has been relatively easy. You look the same, sound the same, act the same. Really, the only difference is your strength. Nothing feels heavy or tiring to you anymore, nothing hurts.

 Except for one thing.

Does it hurt? You aren't sure. It's... distracting, if you had to describe it. Day by day, you've been feeling more feverish. Needy, lonely, grumpy, dripping. You've forgotten the names of everyone else in your life because Vergil is dominating your foggy thoughts.

He's been working for days straight now, leaving you to worsen in your shared bed. Normally, he answers your every demon-related question and tends to you, but he's gone.

Without him present, the mere thought of him leaves you humping whatever smells like him the most. His pillow is drenched in your fluids, his clothes held up to your nose as you orgasm.

An obscene amount of slick pours from between your legs at all times, to the point where you've ditched bottoms. Your nipples are too sensitive to be covered, too. If it's fabric and not your fingers then it hurts.

Something is definitely wrong, but you don't care about all that human side versus demon side junk. You want Vergil. You don't want this frenzy to end on its own, you want him to come home and fuck it out of you.

On his side of the bed, everything is soaked. You're pathetically attempting to finger yourself at different angles and speeds because you're praying you can replicate the way he does it. Laying flat on the sheets is how you've chased your past few highs, any other position is too much of a chore.

His scent is growing stronger, your fingers pump in and out as you're buried face down in a pair of his boxers. The musk is so powerful all of a sudden, it's as if he's there. You're cumming from the intensified smell alone, shaking harder than you have in hours. Nobody warned you about the sensitivity your senses would develop.

Before you even lift your head from the bed, you're blindly reaching out for another piece of clothing to destroy. Someone grabs your wrist before you can.

With a jolt, you look up, and none other than Vergil is looking down at you. He seems to be studying you moreso than anything else.

"So I was off. I predicted your cycle would strike next week, not now..." he muses aloud, but you barely understand him. Despite Vergil being the one to grab your wrist, you've turned the tides so you're clinging onto him instead, both hands gripping him. Almost in disbelief, as if letting go means he'll vanish.

You roll onto your back using his arm as an anchor, revealing your glistening breasts to him. You're trying to tug him down onto you to no avail, whining rather than greeting him. You blink up at him, as he observes the way you leak like a waterfall from his proximity.

"Beautiful," that word kills you inside. You keep yanking at his arm, animalistically, your demonic side obscures every single word you've learned. "I would have relieved you days ago, had I known. Well, I⎯⎯"

"Vergil!" you cry out in frustration, the only word on your tongue.

Pity flashes on his features when he sees how much discomfort you must be in. Vergil had taken up extra work so he could free up his schedule during your first heat. It pains him to see his incorrect calculations lead to this.

Of course, it makes his pants feel tight and fills him with almost as much desire as you (if that's possible), but he wishes he could have guided you through every single step with care, not be invisible while your heat worsened. You must have been so confused...

"Vergil, please!" you snap him from his thoughts. Propped up on your elbows now, your eyes are watering. Sobbing, almost, and you're sucking on his fingers.

Every cell in your body craves him so much, it feels like you're going to explode. The confusion you felt from your heat's onslaught is long gone, replaced with a 'this is so right' feeling the moment Vergil entered the room.

His wet fingers pop from your mouth and stroke your cheek, coating you in your saliva. The affection in that gesture is your saving grace, you know he's going to please you from that touch alone.

"Alright. I won't keep you waiting." he says, his tone is more gravelly now that he's fully realized what he's going to do. This was unexpected, but he isn't objecting whatsoever.

Your body is so sensitive from the amount of climaxes you've inflicted on yourself, that when Vergil begins to shrug his coat off, you can't tell if you actually just orgasmed from the sight or not. The pulses around your body intensify as he reveals his bare arms to you. Do you want to watch him strip, or are you so impatient you want him to just fucking take you already with his clothes barely hanging on? It's unclear. You begin to paw at his thighs, trying to shred the fabric off.

"Eager little thing..." he coos, swatting your hands away so he can undress with no obstacles. He's stripping faster than ever before, but to you, it feels like he's moving in slow motion. Every second that he's not inside of you feels like a thousand years of emptiness. "I'm here now, don't worry." Despite his reassurances, he's the one who's worried, hoping you aren't in any pain.

Once his cock springs out, leaking precum from the feral sight enticing him, you lunge at it. Instantly, the whole length is wrapped around your lips. You're too distracted to properly suck him off, shaky hands touching him with no rhyme or reason.

Vergil chuckles. "Now, this isn't about me," he says, knotting his fingers in your hair so he can pull your mouth off. You put up quite a fight, common sense clouded by desire. Your mouth isn't the hole that's begging for him, it's just the nearest one, so it reaches in without thinking.

"We have time for that another day." The force he had to apply, it has you tumble backwards on the bed. Gasping on your back, you're already kicking at the air, aching to be close again. Drool stains your chin because you just tasted him after imagining it for so long and your body is screaming for seconds.

You see him sitting at the foot of the bed, fully bare. The sheets beneath him are coated in your release. His precum joins the mix as he rakes over your figure, mind racing with thoughts of how he can tame you when you're like this. It's a challenge that leaves his cock straining in the air.

He sternly says your name right before you try crawling back, and you freeze.

"Lay back."

The authority in his tone gets through to you, so you rest your back on the damp pillows. It takes every ounce of self control not to clamber over to him, but you know he's a man who should be listened to.

"Good girl." You twitch. He notices. "I'll fix this. Allow me,"

Relaxing in this state is impossible, but as you lean backward, the shaking in your body eases up. He kneels in front of your quivering form, still searching for any signs of pain, knowing how long your heat was left unchecked.

Your devil side is shrieking at you to touch him, but your human side finally triumphs over it, laying back so he can ravage you. Stilling yourself, breaths steadying...

An experimental hand of Vergil's rubs at your folds and all that progress is undone. You arch into the mass of pillows behind you, whimpering out, "Vergil.. please, more..!"

"I have to see if you're ready." his stern tone remains, guiding you through this the way he always intended to.

He gathers up slick, feeling you up. Obviously, you're wet enough for him to fold you over and pound you right there, but he still has to confirm for himself. Your comfort matters so much to him, even like this. Once he realizes the extent of your wetness, the fact your pussy has been getting stuffed all day, something primal ignites within him.

"I am... please, I'm so.." your begging doesn't even make sense, but the sweet sound of it nearly has Vergil trip over his words, betraying the composed way he presents himself.

"Yes, you're ready. The things you must have done before I arrived..." he trails off, having to stop himself because that imagery is dangerous territory. "You'll have to show me, next cycle."

His toned arms position themselves near your neck, a snug embrace that you nuzzle into. He wants to hold you if he's going to ruthlessly breed you, never letting you forget how much he loves you.

If only he knew that every moment you're alive is a personal reminder of his devotion, whether he's there or not. His ritual, his sacrifice, his refusal to let you die is why you're here. His love for you transcends biology and reality itself. Human or devil, you're his.

His tip smacks at your entrance and it sends you spiralling. His eyes are fixed on your face, so it takes some positioning to find your hole. He's a demon too⎯the way your face is coated in tears, slick, plus a mixture of his spit and yours, drives him absolutely wild and he has to inhale your scent just like you did with his boxers.

"So beautiful," he echoes his previous words as he buries himself to the hilt, your walls all but absorbing him. The tears of joy that stream down your cheeks are kissed away by his busy lips. You begin to utter out a 'please', which he swallows right up. "No need to beg, I'll give you everything."

He kisses you like a man starved, fucking you hard into the mattress. His upper and lower halves work in tandem to make up for lost time, whispering praises and consuming you.

He doesn't have to hold back anymore with your newfound demonic endurance. To say he's drilling you is an understatement. Everything feels shaky but so right. The sensitivity of your heat-riddled body already has you clenching and cumming around him. Less than a minute in, and you're not ashamed. You're already trying to embrace the next one.

"Let it out," he grunts into your jaw, peppering kisses to it to mask his own sounds. He wants to focus on you, not him. Vergil tells himself you'll receive five climaxes minimum before he comes close to his, but you're making it difficult for him. "Let it all out, that's it... let me care for you, my vixen."

One arm holds you close, but the other has a more important role down at your clit. It rubs circles into the nub, and you're fluttering around his cock again. You feel his length twitch uncontrollably in response, on the verge of emptying himself inside you.

Vergil knows he can't actually impregnate you unless in his devil trigger form. He spent time researching how this moment will unfold for you.

"You'll be safe," is how he expresses this to you, unable to hold back any longer.

You're breathless when your walls are splattered with his seed. He spurts and spurts with no sign of stopping⎯your heat absolutely impacts the one you mate with, you discover.

As you're filled, he pulls himself out so the stream of cum can reach your torso as well. Your stomach leading up to your breasts is coated, then your expressive face. If a body part exists, it's marked by him. Vergil's grunts grow louder than your lustful cries for one singular second before he bites your neck to muffle them.

The fire inside of you feels quenched for a few seconds, like you can finally resume your daily life, before it snaps right back to being unbearable.

You rub yourself against Vergil's weeping cock, silently begging for another round. It's not enough. Will anything be enough? You don't see an ending to this rut, just an urgent dream of Vergil stuffing you again. His cum trickling out isn't a finality, it's lubrication for the rest of the night.

Picking up on your unrest, he repositions his hips with ease. "You and I will be here a while," there's another nip to your neck to accompany the rocking of his hips, "best to get comfortable."

#vergil x reader #dmc smut #devil may cry x reader #vergil smut #mine #AAAAAUUUHHGHH

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pink-sparkly-witch · 1 year ago

Text

All She Wants, Part Three (Finale)

Summary: Dean’s experience with the wrong hormone suppressants makes him feral. The only person who can get him out of it and save his life is Y/N, the omega he had been mating with for years until she left six months ago. Without a claim and with no prospects of Dean ever giving her one, Y/N finally had enough and broke the bond they’d forged in their years together and left him, but with Sam now begging her to go to Dean and save his life, will she go, or will she leave the green-eyed alpha to his biological fate?

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Female Omega!Reader

Rating: 18+ Only

Bingo Square: Alpha Gone Feral for @j3bingo

Warnings: tw: dub con claiming, omegaverse, A/B/O, A/B/O dynamics, language, ruts, feral alpha, agitation, aggression, smut, rough sex, biting, oral sex (f rec), fingering, p in v sex, hair pulling, heavy angst, aftercare, fluff

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: Here we go… the super angsty finale of this alpha!Dean mini-series! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite, or leave a little comment. It really does fuel our muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

You can catch up here!

My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi

Y/N’S POV

The knocking on your motel room door startles you, and you grab your gun from the waistband of your jeans and cautiously step towards the door. Flicking the safety off, you place the barrel onto the wood and cautiously open it just enough to see who’s on the other side.

“Sam? Cas?” you gasp, throwing the door open wider.

“You should be more careful, Y/N. We could be demons or shapeshifters or any other kind of monster,” Cas speaks first, and you blink at him, amused, as always, by his directness.

“Nice to see you, too, Cas,” you smirk, opening the door wider to let them in.

“Hey, Y/N,” Sam says as he leans down to hug you. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too, Sam,” you smile as you close the door behind them. You know whatever this unplanned visit is, it’s about Dean.

“You seem healthy,” Cas states, tilting his head to the side and frowning as if searching for something. “And yet—”

“So!” Sam interrupts quickly. “How have you been?”

“Fine…” You narrow your eyes at the alpha’s strange behaviour. “This isn’t a social visit, is it?” You finally ask.

“No,” Cas confirms, and you don’t know if you’re glad he’ll get straight to the point or if you’d prefer Sam to dance around it all a little more.

“Dean.” It’s not a question. It’s a statement. You knew from the way your stomach dropped the second you saw them that this wasn’t a good news visit.

“I asked Cas to find you,” Sam said softly.

You and the younger Winchester have stayed in touch since you left the bunker, but you agreed you wouldn’t tell him where you were, and he wouldn’t ask. It was one thing for Dean to find out they were talking, but it’d be another entirely if he knew Sam knew where she was.

“What happened?” Your mind goes to the worst possible scenario, and you try to fight the rising nausea.

“Dean has been taking store bought suppressants,” Sam says, and you feel your blood boil.

“What? Why? Why would he be so goddamn stupid? Did he know what they’d do to an alpha in his situation?” you fume at the men as you pace the threadbare carpet.

“No. He knew they weren’t suitable long-term, but the side effects he experienced weren’t typical,” Cas answered.

“I thought it was a mix of the drugs and rejection sickness and that it’d ease over time,” Sam says calmly and quietly. “But I think he suffered some kind of chemical reaction to them, and by the time I found out what he was taking, it was too late.”

“Too late? Sam, what are you saying?” You’re terrified of what he’s so anxious to tell you.

“He’s feral, Y/N,” Cas finally puts you out of your misery, and while it’s bad news, it’s not the worst thing they could’ve told you. “But I don’t understand why you are not.”

It’s not an accusation. The angel is just curious about alphas who mate with but don’t claim omegas. To his literal knowledge, an alpha finds an omega, they mate, there’s a claim, an unbreakable bond, and pups. Your situation with Dean had always intrigued the celestial being.

“Because I’ve been taking the suppressants I should. Prescribed by a doctor. Why didn’t he do the same thing?” Contrary to the angel’s question, yours is accusatory as you look between Sam and Cas.

“You know what he’s like, Y/N. He doesn’t talk about these things, and I didn’t know until a few days ago. He’s been overcome with guilt for how he treated you, and I think…” Sam trails off, noticing from the look on your face that you know what he was alluding to.

“You think this is some kind of self-sacrifice?” you ask in disbelief. Dean is well known for his self-depreciation, and it’s something you’ve seen and heard from him many times, but this? “No… No, I don’t believe that. Why would he put himself through that just to go feral anyway? Why not just lie down and let it happen on its own?”

“You really want me to answer that?” Sam asks, and you frown.

“Sam, you can’t be serious! Dean is not doing this to punish himself for hurting me. There’s no way,” you argue, but you know the green-eyed alpha better than he knows himself. It does sound like something he’d do to himself—some kind of fucked up repentance for his behaviour.

Sam only shrugs, and you sigh, knowing you’ve both come to the same conclusion.

“So, what? You want me to go to him? Get him out of this mess?”

“You’re his mate. Only you can get him back from this,” Cas says, and you laugh bitterly, taking the angel by surprise.

“I bet Dean loves that!” you scoff. “Anytime I told him that like it or not, we’re mates, he shot me down in flames!”

“I know he hurt you, and I can’t imagine how hard this is for you, and Dean knows it too. He told me not to look for you. That he doesn’t deserve your help, but I’m asking you to think about it. Please?”

“I don’t know, Sam. If I go to him, you know what it means, right?” you check, not convinced either of them fully understand what they’re asking of you.

“I do,” Sam responds.

“And you know it’s pretty much a done deal that he’ll claim me in his feral haze? And then when he comes to, he’ll regret it and reject me? You’re asking me to sacrifice myself for him? Because I won’t survive his rejection, you both know that, right?”

“He’d never reject you, Y/N,” Cas confirms what you know in your heart, but it brings no comfort.

“Oh, because a forced claim and being stuck with someone who doesn’t want me is a better fate than dying from rejection!”

“He does want you. He loves you. He just can’t—” Sam starts, but you interrupt with a scoff.

“Give me what I want. I know, Sam. He’s told me that so many times it’s imprinted in my memory!” You huff, quickening your pacing.

You want to say no. You want to protect yourself and your fragile heart that’s still trying to heal, but you know if you were the feral one, Dean would already be here, doing everything he could to get you through it—even claiming you just so you’d survive.

He doesn’t deserve to die, and yet, you don’t deserve to be someone’s mistake, but you can’t see any other option. If you don’t go to him, he’ll die. If you go to him, and he doesn’t reject you, you’ll be miserable, but you’ll both be alive.

“Fuck!” you yell in frustration. Once again, you feel that self-loathing that only Dean seems able to bring out of you. You hate yourself because you still love him even after everything, and you’d sacrifice everything to save him.

“Where is he?”

Walking up to the secluded cabin, you shiver at the deathly silence surrounding you. As if being this deep in the woods isn’t ominous enough, there isn’t even a bird chirping or an insect buzzing in the heavy air.

You’re so deep in the woods that the midday sun can’t even breach the trees. You drove as close as you could, but you’d had to abandon your car about a mile back. This is probably the safest house Bobby had ever found, and you have to admire Dean for choosing this one to hide out in.

Sam had given you the key. At first, you’d been shocked he’d lock Dean in with no way to escape, but you knew feral alphas aren’t to be taken lightly. There had been cases of ferals going on murder sprees, and the green-eyed hunter would never risk putting people in any kind of danger.

“Dean?” you call out as you knock on the door. “It’s Y/N. Sam found me. He said you need my help.” With no response, you take a deep breath, preparing yourself for being too late, and put the key in the lock.

Pushing the door open slowly, the sour smell of Dean’s feral rut slams into you, and immediately your body begins to respond to the distressed alpha. Your skin tingles, heat floods your veins, and slick pools at your entrance. You’ve never been more grateful for a heat to come on as you are now. If it didn’t, Dean could seriously hurt or even kill you trying to get himself out of this.

“Omega,” Dean growls from the doorway of the bedroom and with one look at his bloodshot eyes, you know there’s little to no humanity in him right now.

“Alpha,” you whimper and bow your head in submission.

“Mine,” he groans in front of you, and you jump, having not heard him move across the room.

Dean buries his head in your neck and inhales your scent, gasping as if he’d been suffocating, and your scent is his oxygen.

“My ‘mega,” Dean snarls and slams you against the wooden door. You whimper at the pain and remind yourself not to fight. If you fight, things could get ugly.

Pawing at your jeans, he tries to undo them, but in his desperation to get at you, he can’t grasp the little brass button and punches the wall next to your head in frustration.

“Hey,” you purr, placing a hand on his cheek and smiling as he leans into your touch, “It’s okay, Alpha. Let me.”

Loosening the button and pulling the zipper down, you kick off your shoes, slide the denim from your legs and step out of them. Moving to your shirt, you begin pulling at the material when Dean slaps your hands away.

“No!” he growls. “Mine.”

Dean isn’t gentle when he claws at your shirt, grabbing the neckline with both hands and ripping the cotton from your body. The groan that rumbles from his belly when your lace-covered breasts are exposed to his gaze has slick soaking through your underwear.

He wastes no time placing his lips on the tops of your breasts, biting and sucking the sensitive skin, marking you in a way he never has before. Dean pulls the cups of your bra down and quickly finds a hard nipple, and you groan from his overzealous assault.

You whine as the alpha pulls away from you, but before you can complain further, Dean lifts you on his shoulder and carries you to the bedroom.

“Strip,” he orders as he places you back on your feet, and you don’t dare disobey or take your time removing your bra and panties.

“Good girl,” he praises as he takes his clothes off, and you wonder if just being here is making him a little less feral. “Get on the bed, Omega.”

Again, you don’t dare take your time and quickly crawl onto the bed and wait for his next instruction. Dean kneels at the bottom of the bed, pulls you down by your ankles, and pushes your knees down to the mattress.

“Mine,” he growls as the scent of your slick reaches him, and he lowers his head between your legs. He’s not gentle, anything but, and his longer stubble scratches and jabs at your soft, sensitive skin. It’s sore, yet you quickly fall apart on his mouth.

Before you fully come down from your high, Dean’s fingers are inside you, and he’s sucking and biting his way up your body. When this is over, your skin will be an interesting spectrum of colour; you can already see patches of red on your breasts from earlier, and Dean’s not done with them yet as he goes back to sucking and biting your nipples.

As your forced heat takes over, the pain from Dean’s bites and rough hands ease, and all you can feel and hear now is desire and pleasure and growls and snarls, and Dean, mumbling mine over and over again while his teeth nip at your neck.

“Present, Omega,” Dean growls as he pulls back from your body just enough to let you turn around. You crawl further up the bed and lean forward onto your elbows. You unintentionally wiggle your ass as you get comfortable in your new position, making Dean growl deeply and spank your round cheeks.

You feel his hands slide up your thighs and over your ass. His touch soothes and cools your heated skin. When he finally slams into your slick, aching pussy, it’s hard, rough, and deliciously painful.

Dean is fully feral, and there’ll be no stopping him until he comes out of the rut in five or six days. You know it won’t be pretty, and you won’t come out of this unscathed. At least your heat is making you feel like a wanton whore.

As your humanity is overtaken by omega, much like Dean’s is with alpha, your last thought is being grateful for being in a cabin in the middle of the woods, in the middle of nowhere.

It’s been six days, and Dean still pounds into you like there’s no tomorrow. Your heat is starting to wane, but hasn’t subsided so much that you won’t still be pliable under his hands. Still, at least the heat fog is beginning to lift, and you hope it’s a sign that Dean’s rut is finally ending.

It took four knots to get him out of his feral state, but his rut is intense, and he’s insatiable. You suppose the combination of suppressants and being feral will do that to an alpha.

“‘Mega,” Dean grunts as his hand slides up your spine and grips your neck. “So good for me, baby girl.”

His praise makes you purr, and you feel his hand slide from your neck into your hair and wrap his fist around it, making your body turn to jelly. Dean tugs your hair, and you’re forced to raise to your knees, your back pressed against his chest, and he pulls your head to the side by your hair, exposing your neck to him.

It’s already black and blue from the gnawing he’s been doing there this past week, but this is different. He’s scenting you and licking your mating gland and whining. Dean loves licking and kissing your neck, but not like this. It feels different. There’s a change in the atmosphere, and his thrusts are brutal and stuttered.

You try to move, try and get him away from you, but he snarls and yanks your hair painfully, keeping a hold of it so you can’t move.

“Dean,” you whimper, and he snarls again at the use of his name, and you know he’s not as far out of this rut as you’d hoped. “Alpha, please,” you beg, but it’s useless. He’s too far gone again. His mouth is sucking on your mating gland, and he’s growling and grunting as his knot swells and catches at your entrance.

“Please don’t do it, Alpha. It’s just the rut. You don’t want this… you don’t want me, please!” you cry. But as his knot slips inside, locking you together, your head falls back on his shoulder, and when his teeth break your skin, you scream your release and lose the little self-control you had earlier.

Coming down from your high, you notice that Dean is still latched onto you, and you can feel blood dripping down your neck. The sudden rush of hormones and pheromones from the claim makes you reach another orgasm, and this time, you take the alpha with you. Grunting and growling, Dean’s release coats your walls, and you let the blackness take over.

When you come to, you’re on your side, and Dean is cleaning and soothing the wound on your neck with gentle licks and soft kisses. You’re still locked together, and every twitch of his cock catches your G-spot and fills your womb with even more of his seed.

A brief thought that he could’ve gotten you pregnant crosses your mind, and you hope the fates aren’t so cruel as to have this be when you get your wish of pups; not like this.

The last week finally catches up with you, and the lullaby of Dean’s whines and whimpers, combined with his soft kisses, lull you into a deep sleep.

The sun’s warmth on your face begins to wake you from sleep. Your muscles feel heavy, and Dean’s lips caress your back and shoulders.

“Morning, Omega,” he rasps behind you, sliding a warm hand over your hip, and a pang of dread settles in your stomach. You’re tired, every muscle in your body is screaming at you, and your pussy is in agony from a week of rough pounding and knots courtesy of the alpha pulling you closer to his body. If he’s still not out of this rut, you don’t think you’ll survive another round.

“Don’t worry,” Dean chuckles. “I’m not feral anymore, and the rut has gone.”

You’re confused, wondering how he knew what you were thinking. You don’t think you groaned. In fact, you’re pretty sure you didn’t even move. Your body is too sore to even tense up.

Then you remember Dean claimed you and that he did it while in a feral rut.

As your whole world comes crashing down around you, you do the one thing you’d rather die than do in front of Dean.

Cry.

DEAN’S POV

Devastation. That’s all he can feel radiating from the omega next to him. When he woke an hour ago, he’d been happier than ever. The second he claimed Y/N, there was a shift, and all felt right in the world.

He thought—naively, he now realises—Y/N would be happy. It’s what she wanted. What she needed, but the sheer anguish from her tells a different story. The worst part of all this is the shame he feels for claiming her without her consent and the knowledge that now, she’s stuck with him whether she wants to be or not.

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s gonna be okay,” Dean tries to soothe her and presses his lips to her shoulder. “Y/N, look at me, please?” She remains on her side, facing away from him and crying, and the alpha in him takes over. His omega is in distress, and he needs to fix it. “Omega, look at me!” he growls lowly, and watches as Y/N obeys his order and timidly rolls onto her back.

Dean’s jaw drops, and he’s disgusted with himself as he takes in her abused torso. There are a couple of bites and bruises on her back and shoulders, but it’s nothing compared to what covers her neck, breasts and stomach. There’s so much bruising that barely any skin has been left unblemished. As he scans further down her body, he can see the same damage over the tops of her thighs and between her legs.

“Baby girl, I’m so sorry. I—” Dean can’t finish; he has no words for what he did to her. He immediately gets out of bed and fills the tub with hot water. There’s only so much he can do for her out here in the cabin, but the safe house is stocked with first aid supplies, medication and dry and tinned food.

When the tub is full, he shuts off the water and walks back into the bedroom, seeing Y/N still lying on her back and seemingly void of all emotion. Whether it’s on purpose to shut him out or she’s in shock, Dean’s not sure.

Walking over, Dean lifts her from the bed and carries her into the bathroom. He lowers her into the hot water and bathes her gently, mumbling words of comfort, hoping she can hear him and that she can find it in her to forgive him.

Y/N’S POV

After tenderly bathing you, Dean left you to soak in the warm water a little longer, telling you there were clothes in the wardrobe and that he’d make something to eat.

“Please eat with me, omega. You need to get your strength up, and we need to talk,” Dean had begged before he left, closing the door but not fully so he could still keep an eye on you.

He was right; you do need to talk. And eat. You feel weak and lightheaded and desperately in need of something to take away the pain that’s pulsing through every inch of your body.

When the water has lost its warmth, you climb out and wrap yourself in a towel, avoiding the mirror in the corner. Dean’s reaction earlier is enough for you to know you’ll burst into tears if you see it for yourself. And you can’t bear to see his claim on your neck when it was given under duress.

Pulling clothes from the wardrobe, you choose the softest and biggest things you can find. You know from the smell that the sweats and t-shirt are Dean’s, but you’ve always gotten comfort from his scent, and you suspect you’ll get even more from it now.

Coming out of the bedroom, you follow the noise towards the main part of the cabin and find Dean spooning pasta into bowls in the kitchen.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” he asks, stopping what he’s doing to give you his full attention.

“Sore,” you chuckle, pulling out a stool. You hiss and wince, the throbbing—and not the good kind—between your legs getting worse for a few seconds as you sit.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean… I hate that I was so rough. That I’ve hurt you,” Dean says as he pushes a bowl and fork towards you.

“You were feral, Dean. It’s not your fault,” you reply, and you mean it. It’s really not his fault.

“It is, though, sweetheart. If I had taken the right suppressants, I wouldn’t have gone feral, and I wouldn’t have claimed you without your consent.”

“I knew what I was signing up for when I came here. I’m just sorry you’re stuck with me,” you smile sadly. “And if you want to leave, I get it. I know I’m not what you want—”

“Would you stop saying that?” Dean interrupts. “I do want you. I have always wanted you. I’m scared that tying you to me will put you in danger.” The desperation rolls from him in waves, and you know he’s telling you the truth. You can feel it. “I want you, Omega. I want this. I don’t regret claiming you. I regret doing it against your will, and if you want to leave me… reject me… It’s what I deserve, and I’ll let you walk out of here right now, but please stop saying that I don’t want you, Y/N. You’re all I want.”

The chemical bond you now share with Dean is overwhelming. He feels more deeply than he ever lets on, and regret over the non-consensual claim is putting it mildly. He’s distraught over it, and his feelings are so strong that you can almost hear the thoughts in his head telling him he’s stupid and he’s fucked things up before it’s really started between you. You can’t take it. You can’t let him think you don’t want this too.

“You’re all I want too, Alpha. The reason I got so upset when I realised you could feel how I felt is because it was a rut claim, and we’d be stuck together and miserable and resentful, and I didn’t want that for either of us, but I could never reject you, Dean. I love you too much.”

The relief that washes over him makes you smile, and because of your new bond, you know he knows every word is true.

“I love you, Y/N. I’m sorry I couldn’t admit it before, and I’m sorry I didn’t give you what you wanted sooner.” Dean slides off his stool and comes to your side with a tube of cream in his hand. “Now, let me see that claim. It needs something on it, sweetheart.”

You tilt your head to the side and pull the neck of the shirt down, exposing the angry, swollen bite mark. Dean gently covers the wound with the medicated cream, and you hiss at the sting.

“Sorry, baby girl.” Dean winces, feeling your discomfort as clearly as you can. “Now, eat and then bed, Omega.”

“Just to sleep, right?” you ask, scrunching up your face and wriggling in your seat at the thought of him going anywhere near your pussy for at least a week. “No sex?”

“No sex,” Dean laughs. “You need to rest, sweetheart, so just lots of cuddles and closeness and bonding and sleep.”

THE END

Tags: @acitygrownwillow @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @nelachu2423 @octoberclidan @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567

#j3bingo #omegaverse #a/b/o universe #alpha!dean winchester x omega!reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o

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charliemwrites · 9 months ago

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Three to Flee

Commission from the very sweet @ignoreprotocol

Someone leaves the door open and the pets get out.

Content Warning: Established kidnapping situation, unhealthy relationships, collaring

Author's Note: This does not mean Keeper/Kept is back. As far as I'm concerned, that story is finished, but this was a special case.

Shockingly, it’s not Feral that brings it up first.

The girls are having a little picnic at the edge of Johnny and Shy Thing’s yard, shaded by the tall trees. The men are chatting on the porch, sharing cigars and whiskey, far from earshot. Good behavior has earned them this bit of privacy, and so far, they’ve just used it to exchange keeper notes and offer bedroom advice.

“I can’t believe you don’t even have a fence,” Good Girl muses, glancing at the forest beyond. Her own yard is well fortified. It’s not just the sturdy, unclimbable fence, but also the monitors and floodlights connected to it.

Shy Thing sheepishly mentions a failed escape attempt several months earlier, a mad dash through the woods that ended with her dirty and disciplined. That prompts Good Girl to confess her own ill-fated getaway, a midnight attempt at sneaking out that resulted in a bruised ass.

Feral listens with her head cocked, nibbling at her apple slices. When their eyes turn to her, she shrugs.

“I haven’t tried to leave in a while,” she admits, “but I don’t think it would go well.”

Good Girl frowns. “How do you know if you haven’t tried?”

Feral snorts. “You’ve met Simon, haven’t you?”

All eyes turn to the boys on the porch. And there’s Simon, watching. Feral makes a rude gesture his way and they can see his shoulders shaking with a chuckle.

“Besides… it’s not so bad,” she muses. “Most of the time.”

Good Girl sits back, expression twisting. “I don’t want it to be ‘not so bad,’ I want it to be good. And I want it that way all the time.”

Shy Thing shifts. “What’s so wrong with John…?”

Good Girl huffs and begins picking at threads in the blanket. “He’s… fine. I mean, he would be if I could just leave. Don’t you miss being free?”

Feral hums.

“I… I miss going to the store when I wanted… or just… walking around town,” Shy Thing admits slowly. “I miss coffee shops and parks.”

Good Girl groans in agreement. “I miss the internet. It’s like being a fucking teenager again, having all my activity monitored.”

With a little more momentum now, Shy Things continues, “I haven’t been alone in months. Just… by myself. Doing whatever I want.”

“And not having rules,” Good Girl adds, sipping at the mojito John put in a little travel cup for her. “Fucking… sick of having a bedtime and chores and a fucking collar. Aren’t you sick of it?”

It’s directed at both of them, but Shy Thing nods, hands fidgeting.

“It gets to be a lot sometimes,” she mumbles, “I think I warmed up to Johnny out of pure exhaustion.”

Good Girl huffs again, worked into a proper fuss now. “And they’re so smug about it. Like we’re just these good, trained pets.”

Feral pipes up, “We could leave together.”

Both girls swivel to her with varying degrees of shock, hope, and disbelief.

“You said you didn’t think you could get past Simon,” Good Girl says.

Feral snorts and stretches out on her stomach in a mottled patch of sunlight creeping through the leaves.

“Yeah, I couldn’t on my own,” she explains, “but between the three of us…”

It’s uncomfortably simple when it happens. They just need to wait until the next big mission.

All three of them beg (or in Feral’s case, demand) to spend that time together while the keepers are away. It’s not unusual for the creatures to meet up when one or more of the men are gone. With all three off on a mission this time, they sniffle about being lonely and wanting company. That their houses feel too big and empty, that cooking for one is depressing.

Johnny caves instantly; John agrees on the stipulation that Good Girl is on her best behavior before he leaves. Simon, of course, is a foregone conclusion.

They go to Simon’s house. It’s the safest of the three homes and has the most space. Not to mention the girls will have some sort of access to the outside with the enclosed sunporch.

On the day of the mission, Good Girl and Shy Thing show up with fully packed bags, ready for their extended “sleepover” with Feral. The pets see their boys off, behave as normal for the cameras until Shy Thing gets the “heading out” message from Johnny. That’s the greenlight.

Feral has her own bag of things that she packs quickly and expertly. They fill a fourth bag with nonperishable provisions, just in case. Each of them has cash that they filched last minute from their keepers’ wallets – knowing they wouldn’t check them just before a classified mission.

The girls know it’ll be a day or two before anyone checks on them. Even Kyle is away with the team this time.

And then it all comes down to walking out the door.

The front door is, of course, locked. All the windows have alarms on them, and so does the garage door. But the sunporch…

“He didn’t lock the door,” Feral realizes as it swings open. And the alarm only engages when it’s locked.

All three of them take a single step out into the open air. And stop. Stare at each other a little moon-eyed.

They just left.

They stride at a quick clip around the side of the house and down the road. It’ll be an hour-long walk into town, but they have thick coats and each other for company. They chatter as they follow the pavement, just within the tree line out of caution. Pretend its giddy celebration at their escape and not a distraction from the creeping mix of dread and uncertainty beginning to simmer within each of them.

When they reach town, they blend into the crowds, weaving through the streets until they find a low-end hotel. It won’t be anything fancy, but at least it seems clean enough. Good Girl does all the talking with the receptionist (also a lady, thank god) since Feral and Shy Thing are jittery from so many people. They get a one-bed room with easy access to the fire exit.

It’s only after they’re inside that reality sinks its claws in.

They’re free. For the first time in months, they’re outside with no one standing behind their shoulders or holding their arms. No one to appease, nothing to behave for.

And Shy Thing throws up in the toilet.

“This is scary,” she wheezes, eyes watering. “I’m scared. I want—”

Though she stops, the other two know what the end of that sentence was. Good Girl rubs her back.

“Don’t worry, they’re not going to find us,” she soothes like she doesn’t know why Shy Thing is really scared.

Neither Shy Thing nor Feral reply. The answer hangs in the air, unspoken. We want them to.

Feral, feeling restless, goes back into the main room and begins rummaging through her bag.

“What are you doing?” Good Girl asks, giving Shy Thing privacy to clean up.

“Looking for something to cut that off with.” Feral nods to Good Girl’s collar. “It’s probably chipped or something. We should have taken it off at home.”

She stops as the blood drains from her fellow creature’s face. They stare at each other across the tiny motel room, the weight of their successful plan pressing heavier and heavier with each passing second.

“I…” Good Girl rasps, “I…”

“You don’t want to.”

Her eyes well with tears. “No.”

Feral drops her bag and crumples to the ground, tugging her knees up to her chest.

“Why don’t I want to?” Good Girl whispers, curling her arms around herself. “This… this was my idea. I complain all the time. Why do I miss him already?”

Shy Thing appears in the doorway, sniffling. “I-I don’t know if I can do this. I can’t imagine life without Johnny. I… I don’t know if I want to have a life without Johnny.”

And Feral, still on the floor and trembling all over, just looks at them with huge tears running down her face.

Needless to say, when three rather miffed keepers in full combat gear throw the door open at 3am, they are not expecting armfuls of distraught creatures sobbing into their chests.

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #dark fic #commissioned work #commission #keeper/kept au #keeper price #keeper ghost #keeper johnny

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calliesmemes · 3 months ago

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DARKNESS STILL HAUNTS YOUR NARRATIVE

ASSORTED ASKBOX PROMPTS from various sources with dark and / or unsettling themes. The ominous feeling from before is still there, and its prominence has only grown …

* TRIGGERING THEMES MAY BE PRESENT, such as death, wealth inequality, and war. Please exercise caution and curate your space accordingly.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed

SPECIFY muse for multimuses

❛ When I look at a person, I see a person — not a rank, not a class, not a title. ❜

❛ What a strange girl you are. ❜

❛ History is written by the rich, and so the poor get blamed for everything. ❜

❛ I could corrupt you. It would be easy. ❜

❛ How many centuries deep is your wound? ❜

❛ You’ll be remembered more for what you destroy than what you create. ❜

❛ Bitter are the wars between brothers. ❜

❛ Power comes with a price. ❜

❛ Your power might destroy you if you don’t learn to control it. ❜

❛ I’m not going to let you anywhere near a battlefield! ❜

❛ War is sweet to those who have never fought. ❜

❛ Cowardice is everywhere in this country. ❜

❛ Which appeals to you more? Power, or love? ❜

❛ Inside my head, the war is everywhere. ❜

❛ You look like your grief and guilt and rage are eating you alive, bit by bit. ❜

❛ Good and evil are a question of perspective. ❜

❛ The only difference between martyrdom and suicide is the press coverage. ❜

❛ Your place is at home; you will fight another day. ❜

❛ How many more children do we have to sacrifice in this war? ❜

❛ When you talk to the dead, the dead will talk back. They’re always there, even if you can’t hear them. ❜

❛ I am half child, half ancient. ❜

❛ You’re like me. You’ve seen too much, too young. ❜

❛ Every word from your mouth, every turn of phrase, will be judged — and possibly used against you. ❜

❛ I prefer the most unfair peace over the most righteous war. ❜

❛ A love like ours could burn down a city. ❜

❛ In my experience, men only call women ‘mad’ when they are doing something inconvenient. ❜

❛ I will do anything to keep you safe from harm. ❜

❛ You wield an incredible amount of power with just your voice. ❜

❛ You know, everything old can be made new again. Like democracy. ❜

❛ You laugh like a little girl, and think like a martyr. ❜

❛ What is a home if not the first place you learn to run from? ❜

❛ Do you understand what it means when you have nowhere else to turn? ❜

❛ The war is never over. ❜

❛ We are products of our past, but we don’t have to be prisoners of it. ❜

❛ I dream of the past as if it were yet to come. ❜

❛ You have endured terrible suffering, haven’t you? ❜

❛ Your beauty terrifies me. ❜

❛ This is war — you never know who’s listening. ❜

❛ This is a land of dreams and madness, where childrens’ stories come to life. ❜

❛ The Earth is littered with the ruins of empires that believed they were eternal. ❜

❛ I’ll never get used to being alive. ❜

❛ We’ve been fighting this battle for too long. ❜

❛ We swore we’d never bow to tyranny. ❜

❛ Young men fall, I see their agony. ❜

❛ We all carry things inside us that no one else can see. ❜

❛ Your suffering can’t end until you stop identifying with it. ❜

❛ You have to be a bit of a liar to tell the story the right way. ❜

❛ I’m so afraid of losing something I love that I refuse to love anything. ❜

❛ You collect scars because you want proof that you’re paying for whatever sins you’ve committed. ❜

❛ You can escape reality, but you can’t escape the consequences of escaping reality. ❜

❛ Is that all you want to be? Liked? Wouldn’t you rather be passionately and voraciously desired? ❜

❛ Sorrow found me when I was young. ❜

❛ The very heavens conspire against me! ❜

❛ Do you like the person that you’ve become under the weight of living? ❜

❛ The evil that men do lives on long after they themselves have gone. ❜

❛ You are not safe here. ❜

❛ I don’t know any places I can hide from the voices that are tearing me apart from the inside. ❜

❛ I am not a legend; I’m a fraud. ❜

❛ Destiny is a worrying concept. I don’t want to be fated; I want to choose. ❜

❛ I am not merciful, and I am not kind. ❜

❛ Until the lion learns how to write, every story will glorify the hunter. ❜

❛ Vulnerability is courage in you and inadequacy in me. ❜

❛ You cannot save people. You can only love them. ❜

❛ This isn’t going to be like last time. ❜

#askbox meme #askbox prompt #rp ask meme #roleplay sentence meme #sentence starters #ask box #roleplay prompts #roleplay sentence starters #* sentence meme #rpc help

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cecilscribbles · 1 month ago

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i wonder if ford will eventually pass away while bill is still stuck in the theraprism. i wonder if there'd be a gentle knock at bill's door and a soft voice to deliver the news, i wonder what it would say, i wonder if it would want to comfort him or break him or want nothing at all. i wonder how long he'd stand silent in the middle of that dim white room. i wonder if he'd cry. i wonder if he'd scream, i wonder if he'd do nothing at all, i wonder if he'd laugh, i wonder if and how he'd come to terms with the fact that the one thing in the whole goddamn multiverse that deserved saving is trapped and buried low and he's being consumed and broken by something other than his muse his enemy his armageddon his undoing, something other than you- his mind is being eaten by rot. the stars are dying and there's nothing you can do about it. nothing pulls the rug out from beneath your feet like the one constant in your life, a perfect divine eternal thing succumbing to a mortal fate. how do you not drop to your knees, beg to whatever gods there are left in the sky for salvation? and how long would it take you to realise that no one's going to answer?

#whatever i don't care #I DON'T CARE!!!!!!!!!!!!!#gravity falls #bill cipher #ford pines #billford #tw death #tw grief #i guess

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meanbossart · 11 months ago

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I gotta ask this has been rattling in my brain for a while.

How did your DU drow react when Astarion asked him for help with the ritual? What were his thoughts? Or was he simply like stop it, no, we aren't doing that. OH, How did you picture your Astarion and DU Drow react after he "died" and was brought back? I know that we don't really get that much dialogue or reaction from the companions when that happens (Praying they add something later down the line in another patch)

Again thank you for sharing your beautiful art and fanfic with all of us its so refreshing to see!!! :)

OHOHOHO I'm glad you asked. I feel like that first question is very revealing of DU drow's character and It was a fun moment to ponder upon, because I think much of his behavior might lead one to believe he would be willing to go along with whatever Astarion wants, instead of pushing back at all, at least on the surface.

There's two factors at play here - first, DU drow knows of his heritage at that point, and thanks to the blank-slate treatment of the tadpole he's gotten a brand new perspective on it by the time he learns of the truth. Prior to losing his memories, accepting the fate that Bhaal had bestowed onto him felt like a choice and the best thing that ever happened to him in life, a confirmation that he was special and destined for greatness instead of just damned to the lowly existence he had endured so far. After his brain is scrambled however, DU drow got a taste of what true freedom feels like while unburdened by his upbringing; he's strong, he's powerful, he's self-sufficient, he enjoys the fruits of his labor without appreciating what got him here - he does not feel like he needs Bhaal, and the fact he ever did is laughable at best and violating at worse. This leads him to abhor the idea of depending on higher power to succeed instead of just raising oneself up by their own merits, or abiding by any mentality where you take orders from a source.

So when Astarion speaks of ascension, and especially after he learns of the source of that power (Infernal magic) he's disillusioned by it. While his memories are still hazy, the situation still feels awfully familiar to him. He doesn't think Astarion needs that higher power because he doesn't, either, and to take it would surrendering to fear and giving away even more of his autonomy than he already has.

And if that sounds a little self centered and like he's missing some of the point, it's because he is. While DU drow has fallen in love with Astarion by that stage in the story and wants what's best for him (he actually entertains the idea of him ascending up to a point - he wants him to be happy) he still has a difficult time empathizing with others. Ascending feels like a bad choice, but he can only justify that feeling from his own, narrow perspective.

(I mused on about characterization for too long again. So more under the cut - the sky is blue the sun is hot etc.)

Then there's the uglier, far more vulnerable and knee-jerk reaction to it. Now that Bhaal is no longer his purpose in life or the gift he once felt it to be, Astarion has taken it's place. Bhaal needed DU drow, in his eyes, much like Astarion does now. And as much as the vampire might have told him that his feelings on the matter changed (and that he was no longer manipulating DU drow for his own ends alone) he can't fathom a reason to be kept around unless he continues to be needed. He has slotted himself as Astarion's protector and devotee, and a vampire lord does not sound like they need much of either.

As much as he would never admit to it, DU drow does not know a life where he doesn't pledge himself, body and soul, to another purpose. He seems like he's happy to barrel through life directionless, but he needs something that anchors him or he has an inexplicable feeling that something terrible will happen. And honestly, maybe he's right - for a man who loves killing, he has a much easier time applying some strategy to that desire as long as he's doing it to some an specific end. Without Astarion, he probably feels like his choices are to either submit to his hedonism entirely or just lie down and die.

I don't need to spell out that this is pure codependency at it's finest.

So, when Astarion asks for help to complete the ritual he is conflicted. He wants to do whatever Astarion wants, but his brain is setting off alarm bells that, if he acquiesces, this will be the end for them and for him. And whatever comes after is a terrifying void of nothing. While he loves Astarion and ultimately does the right choice in pleading with him to give up on this power, his motivations are far from selfless or pure, as much as DU drow may not yet realize it.

This is why, after everything takes place, and specially once he severs his connection to Bhaal and his mind clears a little further, DU drow would go on to grapple with a lot of guilt for taking this opportunity away from Astarion, as I have touched on in the fic and will continue to do so. He's happy to feel like he has a reason to be kept around, but the inevitable hurdles that Astarion must continue to face as a spawn are obviously painful to witness. This is why he dives full force into trying to "fix" his vampirism instead, following that.

NOW, FOR THE NEXT AND HOPEFULLY FAR BRIEFER ANSWER TO YOUR OTHER QUESTION (spoiler alert, it's not brief at all, god damn it):

Yeah everyone just standing around in that scene feels little weird LOL not that it took away too much from how dope a cutscene it was (I probably watched it with the attentiveness of a sport's fan witnessing a footbal game turning in the last 10 minutes of a match) but If I were to embellish it instead of just going with something like "everyone is shell-shocked and paralyzed", I would say Shadowheart is the first to rush over to see if there's anything at all she can do to help, and probably the first (and only, in that moment) to break down crying. I think she very quickly composes herself after he's brought back, tells him he gave her the scare of a fucking lifetime and that he's the luckiest idiot in all of the realms - but that she's glad he's back. No hugs for him though LOL

Astarion is pretty much the opposite, that he would stand there in shock feels kind of apt to me. Like, holy shit, what just happened? Did one of the only good things in my life really just get taken away in the blink of an eye? Am I just cursed to have everything snatched away from my hand as soon as I'm growing comfortable with it? Yes, of course I am. What else did I expect. When DU drow pops back up he's probably like "Oh yeah I knew it'd be fine" (plus the little Twee comment, that was very funny to me.) and DU drow is similarly going "Oh definitely, it was my plan all along to be killed and then resurrected by an ominous house-keeper skeleton this whole time. Anyway, smooch for a dead man?"

This... Clearly very traumatic little incident is probably addressed by them only later. He gets a kiss and a hug at camp and a very stern "if you do that shit again I'm raising you back up just to kill you myself" from Astarion and Shadowheart's just down to drink in celebration and drown her trauma away for now lmao.

OH YEAH AND GALE WAS ALSO THERE. There was a whole Gale debacle in my playthrough but, the TL;DR, is that especially towards the end of the game he was Not in the best of terms with DU drow. Still, I obviously think he's an empathetic person and had his own "oh shit" moment. I'd say he takes this opportunity to try extending a very sincere hand out to him later that day, both for his courage in defying a god and dumb-luck - which DU drow completely passes on like an asshole and just gives him a cold-shoulder about, leaving feeling even more dejected than he already was and probably further cementing his choice to pursue the crown of Karsus later, despite DU drow's disapproval. Good job buddy!

Thank you so much for the ask and for your lovely compliments!!! Sorry for writing you a dang ESSAY 😬

#ask #du drow #DU drow lore #about time I start using a tag like that #bg3 spoilers

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alta1red · 11 months ago

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HAZBIN HOTEL . IMAGINE . II 'The Darling Artisan from the Clouds'.

𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀 : [ NAME. ] Is exploring Pentagram City, and runs into a certain Radio Demon..

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 : [ NAME. ]'s luck might either be the worst, or the best no in-between . Alastor being a creep . OOC Alastor . Small amount of dialogue .

𝑷𝑻. : II.

— Well, congrats ! You somehow managed to avoid probably all the wrong kinds of people in Hell ( that being certainly 99% of its total population.. ) , was it due to sheer luck? Or by some stupid twist of fate something else awaits you in your path? Maybe, maybe not.

• As you wandered the streets of Hell and witnessed around One.. Hundred incidents of violence, abuse, prostitution, people getting mugged and drug dealing —You remained peaceful (?), ( you held your art matierials closer to your figure. ) although your inspiration did take abit of a dark turn in its source. Your cloak, and subtle presence helped you alot in hiding your angelic features .

• But your presence certainly didn't manage to slip by a certain .. Shadow Minion of a Radio Demon.

• 'It', 'He'? Observed you with careful precision, you certainly didn't think you'd be able to just waltz around in Hell unnoticed, did you? As you wandered mindlessly through Pentagram City blissfully and ignorantly prancing around as you gazed at horrid theatrics.

• How interesting ! Oh how 'His' smile got even wider ,

• As you accidentally bumped into people left and right in the Enertainment District, you always muttered small apologies —As if the reciever was even sober to hear it.

• Your manners were impeccable, how kind of you ! It's almost as if you don't belong here.

• 'He' knows you don't.

• You feel it, the feelings been gnawing at your back for awhile now.. Someone has been following you, and so that's why you were practically near a sprint as you ran through Districts, and Border zones —Fully debating on using your wings to get away from 'It' entirely, but weighing the pro's and con's were obviously needed before taking such a drastic option and life threatening decision.

• And since you didn't want to be hunted down, or even worse —Reported to the King of Hell, you took alleyways and random directions hoping to run away and have its sight's lose you. ( Dumb Decision. )

• Now DEAR. You didn't think you'd run away so easily now do you? After all, the site of an angel after the extermination was worrying ! How he wanted to try Angel Meat —However, he must introduce himself to you first !

• As you ran into another alleyway —" Shit! Dead end — "

• A dark murky shadow formed behind you, your instincts caused you to turn into fight or flight mode — Your halo glowed violently reacting potently from your panicked emotions,

— START OF MEMORY.

" No need to act so —violently, My Dear ! " The Demon's voice had a static filter —possibly done on purpose, he donned a transatlantic accent —He felt powerful, yes —but you've been enhancing your ability, even when Heaven was probably the most peaceful place in the entire universe, despite the fact Adam caused a ruckus every now and then —but he's already dead, so peaceful it was once more;

The Demon found your panicked expression comedic, hilarious, fun.

Like Prey facing Predator.

Could it be you felt fear? Panic? Whatever it was, it was certainly messing with your train of thought— you needed to rationalize yourself !

Talking a sharp breath and sucking it up, you then inquired — " I'm so sorry Sir, I was just rather startled .. " Your tone was geniune, yes —But your actions certainly told what you actually felt —Your hands quivered and beads of sweat started to form under the hood of your cloak.

" What a frightened Swan ! What's an Angel like you doing here ? " 'He' mused, relishing within your frightened presence. Your gaze turned cold as you felt your sweat turn freezing, your jaw slightly agape—

You looked at him before saying, " —

— END OF MEMORY.

• Your encounter with the Radio Demon was far from pleasant, but you wouldn't admit it. It's not nice to do so,

—FIN.

#hazbin hotel x reader #Hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin alastor #hazbin x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin #yandere alastor #alta1red #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin x you #hazbin x y/n

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sleepyhollands · 2 years ago

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Omg can u pls do a blurb ab Demon!Harry finds Angel!Y/N being bullied by some other demons and he stops them before they go too far?? 😇😇😇

harry was just on his way home after a terribly long afternoon of making sinister deals and collecting the souls of the damned when he heard the commotion across the street. normally, it being literal hell, he wouldn’t expect much differently from the world around him, but he happened to take a fleeting glance toward the whooping laughter and mocking voices, and saw something that made him do a double take.

now, there is no place in hell for the color white, save for the teeth of the few demons who care for dental hygiene and the whites of their eyes before they’re consumed with inky blackness. so imagine harry’s surprise when he thought he spotted an array of ivory feathers, scuffed as they may be, flutter behind a wall of burly demons whose backs were turned to him. but no, that couldn’t be right… right?

call it the pull of curiosity (months later, he would call it fate), but harry felt like he should go over there, if only to confirm his suspicions. so he did.

harry walked up behind the group, quietly so as not to be heard, with his arms crossed and his jaw set. he was still many meters away, but the closer he got, the better he could hear, and suffice to say he was becoming concerned. now, harry’s all for roughing someone up— it’s quite literally in his job description, right under ‘hijacking high school slumber party ouija sessions’— but something about the whimpers of pain and pleas for mercy weren’t sitting well with him.

“please, i-i’m sorry, i don’t know how i—,” the voice cut off with a sharp cry.

was that a girl’s voice? surely they didn’t kidnap a girl from the surface? harry may be a demon, but even he had some morals.

“aw, is it scared? you scared, sweetheart?”

“how did a pretty little thing like you get all the way down here, huh? ’s like you’re beggin‘ for us to grab you by the neck and—”

“quiet, dumbass. don’t want anyone to know about this. don’t wanna have to share it, do we? fuck, we’re so fucking lucky.”

harry saw the demons shuffle around a bit, seemingly manhandling whatever girl they were tormenting. when they turned and harry’s view was no longer obstructed, his eyes widened momentarily as his wildest suspicion was confirmed. but how in satan’s name did an angel get to hell?

one of the demons had his arm wrapped around the terrified girl’s middle, his broad chest to her back, her wings crumpled in what harry assumed could only be quite painful between them, free hand clamped over her mouth. another grabbed both her wrists in one of his, squeezing tight and causing her knees to buckle as she sobbed into the first creature’s palm. harry could’ve sworn he heard a muffled “please!” from beneath it.

“the things we’re gonna do to you, doll face…,” mused one of the demons who wasn’t grabbing the angel, instead groping his crotch, squeezing and moaning, “fuck, i’m hard just thinking about it.”

their poor celestial victim’s eyes went wide with unmistakable fear, and she squirmed harder in their grasp, kicking her legs and subsequently having them restrained by the fourth and final gang member. she wasn’t touching the ground anymore, and had no more leverage to move in their grip.

“c’mon, let’s get outta here before someone—”

“what’s all this about, gentlemen?”

harry hadn’t even realized he’d come up to the edge of the scene until the demons before him shot their heads up in surprise, their leader (crotch-groper) leveling out to just about an inch shorter than him.

“harry!” he said with a grin, flashing harry his yellowing teeth as if they’d been friends for years, “what brings a demon of your standing down to this here part of hell?”

“answer the question or i’ll deliver you to lucifer myself.” harry didn’t spare the angel a glance, not wanting to alarm her further, but from the corner of his eye he could see her begin to tremble in her restraint.

crotch-groper, who harry soon recognized as lyle, a rather young and distasteful demon, clenched his jaw before responding. “found her all curled up an‘ alone in the alley. we were gonna go have some fun with her at sanjay’s, if you know what i mean. you want in? i just got a batch of new devices i haven’t had the chance to try out yet, and a fuckin‘ angel’s guaranteed to be a vir—”

“enough,” harry held up a hand to silence lyle, who only shut his mouth (albeit begrudgingly and with a huff) due to harry’s higher ranking— he really didn’t want to get reported to the boss… he quite liked his legs and wasn’t fond of the idea of them bending the other way.

harry finally took a good look at the angel, keeping his face stoic. her eyelashes and flushed cheeks glistened with tears, her body was shaking like a leaf, and she looked on the verge of hyperventilating. he couldn’t explain it, but harry found himself itching to smooth out the crease between her brows with his thumb.

he wished he could signal to her that he was handling this.

eyes meeting lyle’s again, he said, “an angel’s presence in hell is a grade six security violation. in other words, above your pay grade. she is hereby relinquished from your custody and into mine to be dealt with accordingly.”

“the fuck she is!” shouted one of the lackeys holding the girl, “we found her first!” and with so much as a tilt of his head, harry made it so his ribs snapped inwards and punctured his lungs, effectively ending the creature’s existence and his grip on the angel’s legs, allowing her to stand as he crumpled to the ground.

four pairs of eyes widened at harry, and then one of them squeezed so tightly shut he worried they might never open again.

“any more complaints, then?”

the three remaining gang members shook their heads, releasing their hold on the celestial, causing her to scrape her palms and knees on her short trip to the asphalt with a pitiful “oof!” if harry had blinked, he’d have missed their instantaneous dissipation from the scene.

fucking finally.

crouching to the ground where the innocent being was curled up into herself, harry reached out a hand to gently touch her shoulder as he began, “hey.”

but he didn’t get very far, because the second his skin made contact with her own, the girl scrambled backwards into the nearest alley wall with a gasp. dirt was collecting under her fingernails, at least one of her wings was definitely broken, she had no idea how she ended up in satan’s domain, and she was just so scared.

harry noticed how she couldn’t even look him in the face, her hands covering her own for fear he would attack her. he felt a pressure in his chest at the thought.

“’s all right, love,” he reassured. “’s all right, ’m not going t‘ hurt you.” she didn’t move an inch, so he patiently continued. “i’m harry. what do they call you?”

and while she was terribly afraid to speak to him, she was more afraid of what he might do if she continued to ignore him.

“y-y/n.”

harry smiled at the pretty name. “it’s nice to meet you, y/n.”

y/n kept her hands in front of her face as she responded. “nice… nice to meet you too, harry.”

he thought it was endearing, really, how her manners were so ingrained into her being that she could be polite to him even now. harry wanted to move a little closer, but he didn’t want to spook her. so he asked her if she could move her hands and open her eyes.

y/n shook her head so fervently, harry worried she might give herself whiplash. “he’s still there,” she sobbed, upper body shaking with her cries.

“’s just us here, love.”

“n-no… the man. the… the one you…,” she couldn’t bring herself to say it, but harry caught on. the one you killed.

oh, right. harry had forgotten him before he’d even hit the dirt. he waved his hand and the corpse disappeared from sight.

“he’s not, promise. no one to be seen for miles.”

tentatively, y/n lowered her hands, but they still hovered over her mouth, prepared to shoot back up at any moment. her eyes opened up to him again, and this time harry could admire their beauty without having to pretend to be indifferent.

“hi,” he smiled a gentle smile, settling his palms on his knees so she could see them still and empty. “can you tell me what happened, sweetheart?”

y/n flinched at the pet name, which didn’t go unnoticed by harry, and it took him a few moments to understand.

“aw, is it scared? you scared, sweetheart?”

“oh. sorry, um, about those blokes. they’re right big twats, they are. they won’t bother you again.”

y/n slowly began to relax, ever so slightly. but she still had a million unanswered questions, and her guard was still way up. why was this (rather handsome) demon being so kind to her? was it true he was going to be ‘dealt with’ by him? and why… what was that warm feeling she got in her tummy each time he called her ‘love’? she figured she should start with the most important question.

“what are you going to do with me?”

harry could literally feel the fear flowing through her veins, could practically hear her thoughts running a mile a minute. his face softened.

“well. first, we’re gonna have to take care of those wings, and any other injuries you may have. after that, we’ll try to find a way to get you home.”

y/n didn’t look convinced. “you’re… you’re not gonna… lock me away?”

“did you commit a crime in heaven? did you sin?”

“no…,” y/n tried to think back, tried to remember the moments before she wound up in hell, but it was like she was missing part of her memories. “i-i don’t think so.”

harry stood up, wiping his palms on his trousers and holding out a hand to help her up. “well, then there you are. it might be hard to believe, but there is a system for punishment in satan’s kingdom, too. if you haven’t done anything, we’ll get you right on home.” he didn’t say it aloud, but a small part of his heart twinged at the idea of letting her leave.

why was that?

y/n gratefully took his hand, but wasn’t able to help pull herself up. she was too weak, and her whole body ached. she figured she was only feeling it now from the passing of adrenaline as harry helped her relax. a whine tumbled from her lips as she struggled to stand.

“here,” harry spoke in a quiet voice. he stepped closer to her, and on instinct she shied away. he paused for a second, opening up his palms and facing them upwards as he approached to show he meant no harm. “y‘ can’t walk, love. let me help.”

hesitantly, the angel nodded, and harry swooped down to pick her up under the knees and shoulders. a small squeak escaped her lips as he pulled her off the ground, and he cooed, “i’ve got you. i’ll be careful.”

once she was securely in his arms, y/n asked the next biggest question on her mind.

“why are you helping me, harry?”

harry looked down at her big doe eyes, subconsciously pleading for him to protect her from the unknown horrors of this underworld she’s never hoped to find herself in. her small fists gripped his shirt like a vice, crinkling the well-pressed material, though harry found he didn’t mind.

“well,” he breathed, “this isn’t your home. and you’re hurt. and i know if i was confused and alone in a scary new place, i’d want some help, too.” then, to lighten the mood a bit, he added, “though, truthfully, it’d be hard to get me to admit it.”

y/n mirrored his small smile, uttering a breathy, “thank you.” her fingers still clung to his shirt just as tightly, but she relaxed enough to let her head fall to rest against his collarbones, and harry counted that as a small victory.

his wings, long and dark and somewhat ashy, extended fully behind him, and began wrapping themselves around the sweet girl in his arms, a barrier between her and the dark secrets of hell. then, generating no noise or wind as though nothing had occurred at all, the pair dissipated from sight.

taglist: @fahsey @caswinchester2000 @lmaotshollandd @jackiehollanderr @nervousdadmode @amii-nyc @skitmix @auggie2000 @voguesir @yourgoldengirls @hunnybunimdun @lolooo22 @atoris-fantasy

and also @cherryjuiceblues <3 :D

#this was supposed to be a short little blurb what have i done #harry styles #blurbs #request #harry styles blurb #harry styles request #harry styles blurb request #harry styles x reader #harry styles x reader blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader angst

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