#how on earth do i tag this for triggers???

[strangerstilinski]

You may have received this message 3x because I typed it out the first time and RIP computer crashed then the second I clicked send and by God Tumblr crashed and so if it crashes a 3rd time you will never see this message but maybe you have it in your inbox like a bazillion times.

Basically the first part is yea I get small towns but a lot of the urban legend and crimes weren't talked about openly because a lot of churches in small towns Indiana. Also because people were superstitious as fuck and like there's a lot of Masons near my small town Indiana so you didn't want to say anything that could somehow be related to them...

Anyways more lore and infodump about Indiana because I already said some things and now my brain is itching to tell more: which also the majority of these was read in a book when I was a preteen about weird and creepy things in Indiana (and again this is the 3rd time trying to send this message so things aren't in the same order)

There's The Fox Hollow Farm murders about another SK like Eyler. I have seen podcasts do an ep on this but briefly listened and never finished.

Claypool murders. It was a hotel and in 1940s a woman got murdered never found the killer. Another woman got murdered in the 1950s, but they did find their murderer. Place may or may not have been haunted but it is torn down today. I've heard this one on a podcast somewhere idk where...

The ghost Diana at the Dunes. Dont ask me the lore because my family had more interesting urban legend. Because its common for people to go missing or fall into the dunes, well my dad told me the rumor he heard was that the dunes moved creating air pockets- but WHY did they move? And some people who "fell" into these air pockets said it felt like something grabbed them...there's something living in the dunes that causes the sand to shift.

There's 100 steps cemetery i think in southwest Indiana. There are so many different legends the one I remember is you have to count each step, or you'll die in so many days. But also you'll see a premonition of your death?

Vincennes is just a haunted town, everyone i know who isnt local who has gone there has seen or heard something especially on some of those bridges.

There's catacombs under Indy that may or may not be haunted.

Bigfoot. So many stories and legends about Bigfoot in the state park. Speaking of state parks, one is called Shades state park. I went one time because I had a goal to hit as many different state parks in Indiana...never again because there were ladders you had to climb. But it was called Shades of Death in like the 70s or 80s because of people going missing.

There's some small town that had a Wolfman. He like defected from a war or something and then got adopted by a pack of wolves and lost his humanity and became like them. I only remember reading this one because the townsfolk turned on him and locked him in the cave by blowing up the exits and left him to die and I thought that was horrific because I'm terrified of caves.

Which there is the Indiana caverns. Thats its own thing snd there are rumors im sure

One of the bigger cities near me has a lot where a murder took place and the house was insanely haunted. Like every person who lived there after saw things and went insane or got killed there. They tore the house down and rebuilt on that lot and it continued to happen. Now its just an empty lot.

Mermaids. Don't ask me how or why a landlocked state has mermaids in the few ponds and lakes it has. I say mermaids loosely because yeah there's the river creature sea serpent loch ness monster type of creature in one of the lakes but there is also the mermaids as the town called it that were a mix between actual mythology of Selkies and Sirens.

Also there's supposedly a turtle cryptid somewhere in Indiana and I just think that's funny compared to the rest

this was wild from start to finish 🤯 thank you endlessly for fighting tumblr by sending this in a third time, because this was the only version of this message that i received and i am soooo grateful (i was not joking when i said i wanted to search for creepy podcasts hehehehe)

also u easily saved the best for last bc a turtle cryptid???

[little-klng]

I really think society as a whole needs to work on better deradicalization strategies. So far the one that works best for me is "relate [unreasonable hatred] to [thing you both don't like]", sort of like how conflict management works. It's not you vs me, it's you and me vs the problem. If you've got better ideas/strategies/studies drop em lol

[yay-depression]

i have definitely made a post like this before but i’m so fucking fed up with ppl that i’m making it again. why does no one seem to know what a trigger warning is!! why are people so offended by the idea of giving other people information to regulate themselves?? “life doesn’t come with trigger warnings!” IT LITERALLY DOES?? WHAT DO YOU THINK MOVIE RATINGS ARE?? we use trigger warnings all the fucking time.

also: no one seems to know what being triggered means?? being triggered is shorthand for stimuli or situations triggering a mental health crisis. whether that crisis is a PTSD episode, a psychotic episode, a panic attack, a meltdown, etc. being triggered is not “this makes me comfortable” or being “easily offended”, it’s a serious case of emotional distress and dysregulation.

and the wild thing is, most people who complain about trigger warnings are the same kind of ppl who are trying to get books they find even slightly offensive banned from places like schools! they’re the same people who will shoot at their bud lite cans bc they saw a single trans person collaborating with the company. the people who seem so aggravated by people with literal trauma and mental health issues asking for a little heads up are the same ppl who would spontaneously combust if someone said the words “reparations” within a mile radius of them.

[thesirencult]

How Will Your FS See You ?

1--2

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

Pile 1

I'm seeing a vision. A girl is gathering flowers and playing in the sun between trees. At the same time, a man is looking at her like she is his whole world.

What this tells me is that there is a very clear distinction between you and your future spouse's energies. Your FS is definitely more masculine (no matter their gender) and you are more feminine.

This person sees you as a ray of light. You are dainty like a flower and sweet like honey. I'm hearing the word "yellow" 💛. Whenever they are looking at you, you are draped in golden light.

Now, what makes me sad is that you don't see yourself that way. Your person knows that you are picking yourself apart and they hate it.

You are a shiny little star to them. Some words they might call you are : my little star, pooh bear, sweetheart, honey, sweetie, cutie. They believe you are the sweetest, loveliest, most sincere person on planet earth. You believe that you do not deserve love or that you are not that important but they are seeing "You are important. You are as important as the air I breathe. You are necessary to my survival."

Like the sun is the centre of our universe, you are the centre of their universe. Your FS is very affectionate with you. I'm seeing someone kissing the fingers of someone else and breathing in their scent from their neck/hair. First and foremost they find you sweet and cute. Like, to them, intimacy doesn't mean mindless physical connection but love making. They love your hands and your nose.

They adore your expressions and they find certain quirks you have cute. As an example, when you feel tired and puff air out or if you tag on their hand and look up at them.

This person might be bigger than you and they just want to protect and serve you. I believe that they want to set boundaries between you and the world. They want to hold up a mirror for you and help you see your own light.

Whenever you are sad they want to make you smile.

I believe that you and your FS are going to be really close. This is not a normal bond. To others it might not seem healthy, they way that you are attached to eachother, but for you it's perfect...

Pile 2

Your FS sees you as their dream person, not in a childish way but in a mature way. You are what they need not what they wanted.

This person has had lots of experiences when it comes to love. When they meet you they will be going through a "winter" moment, life will have lost its spark. You might be born in March, cause you are going to wash away the snow and help them see the bright side of life again.

This will not be easy. Your FS will see you as their wish fulfillment, but at moments they will be wondering whether God or the d*vil sent you. You will be triggering their old wounds and stagnant energy.

This person will be very caring towards you. They will constantly remind you to take your vitamins and drink enough water. They will tease you about your height or nose just to get to your nerves.

I'm hearing "They are so draining!". Now, this is really funny cause I heard it in a teasing way, like you are at the next room and they are telling your mom you are a pain in the butt when in reality they love your quirks.

They will be constantly worrying about your well-being lol. They will get mad when you are not taking care of yourself and they will be trying to guilt trip you into doing things that are good for yourself.

Let's say you are really shy and don't want to go to the beach but they want to go and you have a dog that loves the water. They will be telling you "See, the dog is broken hearted. You are not a really good dog mom/dad."

This person will think you are sneaky. They will love the sparkle your eyes have as you have a very "active" inner child.

I believe you don't show that side to others that often and no one will believe what they have witnessed. You could have made a crazy food combination or they found you teaching the dog muay thai, to them you can NEVER be boring. It's like, what is she up to, AGAIN?

I also get that you might give them the "puppy eyes" when you get caught doing something you're not supposed to be doing (ex. cheating on your diet) or playing all coy and sweet and they love that!

[bossbtch1]

Forbidden Reunion

Summary : You managed to escape from Loki after discovering his lies. Aware that both he and the TVA would be searching for you, you prayed they wouldn't succeed. However, now Loki stood in front of you and he had no intentions of letting you go.

Pairing : Loki Laufeyson x f!Reader

General tags : SMUT, 18+, Dark Fic, Obsessive, Yandere

Trigger Warnings: Strong Language, Violence, Stalking, Non-con, Dubious Consent, Forced Blowjob, Forced Orgasm, Fingering, P in V, Unprotected Sex, Breeding, Overstimulation (let me know if I missed any lol)

Word Count: 10k

A/N : Sorry it took me too long to post this, juggling this alongside my other story took some time. But as promised, I'm releasing this one first.

Before you continue, please read TW again. This is a dark!fic and explicit, strictly for readers 18+. Please, DO NOT PROCEED if these themes disturb you. I've warned you, this fic isn't for the faint-hearted.

This took in Loki season 2 based on that shadow play.

If you like my story, please go check out my other stories here

Exhausted from years of evading both Loki and the TVA. Tonight, you found yourself in a bar, a moment to escape the chaos for years and hoping for a chance encounter. Despite your past with Loki, you were eager to move forward and explore new relationships, you have your own needs, and the more time went on, you knew they could not be sated by yourself anymore.

You could use your power to manipulate them into sleeping with you, but you knew it was wrong, you were sure there was a natural progression you just needed to be patient, and maybe your powers were going to waste being used to keep you hidden from the TVA.

Your mind drifted back to Loki, the god of Mischief and how he lied to you, manipulated you.

Flashback

"I'm sorry to say this, but you have been deceived by him," the TVA agent asserted. You turned your back on her as you attempted to escape, your eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of Loki. You had become separated during the chaotic chase within the TVA headquarters.

"No, I'm not. Loki wouldn't lie to me," you defended him, your voice laced with unwavering belief.

"Is he? Tell me, what did he say to you, the reason he got caught?" the agent probed, her tone challenging.

"He tried to rule Earth and failed," you replied, recalling the events that had led to his capture.

She seemed surprised that you knew. "Yes, and whose fault was that?" she pressed further.

“Yes, I know it was his.” You admitted, frustration seeping into your words, “But it stemmed from his deep-seated need for approval and love, especially from a father who resented him for being adopted." Despite the firmness in your tone, a flicker of doubt shadowed your eyes, making you question whether you were convincing the agent or merely grappling with your own uncertainties.

"Is that the whole story? Or just a part he wants you to believe?" Her words hung heavy in the air.

"He's the trickster god, the silvertongue," she continued, her voice steady, unwavering. "Manipulation is in his nature. Don't fall for his lies."

"Hello? Hey?" You heard a voice bringing you back from your daydream. "Can I buy you a drink?"

You looked up, it was a handsome man who had sat down beside you. You smiled, not wanting to appear rude. "Yes, please," you said.

He smiled, "I'm Mark."

"Y/N," you said.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," he smiled.

You returned his smile. You enjoyed his company as you chatted and laughed, his eyes sparkled as he listened to you talk, you knew you were making him blush when you teased him, he was sweet, and you knew he liked you.

Conversation flowed easily between you two. You couldn't remember the last time you felt so at ease with a stranger, the feeling was new and exciting. He seemed so genuinely interested in what you had to say and you felt as if he actually understood what was going on in your life.

"Do you want to come to my place? I've got a bottle of whiskey that needs drinking," he smiled.

"Sure, why not?" you said, downing the rest of your drink. This was your chance to get what you've been craving, and what better way to start than with a handsome man inviting you to his place?

Then someone spilled his drink onto Mark, ruining his white shirt.

"What the hell? Are you kidding me?!" he yelled at the man. "Watch where you're going, asshole." He shouted in frustration.

"Oh, I am so sorry, man, I tripped," the other man said, his voice calmed.

You recognize the voice.

It was Mobius.

Your heart raced, and you couldn't believe that he had managed to track you down. Paralyzed with fear, you sat there, feeling the color drain from your face as you stared at him in disbelief. If Mobius was here then that meant that Loki wasn't far behind.

Mark was fuming, he stormed off to the bathroom, leaving you alone, and you wanted desperately to call out, to warn him not to leave you by yourself, but fear kept your words trapped in your throat.

"Hello, Y/N."

Your name was like poison on his lips.

"Loki," you hissed back, turning around to face him.

He looked exactly the same as the last time you'd seen him, his black hair was neatly styled, his green eyes were piercing, and his face was pale. His expression was serious, his jaw set and his eyes cold, he looked so different from the Loki you had known and fallen in love with.

"What the fuck are you two doing here?" Your heart pounded in your chest, your palms sweaty with anxiety, and you were suddenly very aware of how alone you were in the bar.

"I missed you, pet. I have been worried," his tone was mocking and his smirk didn't reach his eyes.

"Don't lie, Loki," you shot back, glaring at him.

"You know, you've always been so difficult."

"And you're an asshole."

Loki didn't say anything, instead he reached for your wrist and held it tight. "Let me go! You fucking liar, I trusted you, I loved you, and you betrayed me," you shouted, struggling against his grip.

"Little one, don't make a scene." he growled in your ear.

Your eyes pleaded with Mobius, who stood caught between the two of you. "Are you just going to stand there and let this happen?" you implored, your voice cracking with desperation.

Mobius sighed, a mixture of resignation and sadness in his eyes. "I'll leave you be for now then," he said, his tone heavy with regret. "I'll see you later." With that, he turned away, leaving you to face Loki's wrath alone.

"How about I give you a choice," he said, a sinister glint in his eyes. "Either you can come home willingly, or I can use my magic to knock you out and bring you home. Which do you prefer?" The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, leaving you trapped in a lose-lose situation.

"I'm not going anywhere with you, Loki!" you hissed, your voice laced with defiance as you struggled against his grip. Every fiber of your being screamed resistance, but you knew the sheer force of his magic could easily overpower you.

"Very well then," he purred, his lips twisted into a sadistic smile as he waived his hand, ready to use his magic.

"Wait!" You blurted, holding up your hands to stop him, your voice trembled as the weight of your decision bore down upon you.

"Yes, little one?" he asked, his tone condescending and smug.

"I'll come willingly," you said, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. It was a lie, a desperate attempt to buy some time.

"But can I go to the bathroom first?" You clung to the hope that a brief moment alone might offer a chance, your mind racing for an escape plan.

"Alright," Loki agreed, his tone oddly accommodating. "Go on, pet." He nodded towards the restroom.

You hurried into the bathroom and locked the door behind you, your heart pounding in your chest. Your frantic eyes searched for your tempad, only to realize it was gone. "Asshole!" you muttered under your breath, realizing that Loki must have taken it when he grabbed your arm.

You had no escape plan, and Loki was waiting for you. You looked for a way out, but the windows were too small for you to climb through, so you thought it would be best to just run through the door and run far away from the bar.

Gathering your courage, you unlocked the door and burst out, your footsteps echoing in the corridor. Behind you, you could hear Loki's enraged shout, "Y/N!" His voice boomed, fueling your determination to run as far and as fast as you could from the bar.

"Y/N! Y/N!" you could hear him getting closer and closer. His voice cut through the air like a sharp blade. "Y/N, stop now!"

"FUCK OFF!" you screamed, frustration and fear fueling your voice. You cast a desperate glance behind you and saw Loki hot on your heels. "Fuck!" you whispered under your breath.

You could feel the tears burning behind your eyes, the adrenaline coursing through your veins, and the fear of being caught was overwhelming. "Fuck, no! Not again!" you thought.

You were annoyed by the people "Move! Move! Please!" You screamed at the people that were blocking the road, but they wouldn't move.

"Fuck you!" One guy shouted back at you after you pushed him away.

You couldn't run anymore. You were too slow, and he was gaining on you, and you knew that you couldn't escape him. But you need to keep trying, you couldn't give up. You were running, and running, and running.

The pain was too much, your muscles ached, and your lungs burned. Your vision was blurred, and you couldn't focus. You were tired of running and out of breath, you leaned against a wall and rested, hoping Loki wouldn't see you.

However, your respite was short-lived. In a blink, Loki teleported right in front of you, his expression oddly calm. "Pet, we have been searching for you for a long time, you hid well." He said, his tone icy.

"You can't be fucking serious!" you hissed, "Why did you look for me? I left for a reason, you betrayed my trust. You used me, and I hate you."

"Little one, why are you angry at me?"

"Are you really asking that, you lying snake?" Pushing him away, you shouted, and sprinted away from him once more, your determination fueling your escape.

You didn't make it far, though, before you felt a familiar, freezing hand grasp your arm, tugging you backward and pulling you against a cold, solid form.

"I don't appreciate it you calling me that."

You gasped, and tried to pull away from him, but his grip was like steel, and no matter how hard you struggled, you couldn't free yourself from him. "I don't care! Let me go!"

He ignored your pleas, then you pulled out a knife from your pocket. You knew he could've easily taken the knife, but instead he let you go, "You think you can hurt me, little one? How adorable." he cooed, his voice silky smooth.

"I'll fucking kill you!"

He laughed again mocking you, "Do you want to try? Do you think you can stab me with that knife, pet?"

You didn't answer, instead you held the knife up, threatening him, "Loki, you don't want to make me angry." You knew that was stupid of you saying that.

He smirked, he wasn't afraid of you, and he wasn't intimidated by you. "You are so cute when you are mad," he mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm, and his eyes were dark.

"Put the knife down, and we can go home, pet" he offered.

"Fuck you, Loki," you spat, your voice dripping with venom as you stood your ground, the knife still clutched tightly in your hand.

He grinned, "Oh, you will soon enough, pet."  He let out a low chuckle and he snapped his finger and the knife flew from your hand to the wall. You watched in horror, you didn’t have anything else on you to defend yourself from him.

He began to advance toward you, a predator toying with his prey. Panic surged through you, urging you to flee. Yet, no matter how fast you ran, Loki always reappeared before you.

His voice dripped with amusement, "Come on, pet. Do you really think you can outrun me?" His grin widened, relishing the chase as if it were sort of a game to him.

"You won't ever escape me, pet. Even if you manage to get away from me, I will always find you again and again. You will be mine, whether you want to or not." He declared, his tone possessive and chilling. He stood before you, his presence looming over you like a dark cloud.

"I won't stop fighting you," you vowed, your voice filled with defiance, glaring at him as he advanced toward you. Desperation fueled your steps as you ran, but he always caught up to you, teleporting right in front of you, a relentless pursuit that seemed endless.

"You can't run forever, pet," he taunted, his eyes dark and menacing, his voice deep and husky. “Eventually, I’ll catch up to you.”

You were getting tired of running. "Come on, pet. Are we playing a game?" He chuckled, the sound echoing eerily through the empty street. The bastard was enjoying this twisted cat-and-mouse chase.

"Just stop!" you cried out, your frustration boiling over.

"Why would I stop? This is the most fun I've had in years, darling. I enjoy seeing you run, it's quite entertaining."

"Shut up." You tried to run away again, your breaths ragged. "Quit your magic, and fight fair!" Deep down, you knew if you were in a one-on-one combat with him, without his magic, you could win. "If you win, I'll come willingly."

"That's not how this works, little one," he chided, his tone laced with amusement.

You felt the anger boiling inside of you, but you continued to run. Each step echoed in the empty alley as you tried to escape his relentless pursuit. "Leave me alone then!" you shouted, desperation lacing your voice.

To your horror, your movements came to an abrupt stop. Loki stood in front of you, his mischievous grin sending shivers down your spine. Frantically, you turned around, only to find him there again, mocking your attempts to escape. Panic set in as you attempted to flee in the opposite direction, but there he was once more, his presence haunting you like a nightmare.

"What the fuck is going on?" you muttered, disbelief coloring your voice. How was he everywhere? How was he doing this? Your mind raced with questions as you stepped back, trying to distance yourself from the three identical Loki that surrounded you.

Were you tripping, or is there really three of them?

Loki's chuckle reverberated around you, a haunting sound that sent chills down your spine. Frustration boiled within you, and you screamed in exasperation, "How are you doing that?" Your voice wavered, trembling with a mixture of frustration and fear as you desperately demanded answers.

His grin widened as he continued to toy with your sanity. "Oh, come now, surely you know a trick or two, you being a witch and all," he taunted, the words laced with mocking arrogance.

You took slow steps backward as the three Loki remained in front of you, your resolve mingling with confusion and growing fear. "I'm not a witch, you... asshole," you retorted.

Suddenly, you felt his warm breath near your ear, and his voice sent a shiver down your spine. "It's called an illusion, little one," he whispered, the hot air tickling your earlobe. You jolted away from him, only to find another Loki standing in front of you, and you jumped yet again.

Fear gripped you, not of him, but of the overwhelming confusion and frustration that clouded your senses. The relentless onslaught of illusions left you feeling disoriented, unable to discern reality from the intricate tricks he was playing.

"Please stop," you pleaded.

"Stop what?" he asked, feigning innocence, his eyes glinting mischievously.

"Your tricks. I'm not stupid, stop," you demanded, your voice growing firmer despite the fear gripping your heart.

The three Loki slowly closed in on you, each step they took making your heart race faster. You retreated, trying to create distance, but soon your back met the unyielding wall. There was no escape. Your mind raced, your heart pounded, and you breathed heavily, trapped in a nightmare of your own making.

Suddenly, you felt an invisible force restraining your hands, pinning them against the wall. You looked around frantically, searching for the source, but there was no one in sight. Panic clawed at your throat as you realized you were immobilized.

"What the fuck are you doing?! Let me go."

"I don't think I will, my little pet," Loki said, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

Suddenly, Mobius reappeared beside Loki, seemingly out of thin air. "A little over the top, don’t you think, all the shadow play?" he commented, his tone disapproving.

Loki smirked, unrepentant. "I thought it was spot on."

Mobius turned his attention to you, his expression filled with concern. "What are you trying to do to the poor girl?" he asked.

"I'm merely making a point," Loki replied casually, as if discussing the weather and your distress was nothing more than a game.

Mobius shook his head and lightly chuckled, "Oh, I'm sure you are. That's why she looks like a frightened rabbit."

"I'm still here? Hello?” They were casually talking like you were invincible, despite being bound to a wall. Their attention shifted to you, and you erupted, "Mobius, what the hell? Arrest him! What are you doing!" Panic and anger laced your words, but it fell on deaf ears.

"Sorry, sweetheart, I can't do that. I made a deal with Loki," Mobius responded, his tone regretful yet resolute.

You felt a chill run down your spine. "What fucking deal?" You asked, your voice trembling. "What are you going to do with me?"

"I'm not going to do anything. But Loki, on the other hand..." he chuckled darkly. "Well, the deal is, we only need you alive. That's all I'm saying. My lips are sealed," Mobius replied with a cryptic smile.

You didn't have a chance to process his words before the Loki closest to you began circling you, a predatory gleam in his eyes. Your heartbeat wildly, fear coursing through your veins as he trailed his finger along your arm, his touch light and teasing in suspense.

"What the fuck is the matter with you, let me go!" you shrieked, your panic and anger rising. "Mobius you fucking bitch, you are nothing but a- MMM" abruptly, as the shadow silenced you, turning your pleas into incoherent whispers.

Mobius sighed, shaking his head. "Now you're just showing off," he admonished.

"I can't help it, you bring out the worst in me."

Loki stepped in front of you and leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear. "Now, where were we?" he whispered, his voice low and seductive. His fingers trailed along your jaw, his touch feather-light and tantalizing. You were struggling to break free from his hold, but your body remained paralyzed, at his mercy.

Loki, leaning casually against the wall, let out a low, amused chuckle at your futile struggles. "Oh, little one," he purred, his tone mocking and condescending. "There's no use in fighting. You won't be able to break free. Trust me."

"Now, be a good girl and remain still," Loki said, his smile cruel and unsettling as he locked eyes with you, a twisted affection glinting in his gaze.

"Loki, take it easy on her. She's just a young girl, after all." Mobius interjected, his voice laced with a hint of compassion, though his eyes conveyed a different story. "Make sure to control your pet, Loki.” Mobius emphasized before vanishing into thin air.

You screamed was incoherent since your mouth was being covered by the shadow, you tried to say "Help!" and "No" but nothing came out.

Loki grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing your head up to meet his gaze. "Oh, darling. Don't try to speak, or scream, or fight. You can't escape, and no one is going to save you. No one will hear you, the only sound you will make is your moans."

Fear gripped you, the uncertainty of Loki's intentions leaving you paralyzed and vulnerable.

He advanced toward you, his steps deliberate and predatory. "Now," he whispered, his voice dripping with sadistic anticipation, "let the fun begin, pet."

With a snap of his fingers, Loki dispelled the shadow covering your mouth, granting you the ability to speak again. "Get off me, Laufeyson!" you exclaimed, your voice laced with defiance. You strained against your restraints, desperate to escape his grasp. "This is wrong. You're crazy psychopath."

"Oh, pet," he said, a twisted smile playing on his lips. "We've done far worse together."

Frustration and fear gripped you as you struggled against your bindings, pleading, " Why can't you just leave me alone?"

A dark chuckle escaped Loki's lips as he replied, "You know why."

"Please, just let me go." You pleaded, desperation creeping into your voice.

Loki's smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with possessiveness. "I'm afraid I can't do that, love. You belong to me."

"No, I don't! I'm not yours," you protested vehemently. You writhed against the magical restraints, a mixture of anger and fear fueling your struggles. His control over you felt like a violation, and you despised him for it, for using his magic against you in such a cruel manner.

"Oh, pet," Loki purred, his voice dripping with both mockery and desire. "You can fight all you want, but you'll never win, not when it comes to me." He leaned in, his lips grazing your neck in a chilling caress. You whimpered as he sucked on your skin, his teeth scraping lightly.

"Stop. Please," you begged, your voice trembling.

"But why would I stop," he replied, his tone silkier than ever, "when I'm having so much fun?" His words hung in the air, laden with sadistic pleasure.

"I hate you. I will never stop hating you," you spat out, your words laced with a fierce determination, even in the face of your vulnerability.

Loki's lips curled into a sly smile, "You don't truly hate me, little one. You merely pretend to. I see through the façade. I know what lies beneath."

"What the hell are you talking about, Loki?" you shot back.

"Stop being such a brat," he sneered. The shadow binding both your wrists kept you firmly against the wall, his control unyielding. "Do you like being restrained, hmm? Enjoy the feeling of someone else in control, knowing you can't escape, and no one will help you?" His face hovered dangerously close to yours, his breath ghosting over your skin.

“No! Stop that nonsense!” You lied, you were scared, and angry, but you also secretly enjoyed being under his control whether you wanted to admit it or not.

He hummed and kissed your neck and whispered in your ear, his breath tickled your ear and you felt shivers down your spine. “Fuck, how I miss you.” His voice was deep and commanding, sending tingles of pleasure throughout your body.

"Please, stop. Just leave me alone. Don't do this to me, please."

"Oh, little one. You know I can't do that." He said as his hands roamed all over your body, caressing every inch of you, making you feel so vulnerable. You felt the heat rise between your legs and your heart raced faster.

"I can smell your arousal, pet.” He lightly bit your neck. “Your body betrays you. It craves my touch, just as much as you do," he said, his voice laced with a sinister confidence. "You want me, even if you refuse to admit it."

You met his gaze with defiance, attempting to deny the truth he claimed. "You're delusional," you retorted, your words aimed at rejecting his manipulative influence.

"Am I?" Loki's eyes bore into yours, a predatory glint flickering in their depths. "Your heart, your mind, your body—they all long for me, even if you deny it. You can't escape this, no matter how hard you try. I will always find you, even if I have to tear the universe apart to get you back."

Loki was right. Your body was betraying you. The wetness was getting more intense by the minute, you could feel the pleasure building up, but you couldn't let yourself fall into temptation, he had hurt you, lied to you, manipulated you, used you, and now he was going to take you against your will.

You had to fight him.

You had to escape him.

You couldn't let him take you.

Not like this.

But you wanted more, and you knew that Loki would give you everything you wanted and more. You could feel the pleasure building up. You moaned softly as his hands roamed over your breasts. You felt a rush of anger, "What are you doing? You're using your magic to seduce me, aren't you?"

He met your accusation with a knowing grin. "I don't need magic to seduce you.” He countered, “Your body responds to me naturally, so beautifully. It's like a drug, and once I've had a taste, I'm hooked. I can't get enough of you."

You felt his lips on your neck. His kisses were soft and tender. You gasped as his tongue licked your neck, trailing down your collarbone. You couldn't stop the moan that escaped your lips as his fingers pinched your nipple.

You felt he smirked and you tried not to moan, biting your lip, trying not to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was affecting you. But he could read your mind, and he could hear your thoughts, and he knew what you were feeling. He was inside your head.

"Just stop."

"Not until I'm finished with you. Not until you're begging for more. Begging for my cock inside of you. Begging for me." He slammed your back against the wall, and you yelped as you hit it hard.

He had you caged, and your legs were starting to tremble. You didn't know if it was from the force or the intensity of his words. You tried to push him away but he was stronger than you. His body was pressed against yours. He then kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth. You couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but feel his body against yours.

He was a good kisser, and he knew what he was doing. You were moaning into the kiss, and you were fighting to keep control. Then you felt his cock growing hard. You gasped and that was when you realized what was going on. In a desperate act of defiance, you bit down hard, drawing blood. You tasted it.

He pulled back momentarily caught off guard. He looked like a maniac, and you had to remind yourself not to be afraid of him. His lips curled into a sinister grin as he wiped the blood away with his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours. "I like that," he said, his voice low and dark, his grin widening.

You stared at him, and you felt your eyes widen in shock. You felt your heart race. You were still struggling against him, and you tried to pull your hand free from his restraints, but it was useless.

"Oh, pet," he sneered, his tone laced with malice. "I'll make you pay for that defiance."

"What are you planning? Torture me?" you challenged back.

"Torture is such a crude term," he replied, his words dripping with sadistic pleasure. "I prefer 'punish'. After all, you've been a naughty girl. And naughty girls must be disciplined."

Your eyes narrowed, a fierce glare aimed his way. "You can't do anything to break me. You can't force me to feel anything. You have no control over me."

He laughed, "Is that so? You know nothing about me, love. Nothing. If I had my way, I would've taken you to my bed, and kept you there, tied up, blindfolded, gagged, naked, helpless, at my mercy. But I can't do that, yet. However, that doesn't mean I can't have fun."

"You're insane. I despise you," you retorted, your words heavy with hatred.

"That's fine," he replied, his tone oddly calm. "I'm used to people hating me. It's just a matter of time before they change their minds. And I'll have you. One way or another, you're mine."

"Go to hell."

"Only if you come with me."

You felt a chill run down your spine, and you couldn't help but shiver. You couldn't stop thinking about the things he had said. About how you were his. You tried to shake the thoughts away, but they were persistent.

You accidentally clenched your pussy at his words, you hoped he didn't notice.

He chuckled, the sound sending chills down your spine. "Oh, pet, that's adorable," he taunted, his grin widening with malicious amusement. "Do you like the thought of that, pet?" Loki's eyes glittered with dark intent, sensing the conflict within you, and it only served to fuel his sadistic amusement.

"No!" You denied.

"Then why did you clench your pussy, hmm? Was it because you were imagining me taking you?"

"It was just a reflex," you stammered, attempting to deny the undeniable truth.

"Is that so?" he murmured, his voice a dark, taunting whisper. His smirk widened, and he moved his face closer to yours until there were mere inches between your lips. "You're lying, love."

"I won't let you slip away again," he whispered, his fingers tightening around your throat, making each breath a struggle. His eyes bore into yours. "I will make you mine."

He tightened his grip around your throat and slammed your back against the wall, your head hit the wall with a loud thud. You couldn't breathe. The pain was unbearable. Tears began streaming down your face as you struggled to breathe.

But this was making you turned on, despite how much you hated Loki, you couldn't deny that he was hot and the way he was being rough with you was making your pussy throb.

"You'll see. It's time to begin your training, pet." He whispered as his hands travelled lower, caressing your inner thigh. "Please, Loki."

"Shhh, shh." He pressed his finger against your lips, "Save your begging."

“Fuck you!”

He raised his eyebrows and smirked, "I would love to do that right now, but I think we should save it for later."

"You bastard!" you spat, your anger seething.

"Watch your language, pet," he sneered, his grip tightening as he grabbed your chin, his fingers digging into your jaw. "Now, be a good girl and open your mouth." He took a piece of cloth out of his pocket. It was green.

"Hell No! I won't do it. I won't cooperate." You retorted, like who in the world would agree to that?

He sighed. "You know, you really are a stubborn little thing. It's adorable. But, it won't get you anywhere. In fact, it'll just make things worse."

You stared at him. You couldn't believe what was happening. How could he be so cruel? So evil? He chuckled. "I told you. You're not in control here. I am. Now, open your mouth."

“Never.”

"Fine. Then I'll do it for you." He used his magic to force open your mouth, his magic was painful, and it burned. You could barely move. He put the cloth in your mouth and tied it around your head. You tried to scream but couldn't.

"So pretty," he said as he stroked your cheek. "You should be grateful that I'm even letting you use this, instead of forcing you to be silent. And remember, the gag stays on unless I say otherwise. Understand?"

You shook your head mumbling, "Mmff, no."

"That's too bad," he mused, his voice dripping with sadistic amusement. "Because if you try to remove the gag, I'll have to punish you. And you don't want that, do you?"

"Nnooo, I don't," you mumbled, your voice barely audible through the gag.

"Good girl," he purred. "You'll get used to it."

With a swift motion, he removed the shadow restraints from your arms, and you immediately attempted to fight back, you tried to hit him, but he easily dodged your blow. His grip iron-strong when he caught your hand. "Careful, pet," he cautioned, his voice a dangerous whisper. "My patience wears thin."

Using his powers, he summoned the shadow to immobilize you once more, pinning you against the wall, this time including your legs. You were rendered utterly helpless, trapped in his web of darkness.

"Now, let's begin," he said, his voice oozing with menace. You remained tied up, gagged, and entirely at his merciless mercy.

He took out a dagger from his belt and cut through your shirt and bra, leaving you exposed. "Oh my, that's a nice sight."

You let out a muffled scream, "You don't need clothes. They will only get in the way."

He began kissing your neck and sucking on your skin. "Mmf," You moaned softly as his lips trailed down your collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses and bites. He cupped your breast and teased your nipple.

"Mmff No..."

He ignored your protests and continued to play with your nipples.

"You like that, don't you? I can feel how wet you are, darling." He whispered into your ear.

"Mmmff." You tried to deny, but he could hear your thoughts.

He smirked. "I bet if I put my fingers inside you right now, they'd slide right in. I bet you're dripping wet for me, aren't you, my sweet?"

"Mmf."

"You don't need to speak, little one," he whispered, his voice a low, seductive murmur that sent shivers down your spine. "Just relax. I know what you want."

His hand glided down your thigh, his touch sending electric sparks through your skin, until he slipped his fingers under the hem of your dress and traced the edge of your panties. "And it seems that your body agrees with me," he continued, "It's telling me that it's ready to submit to me."

You closed your eyes and tried to block him out. But he could hear your thoughts, and he knew what you were thinking.

"Come on, pet. Open your eyes and look at me. I want to see your beautiful eyes."

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes and found him staring at you, his gaze darkened with hunger and desire.

"There you go. Such a good girl." He praised you.

He slid your panties to the side and his fingers found your pussy, already dripping wet. "Oh, you're so wet, pet. Do you want me that much? Do you want me to fuck you, hmm?"

He slid your panties to the side and cupped your pussy. "Fuck," he muttered as his fingers slipped between your folds, "You're already dripping for me."

You blushed furiously as he rubbed your clit in slow, gentle circles.

"Yes," he said, his voice deepening, "Your body wants me. It wants me to take you and make you mine."

His finger pressed against your entrance and then pushed into you, making you gasp. He curled it and began to massage your G-spot. You bit your lip and moaned, trying not to make too much noise. You tried to squirm away from him, but it was no use.

You clenched your fists, struggling to hold back the moan threatening to escape your lips. A soft whimper escaped your lips, and the Loki behind you laughed softly. "No. You're not getting away from me."

You whimpered as he thrust another finger into you, stretching you even further. He began pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy, making you gasp and moan under the gagged cloth. His fingers worked their magic, sliding in and out of you, rubbing your G-spot with each stroke. He kept a steady rhythm, keeping you on the edge.

You could feel your walls tightening around his fingers, the sensation driving you mad. The Loki in front of you watched intently as he continued to pleasure you, his gaze filled with a mix of lust and amusement as you struggled to keep control. "Oh, little one," he said, "I love seeing you like this. So desperate. So needy. So fucking sexy." His other hand gripped your hips, keeping you in place.

"You're so wet," he murmured, "You're practically begging me to fuck you."

"Mmfff." You tried to ignore him, but he curled his fingers and stroked you just right, and your hips bucked involuntarily. You were quickly approaching your orgasm, and it was impossible to stop yourself from moaning loudly.

Loki leaned in and nipped at your neck, and you shivered as his breath caressed your skin. "But I won't. Not yet. First, I want to watch you come. I want to see your face when you orgasm. I want to hear the sounds you make when you come."

His fingers thrusting into your pussy, his thumb rubbing your clit. You were so close, and you knew that he could sense it. "Ah, yes. That's it. You're doing so well. Now, tell me... do you want to cum?" He pumped them faster, deeper.

You shook your head. You didn't want to come, you tried to resist, but you were too far gone. You felt the pressure building in your core, the pleasure was too much.

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, "Then let's see how long you can last."

He pumped his fingers faster and harder, making you moan and cry out. He thrust a third finger into your pussy and continued his assault on your clit. He was fucking you with his fingers, and you were so close. You could feel the heat rising in your belly, and you knew you couldn't hold it back any longer. You shook your head at him begging him not to make you come.

"Come on pet, don't fight it, just let it happen. Give into the pleasure. Come for me."

He pumped his fingers faster and harder, making you moan and cry out. "Yes, that's it," he whispered, "Just a little bit longer, you're so close."

He was relentless, his fingers working your pussy expertly. "Nnnn." You tried to tell him that you weren't going to let him win, but you couldn't speak.

You could feel the pleasure building and you knew that he could sense it. He kept pumping his fingers and rubbing your clit, and you couldn't hold back any longer. Your pussy was so wet, his fingers were sliding in and out so easily. You felt the orgasm approaching, the pressure was building, and you knew you couldn't hold it back any longer.

"You're going to come, whether you want to or not. So, don't fight it, just let it happen."

"Mmmmmm"

"Yes. You can't stop it. I'm going to make you come."

He continued to thrust his fingers, his thumb circling your clit, the pressure building until you could take it no more. He removed the gagged from your mouth, "Let me hear your moans, pet."

You let out a loud cry, unable to contain it. "That's it. You're so close, I can feel it.” Your back arched and you cried out, his fingers and thumb pushing you over the edge. "Come for me, my sweet. Come for me. Now." He curled his fingers inside you and bit your neck.

You screamed and bucked as the orgasm took you, and he didn't let up. He continued to pump his fingers and rub your clit, pushing you further and further until you couldn't take it anymore. You thrashed about as the pleasure was too much, your orgasm overwhelming your senses.

Your body writhing against his fingers. Your release was so intense that it made your whole body shudder. He held you tightly, his fingers still moving in and out of your pussy, drawing out your orgasm.

"There we go," he said, smiling down at you. "Such a good girl. You're such a good girl for me, pet."

You were a panting, sweating, mess, and you were exhausted.

He kissed your forehead and pulled his fingers out of you. You were glad the shadow was there restraining you or you would collapse.

After you came down from your high, you realized what just happened. You spat at him, "Fuck you, Loki. You're disgusting."

"Disgusting?" He raised his eyebrows. "Now, why would you say that, little one? Was it not good for you? You certainly seemed to enjoy yourself."

"Get the fuck away from me." you spat, your voice filled with venom.

He laughed, "You don't get to tell me what to do, little one. I'm not done with you yet."

"You fucking monster," you screamed, "I'm not going to let you touch me."

He grinned and grabbed your hair, pulling you towards him. "Watch your mouth, pet. I don't like hearing you use foul language. Now, since I was so kind to give you such a nice orgasm, will you be a good girl and obey me without any fuss?"

You rolled your eyes. "Like hell I will!"

He smirked in response. "Since I've been rather kind to you," Loki began, his eyes roaming over your body, "I have a proposition for you."

Though you had little desire to hear anything he had to say, your curiosity got the best of you, compelling you to reluctantly listen.

"Do you want me to fuck you here, right now in this alley, or in our room where we will be alone, and no one will interrupt us." He said with a smirk.

Your throat tightened, both options he presented were equally horrifying. But, the last thing you wanted was for someone to find you two here, like this. "Neither.” you choked out.

"That wasn't an option, my sweet."

You glared at him, "You're vile," you hissed

He raised an eyebrow, seemingly unaffected by your words. "You say the most hurtful things, pet."

"I'm not going to choose," you declared, "I'm not choosing anything. I'd rather die than have sex with you."

He looked amused. "Fine, then I will choose. You have a few seconds to think about it." He said as he took his jacket off, and dropped it to the ground.

"You're going to take me right here? You're an animal."

"It's your fault for refusing. If you choose the other option, I was going to be nice. I'll be rough if you insist."

"If you touch me, I'll kill you." You growled.

He laughed. "Oh, little one. It's not me you have to worry about."

Ignoring your warning, he reached forward, his touch cold against your skin, and ran his thumb along your lower lip. "Shame that I have to punish you. I'm sure you'll be a good girl after today."

You gritted your teeth and move your face away from his touch, "Don't touch me."

He ignored your demand, and began undoing his pants. He pulled his cock out, and started stroking it. You stared at his member and he was already rock hard. You hesitated, not wanting to touch him.

"Are you afraid, my sweet?"

You remained silent, refusing to dignify his question with a response.

He laughed, “There's no need to be scared. I won't hurt you. Unless you disobey me."

He moved closer, his proximity suffocating. With a swift, unwelcome touch, he reached out and stroked your cheek. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but flinch away from his caress.

"Relax, darling. This will be pleasurable for the both of us." He said as he grabbed his cock and ran it against your slit.

You felt your wetness seep onto his cock.

"STOP!" you screamed, your voice breaking the tense atmosphere, forcing him to halt his actions and look up at you.

He smiled at you. "Do you want me to stop, pet?"

You nodded frantically, desperation clouding your eyes. "Yes, I do."

"Tell me," he purred, his tone dripping with cruelty, "why should I stop?"

You scrambled for an excuse, your mind racing. "Let's do it in your place then," you stammered, your words rushed. "Please? I don't want anyone to see." Desperation clung to your voice as you pleaded, hoping against hope that he would agree to your request.

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, pet. You know that won't work."

He pressed his cock against your pussy again.

You felt his tip slip inside you. "PLEASE! I'll be good, just please stop."

He smiled. "I like the sound of that."

He sighed, "Very well, little one." He swiftly pulled up his pants, adjusted his shirt, and retrieved his jacket, freeing you in the process. You winced as you flexed your arms, the restraints having taken their toll.

With a snap of a finger, he put your clothes back on, and you felt like a weight has been lifted off your chest. You couldn't believe he stopped. He looked at you. "Remember what I said, pet. You don't speak about this to anyone. I'll know if you do. Understand?"

You nodded.

"Good girl," he affirmed.

"Come," he motioned for you to follow him, and for a moment, you considered fleeing again, knowing full well that it branded you a coward. But the terror of Loki's power held you in check.

You didn't get far before he seized you once more. "Enough!" he bellowed, sending you crashing to the ground. Your body felt numb, the pain overwhelming. You begged through the agony, "Please."

"You brought this on yourself, pet," Loki's tone was icy, disappointment etched in his features. "I was going to take care of you, give everything you desired, and all I asked in return was your love and trust. And you broke it."

"Please, Loki. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," you pleaded, desperation lacing your words.

He shook his head, "No, pet. There is no going back. You have to pay the price for what you've done," he stated firmly, his grip unyielding.

Loki wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer to him, "Sweet dreams my pet."

And then, everything faded into darkness.

When you woke up, you were on the bed, naked. The room was dark, and there was no sign of Loki. At least right now your arms and legs weren’t bounded. But still he had kidnapped you. "Fucking asshole!" You cursed inside your head.

Then you heard footsteps approaching outside, you pretended to fall asleep, hoping that he'd leave. "I know you're awake, my sweet." He chuckled, "Did you really think you could trick me, darling? You're such a naughty girl, aren't you? Tsk tsk. Such a bad girl."

You tried to fool the god of mischief, what an idiot you were. You opened your eyes and saw him staring at you. He sat down next to you and began caressing your body. He ran his hand up and down your legs.

You slapped his hand away, you hated him. How dare he touch you like that! Loki grabbed your wrist, "Don't try to stop me, little one." He threatened, his grip was tight. It hurt. "No, stop." You whimpered. You tried to struggle free, but he was too strong.

"Oh no, no, no, you're not going anywhere." He said as he pinned you down on the bed. "Are you ready to behave now, my sweet?"

You refused to respond, instead, you glared at him.

Loki shook his head and chuckled. "You are so beautiful, my sweet.”

You were getting tired of him calling you sweet and darling. "Shut up, Loki. Don’t fucking call me that, you bastard!"

He gave you a stern look. "Behave."

"Or what?" You challenged.

Loki leaned down and pressed his lips to your ear. "If you don't stop that right now, I'm going to have to punish you."

You glared up at him. "What, like you haven't already done that?"

Loki smirked, "Don't be a smartass, darling. I can make this a lot worse."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, sure."

Loki gripped your hair tightly and tugged your head back. "Are you sure you want to challenge me?"

You looked up at him defiantly. "Do your worst." You then saw him grinned, you realized you had made a big mistake.

"As you wish, little one." Loki said with a wicked grin. He got off the bed and started taking his clothes off. You knew what he was going to do, and it scared you.

He took off his shirt and threw it aside. You were confused at first, until Loki lifted his other hand and started waving it.

"What are you doing?"

"Just making sure you don't try to resist."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"It means, I don't want you getting away." Loki smirked. He then started moving his hand up and down your body.

You squirmed and tried to push his hand away, but they felt frozen. "Let me go, you sick bastard!"

Loki gave you a wicked grin. "No, I don't think I will"

Loki forced his lips against yours, you tried to resist, but it was useless. You couldn't move. You tried to turn your head, but it was no use.

Loki forced his tongue into your mouth. He explored every inch of your mouth, tasting you. You could taste his breath. It was sweet, with a hint of mint. You tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let you.

"Stop!" You yelled, "Please stop, Loki! I don't want to do this!

Loki ignored you. He kept kissing you, forcing his tongue down your throat. "I know you like it, darling."

You shook your head. Loki broke the kiss and smiled. "You're such a stubborn little thing, aren't you?"

"Fuck you." You spat.

“Why are you so impatient, my little pet?” Loki laughed. "Don’t worry, I’ll do it in a moment. Right now, I'm more concerned with teaching you a lesson."

You glared at him, you were so pissed off. He laughed again, “Such a pretty face, too.” He traced his finger along your jawline.

Then you watched Loki removed his pants, revealing his fully erect cock. He stroked himself slowly. You felt your body heat up. You couldn't believe it. He was making you hot.

"See something you like?" He grinned.

You blushed. You looked away. It had been awhile since you had sex with him or anyone else. You missed being fucked by him. You needed to feel his cock deep inside of you. But you knew this was wrong, you looked away from him.

"Look at me." He ordered.

You turned and looked at him. You watched as he continued to stroke his cock. "You betrayed me, Y/N." He climbed over you and straddled your hips, trapping your wrists with his hands, and pinned them above your head. "You hurt me. You have to be punished."

“You are hurting me too.”

“I don’t think so, pet. Deep down, you want this. You want me to force myself to you, you don’t think I know? I know your deepest darkest desire. The desire you try to deny. The desire for me to make you mine again. You want to be my pet again, don't you?"

He was right. You were afraid to admit it but you missed Loki. But you didn't want to admit it. You shook your head, “No! I don’t have such thing.” You knew it was a lie, deep down you wanted him to use you and force himself on you, forced you into submission, make you his again, like he had done many times before.

"Keep lying to yourself, pet. I know you more than you know yourself. Now, open your mouth and let me fuck it.”  He smirked and moved closer to you. His cock was inches away from your face. You moved your head away, but he grabbed your hair and pulled it. You winced in pain.

"Open up. Open wide and say ahh."

You refused to obey. "Don't be stubborn." You clenched your teeth together. "If you don't open your mouth, I'll fuck your throat. I'll make you gag and choke."

"You're sick."

"Maybe, but so are you, darling."

He grabbed your face, forced your mouth open. You kept them close together, "I'll fucking bite your dick off, I swear."

He was having none of it, he used his magic to make you couldn't move your jaw. Then he shoved his cock inside your mouth and forced his way in. He started to pump his hips and his cock went deep down your throat, hitting the back of your throat. He moaned, enjoying the feeling.

He pushed his cock deep into your throat, making you gag. You could feel his hard length against your tongue. His precum leaked onto your taste buds, sending shivers down your spine. He kept thrusting in and out of your mouth, deeper and deeper. Your eyes watered.

 You coughed, trying to catch your breath, but he was relentless. His hands gripped your hair tightly, his hips moved faster and harder, his cock sliding in and out of your throat.

You felt your body relax, your heart rate quickened, and your clit throbbed. You were getting turned on by this. You whimpered and felt a surge of excitement flow through your body. You couldn't believe it. You were excited at the thought of him taking you, forcing you, fucking you.

You were sick.

"This is all your fault." He said as he looked at you, enjoying the way your throat was stretched around him. "Such a good pet. Take it all, pet."

He grabbed your hair and forced his cock deeper into your mouth. You were struggling to breathe. He moaned louder as he felt his cock going deeper into your throat. He held his cock in your throat, watching you struggle to breathe. "Such a pretty face. I wonder how many people you've sucked off.”

You whimpered, feeling your body reacting to his words.

"Did you plan to suck that guy you were flirting with?" He thrusted his hips. You gagged and tears filled your eyes. "He could never make you feel this good." He moaned. His thrust became harder and deeper. You choked and gagged on his cock.

You cried, your body trembled. You were about to pass out, when he suddenly pulled his cock out and allowed you to breathe. You gasped, sucking in as much air as possible. You couldn't move, you were frozen. He then proceed to grab his cock and stroke it.

"Such a pretty sight, you are. And the view of your lips wrapped around my cock." He said, grinning. "Don't worry, my pet. I'm almost there. You're doing a great job. You're going to be rewarded for being so good for me. I'm going to give you what you want. What you need."

He grabbed your hair and slammed his cock deep again into your throat. Then his hand reached to your pussy. He put his finger in your pussy, you moaned as he touched your pussy. He smirked.  "That's a good girl, you are learning. Now, suck my cock."

You started sucking his cock. He started thrusting his cock deeper and harder into your throat. He moaned as you sucked his cock. He loved feeling your mouth on his cock.

"Mmmphh… stwop.” You tried to beg, but his cock was down your throat.

"Do not talk with your mouth full, darling. That is not polite."

You felt him tighten around your neck. His grip was firm.

"I am going to cum. Do not spit. Swallow every drop, and maybe I will reward you. But only if you're a good girl. Do you understand?"

"Mmmph." You tried to protest, but the god didn't listen. You couldn't do anything except suck his cock. Loki kept fucking your mouth until his seed spilled into your throat, you felt the warm liquid slide down your throat making you choke. Your eyes rolled back as you swallowed his seed. He pulled out and released your hands.

You coughed, and gasped for air. "Good girl. Very good girl." Loki patted your head.

You glared at him. You wanted him dead.

"Don't be like that, Y/N. You're supposed to be happy. This is what you wanted, remember? We're together again. Just like old times."

You looked away. "That was a long time ago."

Loki grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him. "But it's not too late. We can have it again. We can have everything. We just have to work together."

"Work together?" You scoffed, "How can we work together? You lied to me!”

“We can talk later, my love. Right now, I need to be inside you.” He stroked his cock, he was still hard even after he came earlier. He spread your legs apart and grabbed a hold of his cock, aiming it towards your wet pussy.

"Now I'm going to fuck you so hard until you pass out. Until I cum deep inside of you and make you mine again. Then when you wake up, I'll fuck you again, and again, and again."

You felt him press his cock against your pussy, his head slid between your folds and penetrated you. "No, Loki, please, I'm sorry."

"It's too late for that."  He stroked down his hard cock even after he just came, he was hard again. He then forced himself inside of you. You screamed in agony. He was too big.

"Oh, stop your whining." Loki chuckled. "You're such a baby. It doesn't hurt that much."

His cock was big that it stretched your open, he didn’t give you time to adjust. You screamed, "You fucking asshole!"

"Watch your mouth, darling. I'm not a fan of that language." Loki slapped your pussy, it was red and swollen from his previous assault. He kept thrusting his hips, his cock pounded you over and over. Your whole body ached from him.

He was holding your waist down with one hand and pumping his hips in and out of your pussy. He continued to thrust in and out of you. He took his time and made sure he hit the spot that would make you scream and beg for more. He knew what you wanted, he knew your body and what made you tick.

You were biting your lip, trying not to give him the satisfaction of hearing you moan for him.

"Why don't you let me hear those beautiful moans, pet?" Loki purred, leaning his face in close to yours. "Don't hold back, you know you want to enjoy this."

"No..."

Loki grinned and snapped his hips hard against yours. "I know what you like, and I know you like this. It's why I keep doing this." He smiled wickedly. Loki picked up the pace. His cock hit the spot inside of you. "It’s okay. You don’t need to be embarrassed, just let it all out."

You bit your lip and gripped his sheets, trying not to make a sound. "Darling, you're so stubborn, you're going to hurt yourself." Loki grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked on it, causing you to moan and look up at him.

"You're fucking psycho!"

Loki began pounding into you even harder. His hand gripped your throat, and you felt yourself grow weaker. fast. "Loki, please..." Your vision began to fade, and you started gasping for air.  “Stop…” Loki's fingers wrapped around your neck, he choked you.

He squeezed them together and pounding his cock into you. You screamed and he slapped your pussy again. He fucked you harder than you'd ever been fucked before. You were sobbing, begging him to stop. Tears ran down your face but he didn't slow down. He kept fucking you harder than before. Your breasts were bouncing wildly as he pounded into you.

You felt him hit a spot inside of you that caused a surge of pleasure to flow through your body.  "That's it, darling." Loki moaned, slamming his hips harder against yours. "Come on, you know you want to."

You felt your orgasm building. You tried to fight the urge, but you couldn't help yourself. He kept pounding into you, his cock rubbing against your g-spot.

"Don’t fight it. You can't resist, so just give in." Loki said thrusting harder and harder, until you were both a moaning, writhing mess. Your walls clenched around his cock, and you arched your back. You moaned loudly as he fucked you harder and faster.

You couldn't fight it anymore, you screamed in pleasure, feeling yourself reaching your peak.

"Fuck, yes! Come for me! Milk my cock, pet"

You cried out as your orgasm crashed over you. Loki didn't stop, he continued thrusting in and out of your pussy. Your body shook uncontrollably. You cried out again, screaming.

"Please, stop." You pleaded, panting.

Loki ignored you, he fucked you harder and harder, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside of you. "I'm going to fill you with my seed. You'll be leaking it out for days. Every time you sit down or move, you'll feel it dripping down your thighs. You'll be mine."

"Please, Loki! No! Pull out!" You begged, trying to push him off of you. But he was too strong. "Why are you doing this to me?" You cried.

"I'm not going to pull out." Loki's fingers wrapped around your neck, he choked you. "After you betrayed me, this is the least you deserve. I'm going to make you pregnant. You'll have a little monster running around. You won’t ever leave me again.”

"No! Loki, stop!" You sobbed, crying out. "I'll do anything! Please don't cum in me."

"It's too late, pet." Loki ignored your pleas, he continued thrusting hard. He rubbed your clit, "Cum with me, my sweet." He was rubbing it harder, making it hard for you to keep up with his thrusts.

You shook your head. Loki growled. "Now."

You gasped, "No! No!" You cried out, trying to pull away. You couldn't fight it anymore. You moaned loudly. Your whole body spasmed with your orgasm, your walls clenching tightly around him.

Loki groaned. You felt him got bigger inside you. He let out a long moan. "Take my cum."  He spilled his hot seed inside you. It filled you, filling you up, some of it spilling out. You could feel it filling your womb, stretching your belly. It was so warm.

He continued to fuck you through his orgasm, pushing more of his cum into you. "No! Please stop!"

Loki laughed, his cock was still hard and pushed his cock back into your pussy. "Oh, but we're not done yet. I'm not finished with you yet." He pushed himself deeper inside you. He was still coming. "This is just the beginning."

"You're fucking insane."

"Yes, I know." Loki was still pumping his cock in and out of you. "I'm going to train your body. You're going to crave me, my cock, and my cum. And every time you see me, you're going to want me to fuck you. You'll need me."

"No!" You cried.

"Yes, yes, you will. Because I'm the only one who can satisfy you." He was thrusting harder, deeper, his pace increasing.

You were afraid he might never stop. And he never did.

It had felt like hours. You lost count on how many times you had orgasmed. It was too much. The room was spinning, the pain and pleasure becoming too much. You were so sensitive, every touch sending you over the edge.

“Loki, please stop. I’m begging you.” You were exhausted, spent, and sore. You couldn’t take it anymore. But you couldn’t stop him, he was too strong and too weak. He kept fucking you over and over again until you were almost at the point of passing out. But he made sure you never did by using his magic to keep you awake.

"Look at your beautiful, stretched pussy. My seed is already filling you."

You whimpered, you could feel it. You could feel the weight of his cum inside you. He never pull out. He kept coming, and his cock kept spurting more and more. You didn’t think it was possible for anyone to have so much cum. He was fucking you again and again.

"You'll learn to love me. You'll learn to beg for me. You'll learn to come on command. You'll learn to obey me. You'll learn to pleasure me. You'll learn to worship me. Because that is how we are, my sweet."

It seemed like an eternity, but finally, he was done. He collapsed onto you, panting heavily. His cock remained buried inside your pussy, and you felt him softening inside you. Your pussy ached from the rough pounding he had given you.

"You are mine, my sweet. Now and forever." He said, giving you a possessive look.

You felt his cum slowly trickle out of you. Your belly was still swollen from the amount he had pumped into you. You had never felt so full. It was like you were a water balloon, and he had been filling you with water.

Loki kissed you deeply. You could barely fight him back, you were too weak. He smiled and ran his hand through your hair. "Now get some sleep, I'll be back to check on you later." Loki got up from the bed and walked away.

The door shut. You laid there, stunned and exhausted. You were still trying to process what had happened, but there was one thing you knew for sure. You were trapped. You were his prisoner.

He was not going to let you go. Ever.

"I hate you, Loki." You whispered.

And you knew he heard it.

E/N : I intentionally made her emotion sway back and forth, torn between desiring him yet hating his actions. They're both twisted in their own ways, perhaps that's why they complement each other.

Honestly, I'm not entirely content with how the story is going; I might rewrite or delete it later, I'm not sure. Nevertheless, thank you for reading!

Let me know if you enjoy dark fics too! I adore them and plan to write more.

[myriadeyed]

“It’s obviously valid to be bugkin but you also can’t just expect people to get over it when they have a genuine fear!”

I’m afraid of dogs.

Dogs put me extremely on edge. I avoid them while outside and if one’s in a room with me I’ll try to leave or else start to panic. Especially medium-sized and larger breeds. Mere images of dogs may not give me a panic attack, I will admit that, it's not a phobia. But if you want to talk hypocrisy, if you're opening up that discussion:

Hey dog therians, dog otherhearted folks and clinical cynanthropes, what if everywhere you went, the unspoken attitude of the alterhuman community was—

Don’t post dog photos or talk about being a dog in the main alterhuman tags. Don’t talk about your shifts, your instincts, or your kind in the main tags. If you’re a CZ, don’t talk so openly about your biological reality. It’s extremely triggering for people with cynophobia. The idea of physically being or becoming a dog grosses them out to briefly think about, so try not to discuss your literal existence. If you must, at least trigger tag yourself with #tw dogs or #tw dog mention so people can stay safe by censoring things that will hurt their mental health. It’s okay if you’re dogkin but in my DNI I'm going to write something like, don’t follow me if your blog hosts too many graphic close-up images of dogs doing dog things, even if you censor them. Don’t add dog photos to open posts in the alterhuman tags, you have no idea who might be sent into a panic attack by images of yourself so you should play it safe and only put them on your own posts. And stop being so offended by people who comment on posts about pet dogs or dog facts saying they want to bleach their eyes or kill it with fire, they can’t help having a phobia.

Not great, is it? Fortunately, and I do genuinely mean that, this is a sentiment you will only see once, on this post, completely satirically. Except it’s just a real sentiment for bug therians/hearted and other invertebrate alterhumans. Of course what I said was satire. But if it pissed you off when you thought it might not be, please, contemplate on that reaction, really spend some time on it.

Also, if you're wondering what I mean by "other invertebrate alterhumans", (and I'm sorry for how heated I got when I was writing this part last night even after editing it down)

You know I’m a bug zoanthrope too, not just a bird? And see above if you're wondering why I never said shit about it, just said I was a centipede therian and even then said I was just questioning and didn't really talk much about it. Am I allowed to talk about it without tagging it #tw body horror, even though I obviously don’t fucking find my own body to be horror? Can I talk about it without tagging it #tw bugs like just the very thing that I am needs to be censored for people's well-being? I'm sorry if I come across judgmental. Offline I constantly interact with people saying they’re a nature lover but centipedes are the only thing on Earth that they still hate. And I have to come online knowing that any of those people could be bloggers in the alterhuman tags and it’s my responsibility to tiptoe around them. “Because centipedes are scary and disgusting.” Because I’m scary and disgusting. My brain is not capable of hearing a difference and I can’t change that. It is so much my reality that it's the same emotional mix of anger and anxiety and hurt that would be (has been, lol) triggered by someone ranting about how much they hate Jews or trans people to me.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just Friends: How It Began

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Summary: You make a new friend.

It's giving

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

There’s more people than you expect. The book club is more of a book crowd. Not exactly what was advertised online. Instead of a circle of only about ten people, there are tables set around the room to seat as man. Each. 

“Find your name tag,” the woman at the table near the entrance explains, “and your table. Everyone has a number.” 

You thank her and find your name tag, sticking it onto your cardigan, right below your collar. You clutch your copy of The Good Earth. It’s well worn. A used copy you found on a thrift shop shelf. You search the room, lost as you take in the other listless faces. 

You check the list of names and find your table number. This isn’t what you were hoping for. You want to make friends. Everyone here is older than you. Noticeably so. And there’s so many. It’s going to be so loud, you won’t be able to focus. You doubt you’ll make any sort of real connection. 

You think of leaving but you’ve come this far. Besides, there’s a spot waiting for you. You find your seat at Table 12 and swing your feet nervously. You tap your fingers on the cover of your book and smile as a pair of white-haired ladies sit down across from you. They don’t acknowledge you as they chatter. You sit back, disappointed. 

Other tables are a little livelier. Several attendees sit at the next table and garble loudly on. It seems like they’re already talking about Pearl S. Buck’s narrative from what you can make out. An older man sits down and you try to think of how to greet him. Oh, no, he seems to know those ladies. All three of them block you out as they ignore your tiny wave. 

“Twelve,” the deep voice gristles over you. The chair next to you scrapes out. An even more worn novel lands on the table next to yours. The man sits. “This everyone?” 

He looks around and you do too. 

“There’s a few more seats,” you say as trace your finger over the spine of the book. You turn to him and pause. He’s familiar. Do you know him? “Um, hi...” You introduce yourself, trying not to cringe.  

He’s younger than the others but still older than you. The silver strands threaded into his dark hair and patched along the edge of his jaw suggest at least a full decade, likely more. You offer your hand stiffly, not sure why you do. You’re not one for shaking hands. He accepts the gesture and your lashes flick in surprise. His fingers are... metal? 

“Bucky Barnes?” You blurt out as he squeezes your hand firmly. 

He drops his chin as if he was hoping to stay covert, “uh, yeah. You beat me to it.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you retract your hand and slap your cheek, “I didn’t mean to. I only... I thought you looked... familiar and then I worried I forgot you from somewhere. But you’re too old to have been in my classes. But I mean... not too old. We had lots of mature students. Mature... just students. Age isn’t... well...” 

He chuckles, “don’t worry about it. More than a century in, I can handle being called old.” 

“I wasn’t-- I didn’t mean... that,” you shake your head. “I’m sorry.” 

“Really, it’s fine. It’s... cute,” he leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. Another duo sits down and make no effort to engage beyond their pairing. He sighs and looks around. “Not very social for a social club.” 

“Mm, no, but maybe once we get started...” you shrug. 

“Maybe,” he sits back and drops his hands onto his lap. “You... don’t have somewhere less... geriatric to be?” 

“Oh, um, well, you know, I have some friends but they only want to go drinking and I get all bubbly in my stummy—stomach, when I drink. So, yeah. I thought maybe I could meet a few tamer friends here.” 

“Huh, well, I assure you, the old ones really aren’t that much different,” he scoffs. “And I get it. Alcohol doesn’t do much for me. Don't like the taste either. It’s all people ever wanna do. Always ‘let’s go for drinks’.” 

You nod. 

“Besides,” he continues, “don’t feel like hanging out with a bunch of dudes who can only talk about fighting the next bad guy. I need a friend who isn’t enhanced or magical.” 

“Right, that sounds...” 

“I know. I'm a grumpy old man complaining about saving the world,” he snorts. “Sorry, I just—I'm like you. Wanna expand outside my circle.” 

“Yeah, makes sense,” you agree. “Looks like you’ve read that a few times.” 

You point to his copy and he peers down. His blue eyes find you again, “first edition. Read it before I shipped off. My sister Rebecca still had it when she passed... she left it behind. It was just sitting in a storage unit.” 

“Oh wow, I... yeah, er--” 

“See, the whole friends thing... tough when there’s only one other guy in the city the same age as you,” he says. 

“It’s nice of her to hold onto it for you,” you finally get your thoughts in line. 

“Yeah, she was nice,” he agrees. “My best friend, but don’t tell Steve I said so.” 

A man sits on your other side and jars you from the plucking of heart strings. He’s balding and thin. “Hi,” you turn to him and give your name, “nice to meet you.” 

He glances at you, “Didn’t know this was open to kids.” 

“Kids?” You echo. You’re well into adulthood. Almost twenty-five. 

“Lay off, she’s being friendly,” Bucky leans over. “It’s a club. We’re supposed to talk about the book.” 

“Yeah, I'm sure she has great insight into the battle between wealth and tradition.” 

Your eyes round. You crane to see around you. You really are the youngest person in the room. You should have known. 

“I’d love to learn,” you say and the man harrumphs. 

Bucky growls, “you sure act like a jackass for putting on airs. She’s being polite.” 

The man sneers, “some idea for a date, boy.” 

“I’m not--” Bucky puts his metal hand on the table, between your books, balling it to a fist as the man gapes. 

“I--” the man begins. 

“Save it,” Bucky says. “Think you may have missed a few themes... you know, about women and oppression.” He drags his hand from the table. “Hey,” he nudges you softly. You almost can’t believe he can be so gentle with the metal limb, “how about we get outta here? They’re showing It Happened One Night just a few blocks down at the old cinema.” 

“Yes! I know. It’s one of my favourites. I was going to go but everyone said it was boring and I didn’t wanna go alone.” You chirp, shying away from your own rambling. 

“Same. So, how about it. Wanna make me look normal?” 

You laugh, “sure. I love popcorn.” 

“Alright, I might save you a few milk duds,” he stands and you do the same. 

You think you’ve made a friend after all. 

[thebowieconstricker]

Hello! I saw you wanted requests for Lucifer, and I would love any sort of angst where Lucifer ends up comforting the reader, like maybe something happened to the reader, or the reader is just really stressed and just breaks down

Ease My Mind

(Lucifer Morningstar x reader)

masterlist link

AN: To this request: yes yes yes yes YES I just KNOW that he gives the best hugs and is so ready to comfort the people he loves. For this fic, I decided the angst is a little of everything, job struggles, moral dilemmas, and some self-doubt, so I hope I delivered. This isn’t proofread so please alert me to any errors! Thank you for your request! <333

Summary: You have a bad day at work and it triggers a breakdown. Luckily, your big bad boyfriend is here to help.

Tags: Gender neutral reader, could be read as platonic if you reeeeally squint but it’s implied romantic, heavy on the angst, a dash of fluff, Lucifer is trying his best, you guys are precious.

Warnings: Reader is afraid they’re being used by the people around them and they have lots of thoughts about being useless and others not liking them.

Also, the title is inspired by the song “Ease My Mind” by Ben Platt, go listen to it! Enjoy ya heathens!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’ve been used by others for your entire life.

And now you were stuck in that same cycle in death.

As a young, naive, alive-person, you were desperate for some one to love you. Growing up in an environment where compassion was scare, you decided that the only way to get people to notice you was by offering to help them in some way. A favor, a ride, somewhere to crash, and, for one specific person, a place to hide the bodies. In life, you had gotten so deep into your desire to please others that you had latched onto the first person to give you the time of day. Unfortunately for you, that individual happened to have a thing for serial killing.

Looking back on it now as you miserably walked back to the hotel, tears threatening to fall down your face, you couldn’t think about anything other than how stupid and useless you were. It was your fault that they were found out, your fault that the innocents were dead in the first place, your fault you were stuck in hell and that fucker was still out there.

How much time had passed on Earth? How many more had they killed?

On most days, you could compartmentalize, putting the bad thoughts in a little box and shoving it in the back of your brain, but work had broken you today. You worked for the Vees, specifically Velvette, and it was no secret how they overworked and abused their staff. You were stuck picking up Velvette’s leftover energy drinks for as long as she had control of your soul.

And yet. You thought maybe someday, someday you might make a connection. You might impress her, or surprise her, or something, and maybe she would give you a break.

But no. Today you had been an hour late for the first time and Velvette had screeched at you, calling out all of your flaws and insecurities and bringing all of the horrible memories that you had oh-so-carefully stowed away to light. But you held back tears and did your fucking job, the emotions boiling all day and the hectic office space doing nothing to calm it.

You had needed this cry for a long time, and now there was no stopping it.

Walking along the brimstone pathways, you finally made your way to the rickety Hazbin Hotel. Its incomprehensible height only worsened your now growing headache as you walked up to the doors, grabbing the handles and swinging the heavy iron frame and red-stained glass open.

You immediately started towards your room, but you were blocked by the obnoxiously cheery Princess of Hell herself, Charlie.

Charlie’s not obnoxious, you’re so vile for thinking that.

Shit, the thoughts were getting worse and you could not do this right now.

Charlie, oblivious to your mood, smiled brightly. “There you are! How was work? I’ve got someone here who’s been waiting-“

You shoved past her, bumping her harshly.

“Not in the mood.”

Charlie frowned in confusion behind you.

“But, wait, hey-“ You ignored her pleas and- ah shit, now Angel’s in front of you.

“Hey, babe, you might wanna hang around for a sec-“

You shut your eyes tightly and moved your hands towards his chest, your fight or flight kicking in as you pushed him.

“ANGEL, leave me alone.”

Why would you yell at Angel like that? He’s just being nice.

Shut up shut up SHUT UP

Everything was only getting worse. You bolted to the grand staircase and raced up the steps. As you sped down the seemingly infinite hallways, the tears you had been fighting back for the last millennia finally fell. With a choked sob, you finally spotted your bedroom and lurched for the doorknob, swinging the door open and slamming it behind you as you bursted into your room. You ran to your bed and grabbed a pillow, hugging it tightly as you loudly cried.

Charlie only keeps you here because she needs the guests, you know. She hates you. They all hate you. They wish you weren’t here. You’re just lying there, crying, why would they want you?

The hateful thoughts were all you could hear in your mind. As you pulled your knees to your arms holding your pillow, you wanted nothing more than to disappear. To just pop out of existence and finally be free of the burden of yourself.

Then, suddenly, three knocks at the door.

“GO AWAY.” You screamed, throat on fire from your sobbing.

A voice came from outside. A smooth, relaxed, kind male voice.

“It’s me, hon.”

You froze, terrified. Quickly you climbed to the floor on the left side of your bed, blocking your body from the view of the door. You took several deep breaths, trying to steady your nerves.

“Come in.” You said shakily.

You heard the door creek open, then footsteps.

“Where ya hiding these days?” He awkwardly chuckled, clearly trying to lighten up the mood you were in.

“Just- stay over there.” You were still holding your pillow, and you gave it an extra squeeze.

“I’m a mess right now.” You sniffled.

He paused, like he was thinking. “Well, if that’s what you want, but I hope you know by now that I’m always happy to see you. Even when you’re a mess.”

You felt the bed shift. He was sitting on the opposite side.

Like a child looking for a secret, you turned around to look at the back of his head. His hat was gone, probably left downstairs, and all you saw was his sweep of blond hair.

He made a ‘hm’ sound. “Bad day?”

You nodded. Then, realizing he couldn’t see you. “Y-yeah.”

You watched him nod. “I’m sorry about that.” He fiddled with his cane, his hands tightening and loosening around it. “Would you… like to talk about it?”

You paused.

Lucifer had been a confidant of yours since you first arrived in Hell. He was the one to tell you what was going on right after you died, calming you down and offering you a place to stay. Sure, you didn’t know that he was literally the Devil, but everything about him made you feel at peace. Like you could deal with the hand you were dealt.

Secretly, though, you were waiting.

Waiting for the moment when he would reveal that he only kept you around because he needed you to do something for him.

No one was that kind, or caring, or wonderful.

He wants something from you. Why else would he keep coming back?

You had yet to answer his question. Lucifer sighed.

“You don’t have to tell me anything. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, okay?”

The voices were still wringing in your head, you were still crying, and you felt pathetic.

“I- I don’t- fuck, would you please stop acting like you care?” You knew your words were harsh but they were begging to be said.

His posture straightened in surprise.

“I do care! What makes you think I don’t care?” He sounded hurt.

Nice going, you hurt his feelings.

You bent forward, hands covering your face in frustration. A fresh wave of tears rises through your body and you loudly cried out, too scared and angry and sad to hide it anymore.

“Woah, woah, hey, it’s okay, hon.” Lucifer’s voice was nearing your form on the ground, and he was quickly at your side. You could feel his presence beside you.

He sighed in exhaustion. “Listen, I’m not- I’m not the greatest at this, but I’m gonna ask so I don’t upset you. Do you want a hug? Or a hand on your shoulder-“

Your arms were wrapped around him before he could finish his question, clinging to his waist and biting your face in his neck.

“WOAH there- well hey, sweetheart, there you are.” You could hear him smiling as he gently brought his hand to rub your back.

“I’m sorry. I- I’ve just had a shitty day at work and I’m worried about a lot of things and- I don’t want to take it out on you.” You were shaking, but he held you steadily.

“What kinda things are worrying you?” He asked.

And so you told him. In the comfort of his embrace you were able to somewhat coherently explain all the things that had been freaking you out. Velvette’s torture at work, your own moral dilemmas about your life on Earth, and you were just getting into your feelings about others using you when you felt Lucifer’s breath hitch.

He leaned away from you to look you in the eyes and gently put a finger to your chin.

“Honey, I want you to know that I know for a fact that the people here really care about you. Not because you’re an extra pair of hands, but because you’re you. You’re wonderful to be around. People like you.”

He looked at you with a warm smile and leaned towards you, giving you a small kiss on the forehead.

“I like you. I care about you because you’re worth caring about.”

You stared at him in awe, your mind finally at ease after such a chaotic day. Smiling, you leaned back into him to rest your head on his chest.

“Thank you, Luci.” You reached out and took one of his hands, holding it tightly in an effort to show him how grateful you truly were for his words of assurance.

He tightened his fingers around yours and grinned down at you.

“Always, love. Now, let’s get you on the bed, okay?”

You nodded and he gracefully picked you up, gently placing you on the bed. With a snap, you were in comfortable clothing with a warm blanket around you and plenty of soft pillows.

“You want me to hang out for a bit?” He looked at you through half-lidded eyes, clearly sleepy.

“If you don’t have anything else going on…” You offered, already half dozing off.

“Even if I did, I would love nothing more.” With an affectionate grin he curled up beside you, and you immediately went to lay your head back on his chest. As you drifted away, listening to the King of Hell’s heartbeat, you took a deep breath.

He was right. Things were gonna be okay.

You had friends.

You were loved.

[fallstaticexit]

The Art of Being Seen - a Nancy Landgraab story

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔒𝔫𝔢 - 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔱𝔥

Prev / Next

AN / Transcript under the cut

AN: Nancy's story will consist of 3 parts: Part One- Youth | Part Two - Uni | Part Three - Wife Three pivotal moments in Nancy’s life that shaped the Nancy we know today.

As mentioned in the prologue, this story may contain mature and possibly even uncomfy themes and all posts will have their corresponding trigger warners in the post as well as the tags. Trigger Warnings are: Homophobia / Religious Trauma / Death via Car Accident/ Drugs / Alcohol / Infidelity / Sex & Nudity

Also, I have experienced CAS burnout lately, so I aged down most of the townies to teens lol. I figured this version of Cassandra Goth can be the AU version since I’ve already wrote Bella and Morti Goth into my Briar legacy, which this story is apart of that universe.

Transcript:

Cassie: This is Blair Hall, the senior girls’ dorm, and if you ask me, it’s the best one. We have our own private library. Down there is the rec room; we’re not allowed to have the boys over unless it’s with a chaperone.

Cassie: We’re also the closest to the church, which is great for when we have group sessions before service. You won’t have to rush and scarf down breakfast, plus you can sleep in a little!

Nancy: [sarcastically] Gee, how’d I get so lucky?

Cassie: Sister Agnes always says, It’s not luck—it’s a blessing! Vacancies are hard to come by. My old roomie withdrew; she had a really hard time fitting in with the other girls. They can be... kind of intense.

Dina: Oh, look. Another pretty blonde rich girl. Like those aren’t a dime a dozen here.

Nina: [scoffs] Here we go...

Dina: I am not joking. I better not catch her ass around Don. The last hoochie he was tonguing down was also a skinny, flat-chested, blonde bimbo.

Vanessa: You need to put his weenie in a cage instead of fighting every girl that breathes the same air as him.

Dina: Well, he wouldn’t be tempted if these floozies would stay away from my man!

Vanessa: I guess dyeing your hair blonde isn’t working for you, huh?

Dina: Oh, shut it, VV. You’re just jealous he isn’t into redheads.

Nina: Hmm, I thought he was into redheads though.

Dina: Ugh, as if!

Cassie: You can pretty much decorate your space however you want. Just nothing that’s on the prohibited list. There’s a room check every night before curfew, and-

Nancy: What do you know about that redhead on the balcony?

Cassie: Dina?

Nancy: No, she said her name was Vanessa. I ran into her this morning but she didn’t mention her last name.

Cassie: Oh, yeah! VV. Vanessa Villareal. She’s- eh, one of the mean girls. I try to stay out their way. Probably best you do the same.

Nancy: [softly to herself] Villareal. So, she’s old money, too.

Cassie: Her family built the school. Guess that’s why she feels like she can do whatever she wants- eh, don’t tell anyone I said that!

Cassie: But, erm, you’re welcome to hang out with me and my friends during rec and lunch and stuff. I know how tough it can, being the new girl and all.

Nancy: Yeah? ...thanks- Cassie, was it?

Cassie: You’ll totally like my friends. They’re the coolest people on Earth.

Cassie: Definitely better than some people. You can tell who goes here because of their faith and who was forced here because of their lack of it.

Cassie: Hey guys! This is Nancy, she’s my new roomie.

Bob: No way, they filled Angela’s spot already? Money talks. I’m Bob, or Bobby, and this cool, tall drink of water is Geoffrey. Welcome to Paradise.

Bob: [whispers] Geoffrey! Say something to the pretty girl!

Geoffrey: [voice cracks] W-we’ve um, met already.

Geoffrey: Our dad’s are friends. I just haven’t seen her since we were 10 years old. She looks so... different.

Bob: Oh, I seeee. First love? Your ears are beet red, my man.

Bob: Take a seat, newbie! Are you into D&D, perchance?

Nancy: I have no idea what that is.

Bob: Oh, ho ho! You’re in for a treat, m’lady. I’ll catch you up from the beginning of our campaign.

Vanessa: You look so bored. Want to get out of here, new girl?

Vanessa: Don’t worry, I’ll return you back to your nerds in one piece.

Cassie: [grumbles] Um, hello, we’re sitting right here?

Nancy: Go where, exactly? This place is in the middle of nowhere.

Vanessa: Guess you’ll have to come and find out.

Nancy VO: [I learned then, that I would follow her anywhere]

Dina: There she goes, taking in another stray.

Nancy VO: [All she had to do was take my hand]

[emilys-bangs]

Hiii can I please request an Emily fic where Emily takes care of reader during a bad mental health day? Something that’s lots of comfort/ fluff and just Emily being a really sweet and understanding gf :) thank you, love your writing! 🫶🏻

Hi tysm🫶🏼🫶🏼 and thank you for requesting!

————

Bad day | emily prentiss x reader

Tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, use of petnames, no use of yn, reader has a bad day

Word count: 1.6k

You wake to an empty bed. And the moment you do, you feel the familiar weight on your chest, like a thousand pounds had been dumped on your lungs, crushing them, compressing them. When you move to rub your eye, a heavy sluggishness resides in your limbs. It’s like cement runs through your veins instead of blood, making the simple act of lifting your arm unbearably heavy.

Giving up, you drop your hand and close your eyes, sinking back into darkness—as much darkness as could be found in the bright room; apparently Emily had taken the liberty of pushing open the curtains after she’d gotten up.

It’s rare that she gets up before you. Emily loves to sleep, loves soaking in lazy hours of the morning in bed with you, her nose buried in your hair, her leg thrown over yours. On the days you don’t have to work, tearing her out of bed is an insurmountable struggle. It’s where she feels most at home; between your arms, nestled in soft, warm sheets, laughs and kisses passed from her lips to yours.

Maybe that should’ve been your first sign—that you’d been asleep heavily enough that you hadn’t noticed her slip out of bed, your body subconsciously readying itself for the day ahead.

The day you never know how to deal with.

“Morning, babe.” Emily chirps, achingly beautiful with her hair tucked behind her ears, the sunlight painting her golden as she pads across the room and to your side of the bed, her tiny shorts barely visible beneath her baggy Yale tee. She holds a plate of French toast in one hand and a mug of perfectly prepared coffee in the other.

It almost hurts, how much you love her. In many ways she feels like your salvation, with her soft hands and lips, her gentle brown eyes, the warm comfort of her arms and the soothing cadence of her voice. But some days, like today, even her presence can’t ease the tightness in your chest, the weary heaviness in your bones.

“Morning,” you mumble back, decidedly less enthusiastic.

She doesn’t linger on your tone, probably chalking it up to the early hour. “I made your favorite,” she singsongs, her eyes shining bright as she sets down the plate and coffee on your nightstand.

Your stomach already roils with something heavy, uncomfortable. A strange weight settles in your gut like cement and there’s a lump in your throat, your tongue numb. 

“I don’t want it.” Your voice is low, similar to that of a petulant child’s. It’s flat and distant, and your girlfriend tilts her head in question.

She frowns, a small scrunch between her perfect brows. “Why not, honey? You usually love my French toast.” Her lips tilt up into a smile, but her eyes are searching on yours, digging, cataloging—profiling.

That makes you turn away. “Not hungry,” you speak into her pillow, a strange throbbing behind your eyes making your vision blur. The smell of her French toast is the same as it always is—buttery and drenched in sweet syrup—but it makes your empty stomach lurch, for what reason you don’t know.

There’s usually no warning that precedes these days. No alarm bells going off, no trigger that sends you into a spiral of tears and racing thoughts. Vaguely, you know that these are classified as bad days, even when no life changing, earth shattering crisis occurs.

Sometimes it’s all just in your head.

The mattress dips as Emily places her knee next to your hip, hovering over you as her hand softly falls to your forehead.

“Hey,” she murmurs, swiping your hair away from your cheek, “you okay?”

Tears form hot in your eyes. You shake your head and they fall onto the pillow, staining it, soaking the fabric.

Emily inhales sharply when she sees them. Her touch is feather light but somehow still impossibly sturdy as she wipes away the warm tears and hooks her finger under your chin, forcing your gaze on hers. “Baby, what’s wrong?” She breathes.

It’s one pet name she almost never uses with you, except for the achingly soft—rare—vulnerable moments between you and her. In the pale, pale, morning light, your hand warm between her thighs, your touch sending her into a spiral, her lashes fluttering and her panting breaths skipping across your skin as she pulls you in for a kiss. In the midnight blue of the living room, when you’re drowsy and tripping over your feet, barely awake as she supports you with a gentle hand around your waist, guiding you to bed. When one of you is hurt, blood streaked on your skin, bruises marring your bodies and tears making your eyes go glassy, either from being injured or watching your love go through the pain.

So when she says that to you, the floodgates open in earnest.

You’re a sobbing mess as she takes you into her arms, the food and coffee forgotten, nothing existing in time except for you and her and your tears, your unexplainable grief, her warm hands, her soothing voice. She whispers nonsense into your ears and strokes your hair, her short nails hitching against your scalp every so often.

The pressure in your lungs mounts and you collapse into her, wanting to feel something familiar amongst all the wrongness in your body, your mind.

“I don’t feel…right.” You hiccup, tightly clenching her shirt in your fists. Her hand is warm on the back of your neck and you bury your face under her jaw, breathing in the faint hints of the lotion she lathers on before bed, intertwined with the scent of sugar and syrup.

“In what way, mon ange?” She asks, as breathless as you are, her voice overflowing with concern as she holds you tighter. A kiss is pressed to your hair and you tremble, a sob getting trapped in your throat.

“Every way. Bad day.” You choke out through the tears. 

Emily doesn’t say anything else. She holds you, lets you cry your eyes out and soak her shirt with tears, soothing murmurs in French and Italian falling to your ears as she rocks you back and forth. You don’t know how long it takes before the tears slow and your breathing evens, your throat going dry as Emily continues kissing your forehead and rubbing your back.

When you quieten down completely she leans back to look at you. “I’m somewhat of an expert on bad days,” she whispers, giving you a tiny smile as she wipes the hair away from your wet cheeks. “Baths help,” she tells you softly, rubbing between your shoulder blades, “wanna try with me?”

It’s hard to think a bath could help ease the jumbled mess you feel like you are right now. But you trust her implicitly, so you nod. 

Emily’s responding smile is gentle. She tenderly wipes away your tears and kisses your forehead before helping you up off the bed, into the bathroom. Her arm is warm around your waist as she makes you sit on the lid of the toilet and turns to draw the bath.

You watch her with heavy eyelids, sniffling quietly as she checks the temperature of the water, making sure it’s hot before it fills the tub. When it’s full she walks over to you, holding her hands out. 

Taking them shakily, you let her help you out of your pajamas and into the warm water. She sinks to her knees on the edge of the tub and gives you a small smile, her concerned eyes locking with yours. You tug at her hand, your fingers tightly linked with hers.

“Em,” you rasp, pulling her toward you, and she nods.

“Okay, sweetheart.”

She’s shedding her clothes and settling in behind you without you having to say much else. Her hands gently bring you back into her chest and she kisses the back of your head. “Just close your eyes,” she murmurs, “it might help.”

You hear her scoop up water in her hands, then feel the warmth of it as it soaks your scalp. Slowly, methodically, she washes your hair and works the shampoo into your scalp until it lathers, the refreshing scent of eucalyptus permeating through the steam. Just as gently, she washes it off, then starts to work on your body.

In that moment, you feel so fit to burst with love that silent tears run down your cheeks, dripping into the bubbly bath water. Emily kisses the tears off—the ones she can catch before they outrace her—and murmurs I love you’s into your skin until the water grows cold.

After the bath she dresses you in her warm satin pajamas, her lips pressing kisses on your skin as she tucks you back into bed, despite the brightly shining sun outside. 

“I’m not tired,” you protest despite the sluggishness in your bones. Emily slides the curtains closed and climbs back into bed with you.

“It won’t hurt to close your eyes, mon ange.” She kisses your forehead and gathers your wet hair in her hands, splitting it into three sections. She starts braiding without combing through the tangles, probably sensing your dishonesty. “Are you hungry?”

Closing your eyes, you shake your head. Emily hums and finishes off the braid, draping it over your pillow so it doesn’t dampen your clothes.

You turn to her, the lump in your throat lessened somewhat. “Thank you.” Your voice trembles.

Emily tsks lightly as she cups your cheek and kisses your temple. “There’s nothing to thank me for.” She whispers. Gently laying your head back down on the pillow, she lies down next to you, on top of the covers. 

A small smile tugs at her lips, tinged with worry. Before you can return it, your eyes shutter closed, exhaustion from crying your heart dry making you too tired to keep them open any longer. 

“Stay with me?” You slur as you fall fast into the dark comfort of sleep.

Her hand engulfs yours. “Always.”

Please let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments mean the world! If you have any Emily prompts, drop them in my inbox <3

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) - Chapter Eleven

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plan brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

(Let me know if you want to be added to the Tag List!)

____________________________________________

Author note: Dear Hoteliers, This chapter might be extremely triggering to some readers. I struggle with panic attacks and designed this chapter to emulate what I go through when I experience one. It also implies a history of abuse. If you wish to skip that particular section but still want to read, there will be a warning before and a note of where to pick up after.

Another short one before things get good!

<3 Stay smutty

Chapter Eleven - Lucifer's Visit

Content Warning: Minors DNI! Mentions of Substance Abuse, Mentions of Physical Abuse, Panic Attack

“Here, drink this,” Angel handed you a cup as you sat up in bed. “It’ll help.”

You brought the smokey liquid to your lips, it burned on the way down. He had given you a glass of straight whiskey. You welcomed the pain, it helped ground you. 

“What happened?” He wiped the hair sticking to your face. 

You sniffed, looking down at the glass. You had spent the entire night crying and when it was over you didn’t feel like talking much. So, Angel grabbed his laptop and the two of you watched a movie in bed.

Now it was morning - time to face the elephant in the room.

“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.”

“Try me,” he sat back on the bed, leaning against one of the wooden pillars. 

You told him everything, and when you were done, all he could do was stare at you. 

“So, let me get this straight. You kissed Alastor?” His jaw dropped. “Yous was right. I don’t believe ya’."

“I just told you I was an Angel tasked with hunting down Eve on Earth for the past hundred years and that’s what you’re focusing on?” 

“Well, yeah? I don’t give a shit about that. Frankly, it explains a lot. But you’re in Hell, kid. There ain’t a pure soul down here. Fuck, Alastor murdered people for a livin’ and then ate ‘em. I really don’t think he’d care that ya’ were some big and important Angel who ditched Heaven for a vacation in Hell. Lucifer literally did the same fuckin’ thang.” 

“That’s not the part I’m worried about. The kind of power I have isn’t acquired by a soul deal. I don’t really have one like Human Sinners do.” You breathed. “The power I have you take through death.”

“Ooooooh, you’re worried he’s gonna try to kill ya’.” Angel finished for you. 

You told him about Carmilla and how Velvette was able to do that much damage to you. “If he knew how easy it would be to take what I have...”

You didn’t tell Angel about the tattoo, about what you took from Eve when you found her, because you did find her. That would be too much even for Angel to handle. Rosie went an entire week thinking you were yanking her chain before she finally realized you were serious. 

“Wait, why are you at the Hotel?” 

“I don’t even know anymore…” you covered your face in your hands. 

“Wow,” Angel gawked. “This is like a fucking Soap Opera.” 

“What have I done, Angel?” You sniffed. “I shoulda just gone back to the Seraphim and told her what happened. Then maybe I wouldn’t be in this mess.” 

“Or you’d be dead,” Angel pointed out. “From what it sounds like, Heaven isn’t all rainbows and sunshine. They’re fucked up too.” 

“Yeah…” you wiped your eyes. 

“You should tell him.”

“What!?” 

“I know how this is going to go. You’re gonna go down there and torture yourself the entire time Lucifer is visitin’. Ya’ gonna do everything you can to avoid him - barely even look at 'em. And for what? Because he may or may not reject you after knowing the truth? Ya' don’t know what he’s gonna do, dollface. Unless you tell him. He tries to kill you afterward, then ya' have your answer, but at least you aren’t torturin' yourself in fuckin’ limbo with the whole ‘will he, won’t he’ bullshit!” 

He’s right. 

“I’m right, and you know it.”

Fucker.

“When is Lucifer do?” 

Angel checked his phone. “Any minute.”

“Fuck,” you jumped up from your bed and ran for the door, completely ignoring the fact that you looked like a mess and wearing the same clothes as yesterday...

“Wait! You're doin’ this right now!?” Angel called after you. 

“You’re right! Besides, if Lucifer recognizes me, it’s game over. Better Alastor hear it from me beforehand.” You fly to the foyer - static licking down your spine - making it halfway down the stairs before Lucifer’s voice finds you. 

“Ahaha. Well, it's not very clever!

“Ha, ha! Fuck you.”

Oh, no! He was already here!

Charlie jumps in between the two of them. “Okay! Okay, anyway. Dad, look at this lovely parlor where people can get to know each other and share secrets and stories and intimate feelings! Without Alastor, we wouldn't have been able to pretty it up this much. See…” 

Charlie spins him about until they see you descending from the stairs. You give an awkward wave, your feet finding the wood floor. 

“Oh, oh! Dad!” Charlie shoves the King of Hell across the floor. He comes to a stop directly in front of you. “This is Thestral, one of our newest and most promising guests.”

Please, please work. You subconsciously rub the black ink on your left forearm, hidden beneath your red sweater. 

“Hello, sir, nice to meet you,” You hold out your hand. 

He gives you a confused look, his eyes scanning your form. “Do I know you?” 

You laugh awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck. “No. No. I don’t think so. I’m sure I would have remembered meeting the King of Hell, after all.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

“Right,” he finally shakes your hand. Alastor comes to stand directly next to Charlie, shooting a glance over her shoulder at the King of Hell. He narrows his eyes at him. 

Lucifer is exactly as you remembered him. God, what had it been? Ten thousand years? Who even keeps track of time anymore... Yet, Lucifer hadn't changed a bit. Falling from Heaven hadn't even left a mark...

Your heart panged in your chest.

“Ahem, Charlie! Dear, eheh, why don't you introduce me to your OTHER friends?” Lucifer awkwardly laughs. 

Charlie pulls him away to Vaggie next. 

He didn’t recognize you! Your heart sinks. He didn’t recognize you…

Alastor comes to stand next to you, his eyes following Lucifer around the room. The Radio Demon’s static prickles your skin. He’s irritated - at you or Lucifer or both. 

“I didn’t realize how much Charlie looks like him…” You mumble. “I mean, I knew, but didn’t really know…”

Alastor side-eyes you, his demeanor that of the infamous Radio Demon. You tried hard not to picture him as his brown-haired, tan-skinned self. You tried not to picture the look on his face the moment the mask slammed back into place. You tried and failed...

“Looks like you could use some help…” Lucifer starts. 

“Excuse me,” Alastor gives you a short bow before jumping into the fray. 

You watched the chaos from the sidelines, Angel joining you moments later. A small giggle escaped you when Alastor dropped the piano on Lucifer. 

His eyes found yours for a beat before he jumped into a piano duet with Lucifer’s violin. Your heart skipped a beat when your eyes met, his smile faltering but a moment, before his mask slipped back into place. 

God, why did your heart hurt so bad?

“You okay?” Angel put a hand on your shoulder. You could feel Husk shooting questioning glances at you from across the room as he helped Sir Pentious up from the floor. How long had he been passed out?

Fuck, you were probably going to have to catch Husk up after all this. 

“Yeah,” you mumbled. 

You debated turning around and marching yourself right back to your room. Maybe hide until Lucifer finally leaves, and then you could talk to Alastor? It was probably best. Your presence here would just make things worse - especially considering how pissed off Alastor already was. 

If you asked Angel to hide you away in his room for the rest of the day he’d do it in a heartbeat. You could build a cocoon on his bed and watch old movies together. Fat Nuggets could cuddle and fall asleep in your lap. Did you have any lemon tarts left, you think? Or had Angel snuck into your room and finished them off while you were gone? You hoped he had - or at least hoped Nifty threw them away (even if it meant her trespassing yet again). They were most likely bad by now. 

You turned, debating asking Angel, but he looked so intrigued with the King of Hell you thought better of it. Not every day Royalty stays at the Hotel. 

You were better off alone right now anyway. 

“Mimzy!” Alastor cheered, he opened his arms for a hug. 

Shit! You took a step behind Angel, praying the club owner hadn’t seen you. 

She chatted with Alastor and Charlie. While she was distracted, you inched your way to the stairs…

“You! Don’t you move!” She used her angry voice. Angel took a big side step out of the way, clearly afraid of the small demon. Traitor…

She grabbed you by the ear and pulled you down to her level. You winced against the pain in your torso. “Where the fuck have you been!?”

“Mimzy,” Alastor warned, his eyes narrowing at the tiny demon. “We talked about this.”

His static prickled your skin, his green aura beginning to fill the room.

“No!” She waved her finger at him. “I wanna hear it from the dame, well?” She turned to you, her eyes shooting daggers.

“Mimzy, I…” you started, but words weren’t coming to you. Everyone was looking at you. It was too much. 

“Well, hello there!” Lucifer took a step in front of Mimzy, cutting her off from Alastor. 

“Oh, my stars! Are you Lucifer?” She dropped her hold on your ear. “Pleased to meetcha, Your Highness.” She curtsied and then turned to the Radio Demon. “Alastor, you gotta warn a girl when she’s in mixed company.” 

“Charmed. I’m sure,” Lucifer gave a pained smile.

Alastor butts in, “As much as I'd love to catch up, Charlie and I have a tour to continue.” 

Lucifer grabs onto his daughter, “I'm sure Charlie can handle showing me around.

“Nonsense!” The Radio Demon grabs Charlie and drags her forward. “We started the hotel together, and we'll show it off together. Right, Charlie?”

“Oh, right!” 

This was so painful to watch. 

Alastor turns to Mimzy, “Why don't you let the others help you settle in, and I'll be back before you know it!” 

They disappeared down the hallway. 

Finally, you could breathe. 

The others gathered at the bar to hear Mimzy gab about Alastor, but you had had enough of the Radio Demon for one day. Everything was a mess, but it couldn’t be solved until after Lucifer left. Which would probably be a while. Instead, you turned and headed for the music room on the other side of the hotel. 

You needed something to do. Hiding in your room would probably just make you stir crazy - plus, all you would do was panic. You debated going for a flight around the City, but you didn’t know how your muscles would hold up in your torso during the flight. You were healing, slowly but still healing. If you ripped something, you’d have to run all the way across town to Rosie, and you were not about to go asking for a chastisement, that’s for sure.

So you turned and headed for the piano room. You grabbed a random piece of music - something you’d played a hundred times - and began to play softly. 

You played for what felt like hours, just letting your mind go numb, your thoughts only on the music. And then you felt eyes on you. Not the prickle of static, so it wasn’t Alastor or Rolf. You spun and met Lucifer’s gaze.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he waved anxiously. “I just… I snuck away and heard you playing and was curious.” 

“You snuck away?” You scrunched your nose. 

“Yeah, yeah…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “That Hotel Manager is…”

“A lot,” you finished for him. 

“I was going to say insane, but you put it much nicer,” he gripped his cane. 

He looked like he didn’t want to leave, but didn’t have a reason to stay. If anyone knew how much Alastor could be, it was you. 

“You play, correct?” You asked, waiving him over. 

“Yeah, how did you…”

“There’s this duet I’ve been wanting to try for so long,” you pulled a book of music out from the bench. “Do you mind?” 

His smile was one of joy and relief. “Not at all.”

You lined the music sheets on the piano, quickly pointing out the trickier parts. You focused on some of the harder parts, playing out a few measures, before finally turning to the beginning. 

“Ready?” You beamed.

He nodded and away you played. Franz Schubert’s Fantasia was a twenty minute song, but you only focused on the first movement, which was only four. It was an intense piece, with very strong emotion and parts which could get quite loud and others so quiet your fingers barely touched the keys at all. 

Hell, it was fun. You found yourselves laughing partway through it, especially when you got so into it you bumped heads together. 

When was the last time you and Lucifer did something like this? When was the last time you heard his laugh or saw him smile? Lucifer had been gone from Hell longer than you could remember him being a part of it.

The memories you two shared… You missed him.

You finished the movement and jumped when a crowd of clapping echoed behind you. The Hotel Natives were all standing in the doorway. Everyone was there - including Alastor, but he wasn’t clapping. 

“That was amazing!” Charlie jumped, bringing the two of you into a hug. 

Your face heated from the attention, but your eyes didn’t leave Alastor’s. 

He was livid. Or wait... You followed his line of sight, which you had assumed was on you, but you were wrong. It was on Lucifer.

"...jealousy is not an emotion I am accustomed to..."

God, he doesn't know...

Mimzy stomped up and grabbed you by the ear again, stopping your train of thought. “I expect you back at the club this weekend!” 

BOOM! The entirety of the Hotel shook.

“Que carajo!” Vaggie groans as the crew heads for the lobby. 

You hesitated, knowing Alastor was never one to run headfirst into a fight. The demon made eye contact with you, but it wasn't anger you necessarily saw. It was suspicion. You swore, however, as he melted into shadow, you smelled a hint of vinegar wafting off the demon - hurt.

Alastor was hurting...

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You hadn’t seen Alastor in days and as everyone waited to hear back from Lucifer, the Hotel returned to its usual order of operations. The only solace in knowing he was alive were the screams playing continuously on the radio. 

The demon was on a rampage.

You got up, made everyone coffee for breakfast, went through a new round of trust exercises put on by Charlie, played at the club in the late afternoon, and ended the day with a drink at the bar with the boys before finding the library with a good book.

You eventually had to fill in Husk. It wasn’t fair that Angel knew everything, but Husk only had half the story. For Husk, he had known you were in Hell a lot longer than 6 years, but he kept quiet. The bar cat knows how to keep his nose clean.

After you explained everything, he confessed to Angel that he knew you from long ago when he was an Overlord. You originally used Husk as an ally in the early stages before you "fell." He was a contact for you and Eve, someone to trust (to whatever degree that might have been) once your plans turned more south - to Hell. You were supposed to link up with him 6 years ago, but come to find out, he had fallen from power. You were pointed in Rosie's direction by someone you hesitate to call an ally - let's just say partner.

The Vees had gone quiet after the attack. You didn’t know if they were in mourning or if they were planning something big. Either way, the silence couldn’t be good. Perhaps Vox finally got the hint that you weren’t interested?

At about day five Rosie removed the stitches. You didn’t talk much at the visit even though she knew something was wrong. You just didn’t have the heart to hash it out all over again while she sat there and smiled and told you everything was going to be alright. You didn’t need the false hope. 

The truth was you felt hollow, like a shell of yourself. The boys did their best to cheer you up, but it was no substitute for what your heart needed. Night after night you couldn’t sleep, the silence of the hotel deafening. You couldn’t find a record table. You didn’t dare turn on the radio. No way were you going to buy anything else electronic or another phone - Vox didn’t need easy access to your life. So, the bags under your eyes deepened, your anxiety festered more and more, and your drinking became more frequent. 

Eventually, you gave up the wine and switched to whiskey - the burn giving you something to feel other than numb. 

God, how had you let him work his way so far into your soul (if Angels had a soul)? When had he become someone you relied on to live your everyday life? Why did it feel like a part of you had died when Alastor left? 

Day seven, Angel and Husk held an intervention. 

“Alright, kid,” Husk slammed the whiskey bottle down on the table in front of you. “This has to stop. I can’t keep watching you kill yourself over someone who doesn’t deserve it.” 

“Husk…” you started to protest when a portal opened up behind you. 

Lucifer stepped through, a worried look across his face.

“Hey…. Guys…” Oh, so cringey. “Is Charlie here?” 

The three of you pointed simultaneously. The King awkwardly shuffled into Charlie’s office. 

A few moments later, you heard a scream of glee and a flurry of thank-yous. It sounds like Charlie got her meeting. 

“He isn’t worth it, kid,” Husk continued. 

Irritation prickled the back of your neck. You did not want to hear this right now. You didn’t want to hear this ever. You’ve been avoiding any conversation about it all week with either Husk or Angel. They had tried, naturally, but you’ve managed to blow them off every time. Not anymore. This had to stop. 

“Husk, I am sick and tired of the two of you constantly lecturing me,” you pinched the bridge of your nose between forefinger and thumb, the flames beneath your skin threatening to break through. A spark of static danced its way down your spine. 

“We are just trying to look out for you…”

“Well, don’t!” You snapped, the flames surfacing. “I don’t need to be babied all the time. I’m a fucking Overlord for fuck’s sake. I don’t need to be looked after, let alone babysat by a has-been at rock bottom, who was dumb enough to gamble away all his power in a game of cards!” 

Husk blinked, not entirely listening to your rant, his eyes fixated on your arms. You followed his gaze downwards to the flames dancing across your skin. 

Green, your flames were green. 

“Is that…?” Angel started. 

“Alastor’s Hellfire.” 

You held your hand out and concentrated the flames in the palm of your hand, watching as the green danced amongst your fingers. It felt… warm. Not like the heat of fire, but warm like Alastor’s shadow. A small buzz of static creeped across your palm where the flames met your skin, the same way it dances down your spine whenever he enters a room, whenever you feel his presence nearing yours. 

What was happening? 

“How are you doing that?” Husk breathed. 

Your mind flashed back to New Orleans, to the kiss you shared on the dance floor, to the flames that practically burned the establishment to the ground. Then to Alastor's apartment when you combined your power to destroy the cellphone. In that moment you felt a bond connect between you and Alastor stronger than any soul contract you had ever made. Did that have something to do with what was happening with your magic now?

“I don’t know.” You extinguish the flame, your mind flitting through a million explanations. “Husk…” You were too afraid to ask the question. “Have you ever heard of Sinners being able to share their magic with another?”

The cat demon thought a moment before shaking his head. “I’ve seen a lot of things, kid, but that isn’t one of them.” 

You turned to Angel.

"Don't look at me, I ain't know shit about nothin'."

Out of curiosity, you held your hand out again, summoning flame - yet this time, it was blue. How strange… If you somehow had access to his power did that mean he had access to yours? Panic sparked within your core at the thought. 

Did he have access to the well of magic you stole from Eve?

“Thanks, Dad!” Charlie’s voice echoed throughout the foyer. The Princess led her girlfriend and Lucifer to the bar, practically bouncing on her toes as she informed you of the good news. “We have a meeting with Heaven!” 

You did your best to muster a smile, pushing down the wave of emotions washing over you. Trying not to make too much eye contact with Lucifer, you hugged the Princess, wishing her luck. Despite everything, your master plan was still moving forward. All that was left was for the Princess’ plans to be utterly rejected by the Holy Court, and then your direct manipulation could begin.

This was great! This was… great? If it was great, why did you still feel so low? Why did your heart still hurt? 

Charlie bounced back, twirling amongst the group as she screamed in glee before listing off a million things she was going to pack for the trip. “And you’re coming with me!” She scooped Vaggie into a hug. The ex-Exorcist did not look pleased. Perhaps the Princess didn’t know of her girlfriend’s origins, for she definitely would not have asked her to come along if she had. 

"Knock, knock!"

Holy fucking shit.

"Anybody home?" A familiar voice rang out.

The entire party turned to find Vox, striding through the doors, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a cellphone in the other.

Holy shit this guy SERIOUSLY can’t take a hint.

Husk and Angel both moved in front of you, blocking Vox’s view.

“Vox, what are you doing here?” Vaggie pulled out her spear, closing the distance before Vox got too close. The ever protective girlfriend held the point to his throat, but the media demon was unphased.

“Ah, who are you again?” The media demon nonchalantly raised an eyebrow.

“Vaggie!” Charlie placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. He doesn’t mean any harm. He’s just here for an update on Thestral.”

“What!?” Angel and Husk both choked out at the same time.

“Yeah…” Charlie awkwardly smiled. “He’s been stopping by… Didn’t I tell you guys…?”

“I thinks I woulda remembered somethin’ like that, toots,” Angel spat.

“Oh…” Charlie cringed.

Yeah, “forgot.” Sure, Princess. Fuck, what has she been telling him? What does Vox know!?

“Oh!” Nifty appeared at the base of Vox’s boots. “A bad boy!”

The media demon took a step back, clearly uncomfortable with the small demon’s gaze. Vaggie picked her up and pulled her aside.

“Charlie, is this one of your friends?” Lucifer slides himself into the conversation.

Vox’s jaw drops. “Oh, my god! You’re him! You’re the Lucifer!”

“Well,” Lucifer brushed invisible dirt off his shoulder. “I don’t mean to brag but yes, it is I, you’re humble King.”

Vox sure knows how to captivate an audience and Lucifer was playing right into the palm of his hand.

“Vox of Voxtek Technologies, at your service sir,” the media demon shakes Lucifer’s hand. “I must say, you are even more handsome in person.”

“Ouch!” Electricity zaps the King’s arm, causing him to flinch away. “Ha, ha, you flatter me…”

“Not at all! I believe you’re in the running for one of Hell’s most eligible bachelors?” The media demon winked. “Check your phone.”

The King pulled out his cellphone - complete with a rubber duck charm - which Vox zapped, sending the screen straight to a news article. The King was so entranced with what was written that he forgot the situation completely.

Why did Vox and Lucifer have to get along!?

“What the fuck?” Angel pulled out his phone and started flipping through news sources to hunt down whatever the fuck Vox was talking about. “Oh, shit it’s all over Vitter!*”

Oh, Angel and gossip...

The spider demon tried to show you his phone but you shooed him away.

Priorities, Angel!

“Actually, Vox,” Charlie smiles, her hands behind her back. “You’ve come on a good day because Thestral is…”

“No way!” Husk closes the distance, leaving Angel still guarding your side. The cat demon crosses his arms over his chest, shooting Vox a death glare. “He needs to go, now.”

“Well hello there little pet, where’s your master?”

“Like Hell I would tell you anything!”

“So he’s still making chaos in the Doomsday District then?” Vox prods but Husk says nothing.

“Well then,” Vox readjusts his suit. “That answers that question. On to more pressing, business. Where is she?”

“You aren’t going anywhere near her,” he threatens. The bartender wasn’t backing down, if anything he sized the media demon up, as if weighing his options. Fuck, you didn’t know what Husk was still capable of but you didn’t want to find out.

“Oh, down kitty.” Little sparks of electricity shoot out of Vox’s antenna.

“Hey! Don’t call me a kitty, you fu-“

“Husk,” you interrupt him. Emerging from behind your protective wall of white and pink fluff, you coax the bartender away from Vox. “It’s okay. I can take it from here,” you squeeze the demon’s paw before turning to Vox.

Mustering your most sincere smile, you say to the demon, “Hey Vox.”

“Babe! You look great! These are for you!” He thrusts the flowers into your hands

Blue Forget-Me-Knots, how original.

“What are you doing here?” You tried not to sound annoyed, you really did, but acting was Angel’s strong suit not yours. Hell, you’ve become a fantastic liar but keeping your feelings contained was a whole other battle.

“To check-in. I haven’t been able to get ahold of you and you getting hurt was my fault so…”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Your fault?”

“Yeah,” the demon’s gaze met the floor. “Charlie said you were on your way to V Tower to see me when the attack happened.”

You side glanced the Princess whose face was turning pink. What exactly had Husk and Angel told her happened?

“Anyway, I just…” The demon rubbed his neck and huffed. “Here!” Vox pulled out two things: a new phone and a watch.

Oh, here we go again.

“As an apology. Voxtek’s latest and greatest!” The demon posed with the electronics.

“Holy shit! Is that the new VWatch?” Angel asked. “That thang ain’t even out on the market yet!”

You shot him an exasperated look. Which team are you on, Angel?

Vox took your hand in his, fastening the watch around your wrist. “I’ve already connected it to your phone!” The demon turned both screens on. A notification flashed between the two of them to show you they had connected.

“Yay,” You feigned joy. Say whatever you have to say to get him out of here.

The second he leaves this is gone. No fucking way were you giving him the ability to track you so easily. The voice in the back of your head was screaming danger! danger! danger!

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you, babe,” The demon pinched your cheek, rather hard actually. “Oh, would you look at the time!” Vox checked his phone. “I’m afraid I have somewhere to be but,” He smiled at you, winking. “I’ll see you soon, babe.”

Hopefully not too soon… Actually, hopefully never.

“Okay.” Was all you could say. Go home. Go home. Go home!

“Text me!” He laughed as he headed for the doors. “Your majesty,” the demon bowed before disappearing.

That was weird. He wasn’t mad you went AWOL for two weeks? He didn’t even ask for an explanation!? Wait, did he think the two of you were dating!? No. No. No! Uh, no! You are not dating Vox! Hell - to the fuck - no!

What in the fuck did Charlie tell him!? Was ghosting this guy not enough to send a message? Did the Princess say something to get his hopes up? Did he assume everything was good between the two of you, that you wanted this!?

As soon as the door shut you turned to Charlie, who was now hiding behind Vaggie. Irritation bubbled beneath your skin as the Princess smiled sheepishly at you. The flowers catching fire made everyone jump back. You didn’t care anymore. Who the fuck cares anymore!?

“What did you do?”

____________________________________________

Vox dials his phone as he nonchalantly heads down the street.

“Is everything in place?” The media demon asks.

“Yes, boss. The bitch won’t know what hit her.” A male voice answers.

Vox chuckles, his one eye turning red, “Good. Good. Let the massacre begin.”

____________________________________________

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! 

Cellphones across the room chimed out in chorus, including your’s and your watch.

The spider demon looked at his phone, pure panic forming on his face.

“Angel, what’s wrong?” Your heart sank. 

“Oh, toots. You’re gonna wanna see this.” He turned the pink phone towards you to reveal an alert. 

Velvette posted a video on her Sinstagram and Vox sent a notification out for everyone to see it. 

Angel pressed play. 

Velvette’s cackle was iconic, as she picked up the phone. The front facing camera was on, so you couldn’t see her face, just the floor of V Tower now newly constructed. Her skipping stopped before the camera turned back around to her. 

“Hello, Pentagram City!” She sang. “It’s Velvette here coming to you from the top of the newly restored V Tower, and I have a little friend here who wants to say hello to everyone!” She turns the camera back around, and the sight nearly knocks you off your feet.

It was Alastor, bloodied and bruised, tied to a metal chair.

This was impossible. Alastor couldn’t be captured on any recording devices or cameras. Which meant Velvette and Vox had weakened him a great deal. Where the fuck was Rolf? Why hadn’t he come and found you!? 

“Say hello, Radio Demon.” Velvette cackled, but Alastor didn’t move. Alastor didn’t move!

Alastor was significantly more powerful than this. How in the Hell did they capture him!? 

The camera turned back around to Velvette. “Your boy toy is waiting for you, Shadow. Come and get 'em!” 

The video ended. 

And you screamed. 

Tears streamed down your face as you began to shake. Angel grabbed you, ensuring you wouldn’t fall to the floor.

“Holy shit,” Husk breathed. 

Rosie told you there were bystanders. She told you people saw. Alastor must have missed one or something or… or… Then that means… 

“She… she… she…” you couldn’t form words. “She figured out Alastor was the one who saved me after I killed Valentino.” Your voice broke as you collapsed into the spider demon in a heap of sobs. “I have to go.”

“No way, Hair clip.” Angel protested. “It’s clearly a trap.” 

“They’re going to kill him, Angel!” You practically screamed as your entire body shook, anxiety bubbled in your chest, your power surging as it fed off your anxious energy. 

“I know, toots. I know.” 

“She knows I’m an Angel.” You looked at the two of them, desperately scanning their faces for answers.

“It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.” You grabbed at your hair, the blue flames threatening to break through. “If I hadn’t killed Valentino, Alastor wouldn’t have needed to save me. But I had to because Valentino almost killed you because I killed Travis.” Green static ran across your arms. 

Angel jumped back, some of the electricity zapping him. 

“If I hadn’t become the Shadow, I wouldn’t have killed Travis, and the Vees wouldn’t have gone after Alastor.”

____________(Trigger warning)_______________

You fell to your knees the entire world spinning out of control. You felt it then, that well of power deep within you that you’ve been keeping contained for the past six years. It threatened to break through, begged to break through. You were hyperventilating now, desperately trying to push that well of power down as your panic only seemed to build. 

This was your fault. Alastor was going to die because of you. If you hadn’t been so distracted, you could have seen this coming. You did nothing about the Crim situation after learning about it and did nothing to stop Velvette from buying weapons from Carmilla Carmine. You didn’t monitor the Vees after you killed Valentino to see if they were planning any attacks of revenge. 

You did nothing! You are useless! You have always been useless! Why didn’t you try harder? Why didn’t you see these things coming? You’re worthless! A pathetic excuse for a soldier! You are a disappointment to your name! A disappointment to your father! All the years of effort, all the years of training for nothing!  

Why are you still even here!? Why are you still even trying!? You’re a failure. A miserable failure in everything that you do! And now someone you care about was going to die because of you. Because you are weak! 

“No, stop it!” You screamed, clamping your hands down over your eyes. 

Stop? Stop!? You wouldn’t have to stop anything if you had just listened! Tried harder! Actually succeeded! 

A tornado of blues and greens exploded from you, plunging your world into a sea of colors. The magic spun around you, whipping your hair about your face and blocking your view of the room. 

Alastor’s dead because of you. You can’t take that back. 

It’s your fault. 

It’s Your fAulT. 

It’S yOuR FaULt. 

IT’S YOUR FAULT. 

Somewhere, a high-pitched voice screamed. Or was it you screaming? It was hard to tell. The voices in your head had become too loud to hear anything else.

“I’m sorry!” You yelled back, tears streaming down your face. “I’m so sorry! Please make it stop!”

Stop? stoP? StOp? STop? STOP? 

“Please, Dad, stop!” You screamed. 

You could hear his laugh clear as day as the voices inside your head merged into one, “Stop?”

You curled into a ball, squeezing your eyes shut so you didn’t have to look at him. 

“You’re such a disappointment, do you know that?” His voice echoed around you, swirling with the winds and colors engulfing your small form.

“Dad, I’m sorry,” you sob. “Please!” A throb in your chest. That well of power was still there, still trying to take advantage and breakthrough. 

“You’re pathetic. Lying there, groveling like an insolent child. No one will ever love you, you know. No one will ever care.”

Throb, push, pull. The power was trying to undo the knots, trying to take advantage to slip out. 

“It was a mistake to create you.” 

“I was a mistake,” you repeated. 

“No!” A voice screamed, cutting through the wind and the voices. “You are not a mistake!” 

Charlie? 

“You are not a mistake, Thestral!” You opened your eyes to find Charlie fighting against the hurricane of colors. The Princess was pushing against the wind; her hair had escaped her braid. One hand held in front of her, the other reaching out for you, she slowly trudged her way forward. 

“You are wrong!” She screamed. “You are not a mistake, and you are loved! We love you, Thestral!” 

What?

“Me, Husk, Angel, Nifty, Pentious, even Vaggie. We love you!” The Princess fell to her knees before you. “We are your family now, Thestral, and we love you.” Her hands found yours. “And we will always be here for you, no matter what!” 

You sat up a bit to meet the Princess’ eyeline. She smiled softly at you despite the chaos around. “You are not a mistake. You are loved.” She leaned in, emphasizing every word. “It. Is. Not. Your. Fault.” 

IT’S YOUR FAULT. 

It’S yOuR FaULt. 

It’s Your fAulT. 

It’s your fault. 

It’s not your fault. 

“It’s not my fault,” you repeated. 

The winds began to die down around you, the colors fading away, the voices silencing. 

Until it was just you and Charlie lying on the Hotel floor. 

“It’s not your fault,” she repeated before bringing you into a hug. You hugged her back, her warmth, her touch, her weight, a calming presence around you. 

“Thank you,” you breathed into her hair.

____________________________________________

(Pick up here if you skipped the earlier section)

____________________________________________

“Uhhhh,” Angel peered his head up from behind the couch. “Can someone please explain to me how I’m not dead?” 

You continued to breathe as Charlie held you on the floor. She did her best to fix your hair as you spoke. “Oh, my God, I’m so…”

“Don’t,” Charlie stopped you. With a hand on either cheek, she forced you to look at her. “Don’t apologize.” You had never seen her so serious. “You’re scared. We all are.” 

You nod. 

“Is everyone okay?” She asked the room.

Everyone checked in. Including Lucifer. 

“Yup! All the magical colors just make me want to throw up a bit!” The King gagged. 

Ew.

“Okay, team. What’s the plan?” Charlie stood, radiating determination. 

“Uhm, pardon me?” Angel threw himself over the couch. 

“The plan to get Alastor back.” 

“What?” Vaggie grabbed Charlie by the jacket, making as if to shake some sense into her. “You are not going up against Vox and Velvette. No way!” 

“Vaggie,” the Princess protested. “Alastor is in trouble. We have to get him back.” 

We?

“Uhm, excuse me, ‘we’?” Lucifer blinked. 

“Yes,” Charlie stood tall. “We. None of us would be here if it weren’t for him. We wouldn’t have this Hotel without him. He’s defended it more times than you can count.” 

“I don’t owe the prick anything.” Lucifer stepped in. 

“Dad,” Charlie approached him warily. “Well… How do I put this lightly… After Mom left, you kind of did too.” 

“You completely abandoned her,” Vaggie muttered. 

Lucifer looked away, his arms crossed. 

“What Vaggie means to say is, Alastor was there for me when you weren’t. He’s helped take care of me - in a very demonic way - but he did what he did because he cares about me and this Hotel. If the situation was reversed and I asked him, he would help.” Charlie’s smile turned down to a fine line. “I’m asking, as your daughter. Please, help us.” She reached a hand out for him. 

Lucifer eventually melted, taking her hand in his. He nodded, before Charlie whipped back around to face you. “Okay! What do you need from us?” 

You dried your eyes. “Us?” You repeated, meeting the faces of everyone around you. 

They all looked… determined. Well, except for Nifty, she looked bloodthirsty and downright demonic. 

They were going to fight with you.

A feeling sparked in your chest, one which was new to you but second nature to Human Sinners: pride.

Mere months ago you came to this hotel with a plan to befriend the Princess and her crew. You needed to weasel your way into her world, earn their sympathy, gain their devotion. It was a ploy of manipulation. You weren’t here to make friends. You were here for power and chaos, nothing more.

That was the plan, right?

Yet, somewhere along the way, they found a way into your world, had earned your sympathy, gained your devotion. Rosie once told you that you never let anyone in and those that found a way past your wall terrified you. Here, now, surrounded by those you genuinely considered friends, you weren’t afraid…

You felt powerful.

You smiled softly, trying to corral the overwhelming swell of emotion within you. You summoned magic in your other hand, the green static jumping across your skin: Alastor’s magic. You could feel him, feel his breath, his heart beating at the other end of the connection as real and as strong as your own.

No more running.

You tried to push a little bit of your magic through the connection, as if to say “Hold on, Alastor. We’re coming.”

You turned to the group. “Before we get started, there are some things you need to know…”

Last short transition chapter before stuff get’s good!

*The competition for the most eligible bachelor in Hell actually happened on Twitter, but I'm pretty sure it was "hottest in Hell" or something like that. It involved legit bribery and scandals, but in the end, Vox won - because, of course, he did.

-> Chapter Twelve

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[pretzel-box]

PART 4 | MASTERLIST HERE

Tags: Mentions of violence, Injuries, Cruel Behaviour in general. It's dark content. Painter included. Slow burn starting now!

Trigger warnings: Force Feeding, Isolation, different types of Abuse

Words: 5,4k

Authors Note: First, this will be one of the last extremly violent chapters of AASB, going to announce more in the next chapter. For all people who wanna stop the series: The first part will be skip able in future. The series officially starts it's main plot now.

Also everything here is pure fiction. I do not support behaviour shown in this fiction or similar things.

You lay on the cold, unforgiving ground, surrendering to the soft glow of Sebastian’s lure. The shadows that had clung to you like a second skin began to peel away, retreating in the face of that delicate light. You let yourself sink into its gentleness, a stark contrast to the harsh brutality you knew all too well. The light kissed your skin with a softness that mocked the cruelty of his nature, and you almost allowed yourself to forget, for just a moment, the monster standing before you. A faint ringing filled your ears, like distant bells swaying in the wind—haunting, persistent, pulling you deeper into the quiet of your own mind.

Sebastian had hurled you to the ground with newfound force, his face twisted into a mask of disgust and seething anger. The tenderness that once lived in his eyes was gone, replaced by the stark void of his hatred. It was in that moment you understood—Sebastian Solace’s hatred ran deeper than any ocean, plunging into unfathomable depths where light couldn’t reach.

Trusting him had been your mistake, one that now felt like a betrayal to yourself. You had dug your own grave the moment you allowed yourself to believe in him, each passing day another shovel of dirt thrown into the hole you were carving. You could feel it now, the weight of your naivety, pressing down on you like the earth you had prepared for your unmarked tomb. How you loathed yourself—each breath you took was heavy with self-hatred, each beat of your heart a reminder of your foolishness. You were a creature cursed, revolting even to yourself.

The world watched with cruel amusement as you wept silently in your mind, never daring to shed a tear in front of him. You knew better—Sebastian would feast on your weakness, your tears nothing more than a victory to him, a reminder of how thoroughly he had broken you.

“Let’s return,” he commanded, his voice cutting through the stillness like a jagged blade. Before you could even process his words, he was hauling you off the ground, two of his arms wrapping around your torso with a bruised force that could be fatal if he wished it to be. He slung you over his shoulder with brutal efficiency, the suddenness of it stealing the breath from your lungs. His shoulder dug into your stomach, the pressure sending waves of pain radiating through your abdomen, but you swallowed the whimper threatening to escape. You knew better than to complain.

Each of his steps sent jolts through your body, the world swaying violently with his movements. It reminded you of the ride in the submarine, the same sickening lurch of your stomach as the vessel dove deeper into the abyss. But this was worse—there was no escaping the pain, no reprieve from the way his shoulder pressed cruelly into your stomach, no chance to catch your breath. You bit down hard on the inside of your cheek, drawing blood as you forced yourself to remain silent, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of hearing you in pain.

The cold night air stung your skin like tiny needles, mingling with the heat of your bruises. You could feel Sebastian’s anger simmering just beneath the surface, a volatile force that could erupt at any moment. His grip on you was firm, almost punishing, as if he was holding back the urge to let his rage fully take over. His claws scraped against your skin, digging into the fabric of your diving suit as if he wanted to tear you apart right there and then. Each movement he did was heavy, deliberate, like he was slithering off the edge of the world—and taking you with him.

The silence between you was suffocating, the only sound his labored breathing, harsh and uneven like the growl of a beast barely restrained. The path ahead felt endless, shrouded in the same darkness that now consumed your mind, but you knew you had no choice but to endure. You had to let him carry you, helpless as you were, hoping that wherever his fury led, it wouldn't be darker than the void you were already in.

The air grew colder still as the familiar scent of rust and oil hit your senses, signaling your approach to his shop. When the heavy metallic door of the back room creaked open, the dim light inside cast long, warped shadows across the cluttered space. Tools and scraps of metal littered the floor, and the walls were lined with the remnants of failed projects. It was a dismal sanctuary, a reflection of the twisted mind that now held you captive. The memories of the strange camaraderie you once shared seemed distant now, almost transparent, like fleeting dreams dissolving in the harsh light of reality.

Your stomach churned as you took it all in, the fluttering hope you once felt now turned to heavy stones, weighing you down.

Sebastian didn't speak as he carried you inside, his grip still unyielding. He finally dropped you unceremoniously onto the cold concrete floor, and your legs wobbled, barely holding you as you stumbled forward. You struggled to catch your breath, the sharp, metallic taste of blood still on your tongue.

Moving with an eerie calm, Sebastian reached for a heavy iron chain hanging from the wall. The sound of it dragging across the floor echoed ominously through the small space, sending a shiver down your spine. He knelt in front of you, his fingers rough and uncaring as he clamped the shackle around your ankle, the rusted metal biting into your flesh with a finality that made your heart sink.

The weight of the chain was oppressive, a cruel reminder of your captivity. As he stood, his towering figure cast a long shadow over you, and for a brief moment, his gaze lingered on you—dark, unreadable, devoid of the person he had once been. The silence between you was thick, charged with the unspoken tension of a thousand unshed tears, a thousand shattered dreams.

Finally, Sebastian turned away, retreating into the shadows of the hallway, his heavy movements echoing ominously in the cold space. The quiet clink of the chain as you shifted was the only sound that followed his departure, but just as you thought he had left you to the silence, his voice cut through the darkness once more—quiet, yet filled with a chilling rage that twisted your stomach into knots.

"Touch something, and I'll tear off your fingers one by one, make you chew on them." His voice, disembodied in the distance, crawled across your skin, each word heavy with venom. "Stay there. Be quiet. He will watch you, in case you're stupid enough to believe your dumb little self ever had a chance of escape. Every step you take, every breath you breathe—it will all lead to your final moment."

His threat hung in the air, thick and suffocating, the darkness of the hallway swallowing his presence, but the weight of his words lingered. Any remaining resolve you had left crumbled in that moment, your body giving way to the exhaustion and fear that had been gnawing at you from the inside. The little bit of self-control you’d been clinging to dissolved into dust, and you collapsed, sinking to the floor once more.

Your cheek met the cold, slick surface of the ground, a puddle of stagnant water pooling beneath you. The chill seeped into your skin, numbing the bruises that painted your body in shades of angry red and purple. The sharp sting from the fresh marks softened slightly as the water cooled them, offering the smallest reprieve in a moment that had become nothing but pain. Your fingers, trembling with the remnants of adrenaline and fear, lifted weakly, tugging at the chain that bound you to the spot. It rattled slightly, but the metal didn’t give—it was unyielding, unbreakable. The realization settled in like lead in your stomach: you were going nowhere.

You stared at the chain, the rusted links heavy and rough against your skin, testing its strength with a futile pull. It was clear that the chain wouldn’t move, that there would be no escape. The metal was too strong, too securely fastened to the wall, and you knew that trying to free yourself would only leave you more broken than you already were. You’d sooner tear off your own limb than remove the shackle that held you prisoner.

A deep sense of helplessness crept over you, suffocating in its intensity. The cold floor pressed against you, and the oppressive weight of the chain seemed to mirror the crushing burden of your circumstances. You were trapped—not just physically, but mentally and emotionally, ensnared by Sebastian's cruelty, by the darkness that had taken root in him, and by the twisted, nightmarish reality that had consumed you both.

The sound of your shallow breaths filled the silence, the quiet clinking of the chain a constant reminder of your newfound situation. You could feel your heart beating heavily in your chest, each thud like a drumbeat of dread, echoing through the stillness of the shop. There was no one to hear your cries, no one to offer you comfort or solace. You were utterly alone.

In the distance, something shifted—a light flickering just barely out of sight, alarming you from the shadows and as Sebastian had promised you, you felt something or someone gaze at you. You didn’t need to see it to know it was there, his presence a dark, looming threat that kept you rooted in place. Every movement you made, every breath you took, was being monitored, controlled. There was no room for defiance, no space for hope. You were at the mercy of a person whose cruelty knew no bounds.

As the hours stretched on, the cold seeped deeper into your bones, and exhaustion began to take its toll. Your body felt heavy, weighed down by the chain, the bruises, the fear. But even as your eyelids fluttered, too tired to stay open, your mind remained restless, unable to escape the nightmare that had become your reality. You didn’t know what would come next, but the dread that gnawed at you made it clear—it wouldn’t be anything good.

“My, my. What a sight. You must be exhausted, hm? I’m sorry to see that. Actually, I’m not. But manners, am I right?”

The voice was smooth yet dripping with sarcasm, echoing around the room. Your eyes darted to the corners, searching for the source, but the space was empty, save for you and the suffocating darkness. At first, you thought it was just the weight of your own thoughts manifesting into cruel whispers. But this was different—clearer, sharper, too vivid to be a mere figment of your mind.

“Sebastian spoke about you. Well, I saw you two around, and I must admit,” the voice continued, a cruel edge slicing through its tone, “it made me digitally gag to see you being all lovey with him. What did you expect?”

Your body trembled, whether from the cold, the pain, or the creeping terror, you couldn’t tell. The voice was relentless, mocking you with each passing second. Was it your own mind finally breaking under the pressure? Had you gone completely mad, hallucinating voices that only added to your torment?

“Oh, Sebby~ Marry me! Kiss me! I love you, my wonderful strong man,” the voice sang mockingly, its tone twisted into a grotesque parody of your affection for Sebastian. It was like it was pulling memories from your deepest insecurities, twisting them into something vile, something repulsive.

The nausea rose in your throat as the voice continued, its words a dagger to your pride, to your self-worth. “You, yeah you, little maggot. You’re nothing more than a small, filthy animal. A distraction to him.”

Your heart sank deeper, your mind unable to grasp the weight of it all. The words were harsh, brutal, hitting like blows you couldn’t defend against. The worst part? A piece of you believed it. You always had, in the darkest corners of your mind.

“I.”

“Can’t.”

“Allow.”

“THAT.”

The final word was like a trigger. In an instant, the warm yellow lights flickered before plunging the room into darkness. Seconds later, an eerie red glow filled the space, the emergency lights kicking in. They cast twisted shadows on the walls, making the room feel even smaller, more oppressive. The faint hum of the machinery faded into silence, replaced by the steady drip of water and the pounding of your own heartbeat.

Your breath hitched, fear tightening its grip around your chest as the voice carried on, undeterred by the change in atmosphere. “You were a distraction from the very moment you set foot on this ground. What did you expect? A warm welcome?” It laughed, a sound so devoid of warmth it sent a shiver down your spine. “Oh, you. You are so dead that it warms my digital heart.”

There was a brief pause, almost as if the voice was savoring the tension, the fear it had created. The red light bathed the room in a hellish glow, and the wet floor beneath you felt even colder, seeping through your clothes and chilling you to the bone.

“Sebastian loathes you so much,” the voice purred, each word like venom slipping into your veins. “Keep being like that, and he will gut you with his claws, hang you outside his shop as a snack for our little wall-dwelling friends.”

The imagery hit you like a punch to the gut. Your mind conjured images of yourself hanging lifelessly from some rusted hook, your body torn apart, Sebastian’s eyes cold and indifferent as he offered you up like some worthless sacrifice. The thought left you gasping for air, your chest tight with panic.

The voice circled around you like a predator, never showing itself, only speaking in cruel, tormenting tones. Every word chipped away at your already fragile state, leaving you teetering on the edge of despair. You had been pushed so far, and this—whatever this was—felt like the final push over the precipice.

“Face it,” the voice hissed, dripping with malice. “You were never important. Not to him, not to anyone. And soon, you’ll be nothing more than a forgotten memory, rotting in the dark.”

The red light flickered again, casting the room into momentary darkness before returning to its ominous glow. You could hear your own shaky breaths, the sound of the chain clinking as you tried, once more, to pull yourself up. But you couldn’t. You were too weak, too broken.

The voice fell silent for a moment, as if satisfied with the damage it had done. But you knew it wasn’t finished. It was waiting, watching, savoring the fear coursing through your veins like a twisted game.

In the silence that followed, all you could do was lie there, helpless and trembling, waiting for whatever nightmare would come next.

The door slammed open a while later with a deafening crash, sending a tremor through the cold, darkened room. You jolted at the sound, instinctively curling in on yourself as best you could with the chain still clamped around your ankle. Sebastian had returned.

His silhouette filled the doorway, towering and menacing. His once familiar frame, the one that used to offer you comfort, was now nothing but a looming shadow of cruelty. He trudged into the room, his arms laden with rusted metal scraps, chains, and jagged pieces of equipment, the weight of it all clattering to the floor in a heap.

You stared at the pile, heart pounding. The heavy scent of oil and rust filled the air, almost suffocating, mixing with the stale dampness that lingered from the puddle beneath you. Sebastian’s face was devoid of any expression, but his eyes—they were cold, dead, like pits of endless darkness.

He turned toward you, his gaze settling on your trembling form. There was no affection left, no trace of the man you once trusted. Without a word, he bent down to rummage through the scraps he’d brought, pulling out a tangle of wires and a metal pipe, testing their strength in his hands.

You watched him, fear spreading like ice in your veins. You tried to speak, to plead with him, but the words lodged in your throat, blocked by the growing terror. He noticed your gaze, his lips curling into a humorless smirk.

“Still think I’m gonna play nice?” he muttered, his voice thick with disdain. He tossed the pipe aside, slithering toward you with measured, deliberate strides.

Your stomach churned as he bent down before you, his large frame casting a shadow over your already shivering body while the red emergency lights framed his body from behind. He grabbed a metal bowl from beside the pile, filled with a strange mush that looked more like something scraped off a filthy factory floor than actual food.

“Eat.” His voice was cold, commanding.

You shook your head instinctively, repulsed by the sight of the disgusting slop. But Sebastian wasn’t having it. In a swift, brutal motion, he grabbed your jaw, forcing it open with a strong and painful grip. His other hand shoved the bowl towards your mouth, spilling the foul-smelling substance down your throat.

You gagged violently, choking on the taste as you tried to turn your head away in a pitiful attempt. But his grip was iron, unyielding like the chain around your ankle. Another set of fresh tears blurred your vision as the sensation of the slimy food rejecting it with every swallow. Still, Sebastian forced more into your mouth, his hand relentless.

“You don't get to decide what to eat or when you eat.” He cursed, it was clear that his little attitude pissed him off dearly.

Sebastian’s eyes flicked upward, narrowing as the faintest sound echoed through the room—a soft, metallic scrape, like something sliding across the vents above. His expression darkened, and he moved swiftly, grabbing a rag from the nearest table. Without hesitation, he turned back to you, eyes blazing with irritation.

“You stay quiet. Understand?” he hissed, his voice low and threatening.

You barely had time to react before he roughly jammed the rag into your mouth, gagging you with a sudden, forceful shove. The musty fabric pressed against your tongue, cutting off any chance of speech, and you choked slightly, tears springing to your eyes as the gag tightened painfully around your jaw. Sebastian didn’t care. He secured it tightly, making sure there was no way for you to spit it out.

The scraping sound grew louder, the unmistakable noise of someone crawling through the ventilation system. Sebastian’s head snapped in the direction of the noise, his lips curling into a sneer.

“An expendable,” he muttered to himself, as if the very thought disgusted him.

Without another word, Sebastian grabbed you by the arm, dragging you across the room with ease. You stumbled, legs shaking beneath you, as he roughly shoved you behind a stack of debris and rusted crates. The hard metal edges scraped against your skin as you were wedged into a narrow space, hidden completely from view.

His hand lingered on your shoulder for a brief moment, his grip tight and bruising. He leaned down close to your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

“Not a sound,” he whispered, his voice cold and final. “If they find you, I’ll make sure they never leave this place alive—and you’ll wish you never left that damn floor.”

With that, he turned sharply, moving away from your hiding spot with a calm, deliberate stride. You could hear the soft clink of tools being moved as he pretended to busy himself with the clutter on his files and items, acting as though nothing unusual was happening at all.

Your heart raced in your chest, the gag muffling your shallow breaths as you crouched behind the debris, every muscle in your body tense with fear. The faint echo of movement in the vents grew louder, closer, and then—finally—a metal grate fell to the ground with a dull thud.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could just make out the figure dropping down from the vent. The expendable customer, covered in grime and sweat from their journey, straightened up, looking around the shop with wide eyes. They appeared nervous, their gaze darting around the room as though expecting something—or someone—to jump out at them.

Sebastian didn’t look up at first, continuing to tinker with some random tool on his table. The tension in the air was palpable, and you could feel the weight of it pressing down on you as you remained frozen in your hiding spot.

“Uh... h-hey,” the expendable stammered, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. “I was... I was sent for a quick purchase. Heard you’ve got some code breachers for me.”

Sebastian finally turned, his expression cool and detached. He wiped his hands on a rag, tossing it aside before speaking.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion. “I don’t have any. Also you're late. I was about to close.”

The expendable gulped, looking even more anxious than before. “Sorry! It’s just... the vents, y’know? Not exactly the easiest way to get around. I didn’t mean to—”

“Spare me the excuses,” Sebastian cut in sharply, stepping closer to the newcomer. “You want code breachers? No. And next time you make me wait, I won’t be so generous and keep it at no but show you what it means to disturb me.”

You couldn’t see Sebastian’s face from where you were hidden, but you could feel the cold menace in his tone. The expendable, clearly intimidated, nodded quickly, fumbling with their pack as they prepared to make the exchange.

Your pulse quickened, every nerve in your body screaming for you to stay still, to remain silent. From your cramped hiding spot, you could hear the faint rustle of the transaction taking place, but your mind was too fogged with panic to process it. The metallic taste of the gag filled your mouth, making you feel sick as you struggled to keep your breathing steady.

A few minutes passed, though they felt like hours, and finally, the expendable mumbled a hurried thanks before turning to leave. You heard the clatter of boots as they climbed back into the vent, the grate rattling shut behind them.

Sebastian waited until the sound of their movements faded completely before he moved again. He approached your hiding spot, his tail scapes against the floor slow and deliberate as he crouched down in front of you, his eyes cold and unfeeling.

Without a word, he reached for the gag, yanking it roughly from your mouth. The sudden freedom made you gasp for air, your lips sore and bruised from the pressure of the cloth. But before you could say anything, his hand shot out, grabbing you by the chin and forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Remember,” he growled, his voice low and menacing. “You’re nothing here. And if you think for a second that anyone’s coming to save you, you’re dead wrong.”

With that, he released your chin.

You swallowed hard, the metallic taste of the gag still lingering on your tongue as your mind raced with desperation. Every bruise on your body throbbed, a constant reminder of your helplessness, your complete powerlessness. But something inside you, some flicker of survival, pushed you to speak. Maybe there was a way out. Maybe if you could make yourself useful and get him items, Sebastian wouldn’t see you as just another burden, another thing to be crushed beneath his heel.

You forced yourself to your feet, even though your legs trembled beneath you, and moved from your hiding spot. Sebastian hadn’t gone far. He stood a few feet away, tinkering with the pile of scrap he had gathered earlier, his back turned to you. The soft clinks of metal scraping together echoed in the dim shop, blending with the faint hum of the remaining lights overhead.

You could feel the tension in the air, thick and heavy, but you had to push past it. There was no other choice.

“Sebastian,” you rasped, your voice weak but determined. He didn’t respond immediately, his hands continuing to work on whatever twisted piece of metal lay in front of him. You swallowed again, throat dry, and forced yourself to take a step closer. “Let me help.”

At that, he froze, his hands hovering over the tools. Slowly, he straightened, turning his head just enough to glance at you from the corner of his eye. The silence stretched unbearably, and for a moment, you wondered if you had made a mistake. If he was about to lash out, to hurt you more than you could handle. But you pressed on, your desperation outweighing your fear.

“I... I know I’m nothing to you,” you continued, voice trembling. “But I can be useful. I can help you. Whatever you’re planning—whatever you need to do—I’ll do it. I’ll be your tool, your... your instrument. Just don’t throw me away.”

His head turned fully now, eyes narrowing as he studied you. His expression was unreadable, cold and calculating as he took in your words, your trembling form. You felt the weight of his gaze settle on you like a suffocating blanket, but you didn’t back down. You couldn’t. This was your only chance.

“I know I’m weak,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But you can use that, can’t you? No one would expect me. No one would see me coming. I can do things for you that no one else can. I’ll be loyal. I’ll follow your orders without question. I swear.”

Sebastian’s lips curled slightly, but it wasn’t a smile. It was something darker, something twisted. He took a step closer, and instinctively, you flinched, but you stood your ground, heart pounding in your chest.

“And why,” he said slowly, voice low and dangerous, “would I trust someone like you? A tool is only as valuable as its reliability. And you?” He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your face. “You’ve proven to be nothing but a nuisance.”

You clenched your fists, your nails biting into your palms as you forced yourself to meet his gaze, your eyes burning with unshed tears. “Because I have nothing left,” you whispered. “I’ve already lost everything. You... you’re the only thing I have now. If I can be of use to you, then that’s all that matters. I’ll be whatever you need me to be.” You played the submissive victim, trying to fool him once again.

For a moment, the room was silent. Sebastian’s eyes bored into yours, searching, testing. Then, slowly, he straightened, his expression darkening.

“So, you want to be useful, do you?” he said, his tone mocking. “You want to be my tool? My little puppet?”

You nodded, heart hammering in your chest. “Yes.”

He smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His hand shot out, grabbing you by the jaw with bruising force. His fingers dug into your skin, and you winced, but you didn’t pull away. You couldn’t.

“You’ll regret those words,” he murmured, his voice a cold whisper against your ear. “Because once you’re mine, there’s no going back. I will use you. I will break you. And when I’m done, there will be nothing left of who you were. Nothing.”

You shuddered, but you nodded again, the words catching in your throat. “I understand,” you croaked.

Sebastian released you, pushing you back slightly as he took a step away, his eyes gleaming with something dark, something dangerous.

“Fine,” he said, his voice laced with cruel amusement. “Let’s see how useful you can be.”

He turned back to the pile of scrap, gesturing to the tools scattered around. “Start by cleaning this mess up. And don’t think about running. Because if you do... I’ll make sure you regret ever thinking you could outsmart me.”

You dropped to your knees immediately, grabbing the tools with trembling hands.

You hesitated for a long moment, the memory of that mocking voice still fresh in your mind. It had been gnawing at you ever since the encounter, the cruel taunts echoing in your head like a relentless reminder of your growing desperation. Now, with Sebastian looming over you as you fumbled with the tools he had tossed your way, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You had to tell him.

“Sebastian,” you started, your voice shaky as you glanced up at him from where you knelt on the ground. He didn’t respond right away, still focused on the piece of scrap he was fiddling with, his brows furrowed in concentration. But you pressed on, your voice growing steadier as you spoke. “There’s… there’s something I need to tell you. Earlier, when you left me alone in here… I heard something.”

His movements slowed slightly, though he didn’t turn to look at you. “What did you hear?” he muttered, his tone indifferent, as if he was expecting some trivial complaint. You swallowed nervously, fingers gripping the wrench in your hand a little tighter.

“It was a voice,” you said quietly. “A man’s voice. He… he was talking to me. Mocking me.”

That got his attention. Sebastian stopped entirely now, his eyes snapping up to meet yours, a scowl forming on his face. “What the hell are you talking about?” he growled. “You were alone.”

“I know I was,” you stammered, your heart racing as you tried to explain. “But I swear, I heard him. He said horrible things. Called me… called me a distraction. Said you’d gut me and hang me outside like some kind of… of warning.”

Sebastian’s scowl deepened, and for a second, you thought he was going to lash out, accuse you of lying or going mad. But instead, he let out an irritated sigh, rubbing a hand over his face as if this was the last thing he wanted to deal with.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head in frustration. “Of course, he would do that.”

“He?” you echoed, confused. “So… I’m not crazy? There really was someone talking to me?”

Sebastian shot you a withering glare, his annoyance clear. “It wasn’t just someone. It was someone I work with. A temporary helper.”

“A helper?” you repeated, still not quite following.

He tossed the scrap metal aside with a loud clatter and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring down at you as if this whole situation was your fault. “Yeah, a helper. Painter, to be specific. He’s a glorified AI that Urbanshape trapped and a while back I asked him to help me with surveillance and data tracking. His main purpose is keeping an eye on things and handling some of the tech around here. Also, keeping the crystal secure from those filthy human idiots.”

Your mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. “So… Painter’s an AI? But why would he talk to me like that? Why would he mock me?”

Sebastian scoffed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Because he’s an insufferable bastard if he wants to be,” he growled. “I gave him too much freedom for personality when I struck a deal with him. Thought it’d make him more efficient, but all it did was make him a smug little prick. He likes to mess with people. Especially weak ones.”

You flinched at the jab, but you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of relief. At least now you knew you weren’t losing your mind. The voice had been real, even if it was just some sadistic AI.

“He watches everything,” Sebastian continued, his voice gruff as he turned back to his work. “If he saw you stumbling around like an idiot, he probably decided to have a little fun at your expense. Don’t take it personally. He’s just doing what he wants to do.”

You nodded slowly, processing the information. “So… is he always watching? Even now?”

“Most likely,” Sebastian muttered, not looking at you. “He’s everywhere where I want him to be. The shop, the vents, the cameras. He sees everything, and he loves to play god when he can and when I allow him.”

You shuddered at the thought, the idea of being constantly watched by some twisted AI unsettling. But you swallowed down the discomfort, not wanting to show any more weakness in front of Sebastian. You’d already been humiliated enough.

“Just ignore him,” Sebastian added, his tone dismissive. “The more you react, the more he’ll push.”

“But, Painer will always be on my leash.”

[highseas-swede]

Aziraphale and Trauma

[Just a note that I initially wrote this in response to this post: https://www.tumblr.com/theangelyouknew/732357015604756480?source=share&ref=_tumblr which is full of insightful info. I'm reposting my response here with some minor edits so it's easier to find in tags.]

This is something I actually find interesting within the fandom, because there seems to be this weird divide in fandom when it comes to Aziraphale.

See, I love Aziraphale. I think he's an amazing and well nuanced character, but a lot of the time fandom boils him down into this really simple version of himself. This happens both with people who dislike him and claim he's a bad person as well as with those who want to soften him up and make him more palatable. Aziraphale isn't the only one who has trouble with black and white thinking here!

Things like Coffee Theory remove Aziraphale's agency because the thought of Aziraphale doing something to hurt Crowley deliberately is something they can't stomach. If Aziraphale is acting under some kind of major magical influence, it means that it's possible to brush over the fact that he can - and has - hurt Crowley in the past and it certainly hasn't always been accidental.

There's a lot of Psychology I could touch on here, but it's honestly such a complicated topic that I don't really feel I can do it justice attached to a completely different topic.

But one thing I do want to touch on a bit is how Aziraphale asserts control in his own life via his connection with Crowley, and that touches on something equally complicated, which is something that's probably hard to understand.

Abuse victims are often manipulative.

I don't mean this at all as some kind of slight or insult. I've been an abuse victim myself and it's one reason I know it's true.

Fandom talks a lot about Crowley's trauma and he's got loads, to be sure. I think of that meme about "this bad boy can fit a lot of trauma" and it's very true. I've even seen people mention that Aziraphale has a different kind of Trauma than Crowley, which is also true.

What I haven't seen is someone addressing that the type of religious trauma is a form of CPTSD. CPTSD or "Complex PTSD" is a very specific form of PTSD. PTSD is characterized as being the result of a traumatic event - Crowley's fall, for example, is a good example of PTSD and I can go into that at some point. CPTSD is different because it's not a singular event, it's the result of being in a constant high stress situation. A lot of abuse victims - especially those abused by parental figures or significant others - have this form of PTSD.

A good way to see the difference is in comparing how they relate to their trauma. When Crowley thinks he's lost Aziraphale in S1, it sends him into a spiral. But importantly we see that this traumatic event is causing Crowley to go back to another traumatic event in time, triggering his memories of his fall. This emphasizes how much Crowley's fall defines his trauma. We rarely see him experiencing trauma at the hands of Hell, as he's mostly allowed freedom to handle his job on earth the way he wants.

https://cptsdfoundation.org/ defines CPTSD as "the results of ongoing, inescapable, relational trauma. Unlike Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Complex PTSD typically involves being hurt by another person. These hurts are ongoing, repeated, and often involving a betrayal and loss of safety."

In humans, this is caused by having no sense of safety in key moments of development. It strips away sense of self, sense of worth and really any agency. We even see the angels using direct gaslighting tactics on Aziraphale in S2, which I'm surprised doesn't get mentioned more often: When they come to the bookshop looking for Gabriel, they mention Gabriel and then almost immediately when Aziraphale asks "you were looking for Gabriel", Uriel outright says a line that goes something like "Did we say we were looking for Gabriel?", leading Aziraphale to fumble and try to remember if they did, in fact, say that at some point (they did).

So, one big thing to know about CPTSD and this kind of abuse related trauma is that learning to lie and be manipulative is often what people have to do to survive. Children with abusive parents will learn how to be manipulative in order to get what they need or avoid losing things they need.

We see this with Aziraphale, time and time again. He could just ASK Crowley for things he wants. A lot of people point out that he could ask and that Crowley would probably give in to him most of the time anyway. But that's not how it works in an abusive home. Instead, Aziraphale maneuvers Crowley into situations where Crowley is forced to give him what he needs or wants.

His lack of agency, as a result of his CPTSD, is also why he needs to be worked into making decisions that he already knows - or at least suspects - are right. That's why they have their little dance every time Crowley has to talk Aziraphale into something by finding the right way to frame it so it makes sense with Aziraphale's strict rule structure. These rules exist as a defensive mechanism too. Having rules makes it easier to figure out how to avoid being hurt and Aziraphale cannot simply step outside the rules because it's Not Safe. Not even with someone he trusts as much as Crowley.

The entire apology dance scene stands out for a few reasons. Everything Aziraphale does in the entire scene is an act that allows him to take control of the situation. He's already won, so to speak, because Crowley is back and Crowley is going to do what he wants. The apology is unnecessary on every level.

This post talks about how uncomfortable Crowley has to be sharing a space with Gabriel. Gabriel is with the abusive team, whether or not he was directly involved with Crowley's fall. Crowley also harbors a severe distress and mistrust of Gabriel because of Gabriel's attempts to destroy Aziraphale, the most important person to Crowley. But it's worth noting that Aziraphale is uncomfortable too.

Another good indicator of how stressed Aziraphale is with all this is that he doesn't eat ANYTHING when Gabriel is in the shop. The only food he consumes in modern era is when he's in the Bentley which is a "safe" space. Gabriel constantly hounded Aziraphale over eating and despite offering Gabriel hot chocolate, we don't see him partaking himself. He does briefly drink to demonstrate how "drinking tea" works for Muriel, but he doesn't seem to drink from his cup at all after demonstrating.

The bookshop is also Aziraphale's safe space, his ONLY safe space - Crowley still technically has the Bentley, and honestly I feel like Aziraphale wanting to borrow the Bentley is actually partially because he needs to get away from Gabriel and the Bentley is the only place that feels safe for him at the moment. Shax ruins any illusion of safety for him, but Aziraphale is much more enthused for his trip in ep3 and a fair amount of it is because he's not trapped with Gabriel.

A small note here, as a thought occurs to me. Aziraphale asserting that the Bentley is "our car" is probably mostly for himself. He's trying to realign his thinking to make the Bentley an acceptable "safe space" for himself prior to the trip.

There is a very different relationship dynamic when it comes to Gabriel and Aziraphale because Gabriel is the constant source of Aziraphale's trauma. He's Aziraphale's superior, the one he has to report to, the one who passes down his missions and his punishments. When Aziraphale takes Gabriel in, he's just invited his former abuser of over 6000 years into his safe haven. This is a hugely uncomfortable thing for an abuse survivor.

Worst of all, because Jim is, for all intents and purposes, NOT Gabriel, Aziraphale can't bring himself to lash out at his former abuser the way he wants to.

That brings us back to this apology scene.

There are two major things going on here and both of them are bad and hurtful toward Crowley. They're also both intensely unfair. I love Aziraphale but this was definitely a dick move.

Firstly: Aziraphale is using Crowley to reassert a sense of control over the situation because he is spiraling. He can't assert control over his life and his shop, which is one thing that he falls back on heavily, and that leaves him scrambling to find somewhere where he can control his situation. He makes Crowley go through this whole unnecessary apology and dance routine because it makes him feel like he has control over SOMETHING in his life right now.

Secondly: Aziraphale is also enacting his own trauma on Crowley. He's treating Crowley the way Heaven treats him. This is a direct parallel to the way Crowley terrorizes his house plants because he can't do anything to the people who actually caused his trauma. This is, obviously, wildly unfair of Aziraphale to do - and I'm fairly sure there are other small moments where Aziraphale does this in a mild way, I'd have to rewatch again.

These are both behaviors common in CPTSD caused by environments that apply this constant state of stress.

I'm not going to say it's right, or that Aziraphale isn't being a bit of a bastard in this moment - he absolutely is - but this behavior does have some obvious triggers that might be easy to overlook. It's just important to understand that Aziraphale is falling into self-preservation habits that are actively detrimental to his relationship with Crowley. It's not just the manipulation, he's also hiding things and lying to Crowley when he really shouldn't be - both things often necessary in abusive environments - but he's doing it because that's the method that he's created that works with his abusive relationship in Heaven and he's falling back on it because he feels unsafe. The trouble is, this survival tactic does not work with Crowley and actively makes things worse because it shuts down open communication entirely.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Helping Hand

Jungkook isn't kind, or at least he doesn't seem to be. But one look beyond the surface reveals that he's a lot warmer than one might think.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, dystopian AU, space/Sci-fi/cyberpunk-esque, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Violence, Drama, romance, adult, angst, potentially triggering content, mentions of prostitution, fluff??

Length: 2k words

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You're sitting in the command center where Jungkook is busy steering the ship and putting in coordinates, while you're busy staring out the giant rounded window, watching planets in the distance and meteorites pass by, as well as the occasional star flutter around.

Jungkook had offered you to spend time at the command central outside of your room for once- though he made sure to emphasize that 'one wrong move' and he'd put you right back in there for sure. It's a little odd, how contradictive he sometimes is- but you believe it might just be what his kind usually behaves like. You're not sure- you've never even asked which species he belongs to, down the line. He looks like he might be a Bolku, with his color changing eyes and tall build- but he's missing the distinctive pale skin and horns on his head, so you're not sure. Maybe he's of a different kind?

"Do you.." He starts, not looking up from the control panel as he looks at something on the display down at his hands, "..have any hobbies?" He asks, a little awkwardly, but you welcome the attempt at a conversation.

"No." You shake your head. He frowns a little to himself, taps around on the screen.

"No?" He wonders. "Then what did you do all day back on earth?" He wants to know, and you shrug, before looking outside again, watching a large meteorite slowly moving past the large ship.

"Sleep, if there was no work." You answer. "But sleeping a lot can make your head hurt." You giggle. He doesn't seem like he finds it funny, though, as he sighs, sitting down on the actually pretty worn down chair.

"But if there.." he begins, watching something load on the screens in front of him, a soft, gentle pinging sound signaling something in progress as the system scans the ships's surroundings, "..if there was something you could do, to pass time and.. amuse yourself I guess, what would it be?" He wonders, eyes slowly moving up without his head turning at all, greenish blue gaze watching you from his spot at the control panel.

"..I guess, maybe crocheting?" You wonder, thinking to yourself. "Yeah. I saw older people sell those.. small crochet animals on the side of the street sometimes. I think.. I'd like to know how to make them." You say. He scoffs, clearly not impressed.

"That's nothing practical at all." He says. "What about productive things?" He wonders, arms crossed as he keeps looking at you from beneath his lashes, light sometimes catching on the two silver balls from his pierced brow.

"Well I mean- I'd produce those tiny animals?" You try and joke-

and as he scoffs at that, there's the hint of a smile, his head shaking as he returns his attention to the screens in front of him, scan now complete.

You're about to ask him if he himself has any hobbies, when something similar to an alarm sounds, red Warning label pulsating on the large windows to indicate something dangerous. Jungkook is instantly alert, eyes flashing a sharp yellow before they turn red, while he assesses whatever is going on on his control screens. And then, a loud bang and whaling noise can be heard, before the ship moves suddenly, as if pushed side to side by giant waves of water. It makes you fall from the ledge near the window you were sitting on, tumbling down the floor before you hit the wall on one side, shoulder harshly crashing against the edge of a metal console.

And then, it's quiet, only a slight small pinging sound again, while the system checks for any damage.

"Fuck.." Jungkook curses, before he walks over to where you're sitting up now, ship having stabilized again. "You okay?" he wonders, squatting down near you to watch you roll your shoulder before you nod.

"Yeah- just fell. What happened?" You wonder, looking at him, and he sighs, before he picks you up like a ragdoll with his hands under your arms to stand you up again.

"Scanner's got an issue." He shrugs, arms crossed as he walks back to the control panels. "Probably nothing too bad, but we can't fly like this." He grumbles to himself, while playing with the piercings of his bottom lip, eyes an icy and stressed color of turquoise, signaling his inner emotions. "We'll have to stop at the next Ship station to get it fixed." He informs you, and you nod.

"How long until the next planet?" You wonder, now a little worried about the safety of not only you, but the entire ship with the scanner not working properly.

"Not long. Crion is pretty much only a few hours away- I can get it fixed there." He says, and you nod.

It's quiet, except for the low rumbling of the ship and some beeps here and there, before he talks again, awfully soft.

"Don't worry." He says, sitting down in the chair again. "It'll be fine."

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Crion is a pretty, but very, very crowded planet. It's a sanctuary for many different species all across the universe, and it shows in the absolute variety of languages, foods and other items sold on the streets.

"Here." Jungkook tells you, before his hands come into view from behind you, clicking the tracking collar back around your neck. "I really don't want to have to search for you just because you strayed around- so please just try and stay within my sight." He says, clearly stressed about the whole situation.

The ship has a very obvious dent in one of the sides, damage that needs to be repaired before the scanner could even be talked about. You're not quite sure why, to you the dent isn't actually that bad and just.. aesthetically maybe a bit ugly, but you don't question it. Jungkook is the pilot after all- he'll know what's best.

While Jungkook walks over to talk to a greenish humanoid with multiple arms about his ship, you stay close, just like he told you to- though you can't help but look around here and there, loud metal noises and large bird like creatures in the skies making you a little anxious. "My people already looked at damage-" The humanoid alien says, a tablet in one if his four hands, as he taps with one finger. "Scanner B3 and E2 software. Scanner A1 and A2 fluid damage. And big case damage!" He argues, making Jungkook roll his eyes.

"Yeah I already figured that out myself- can you fix it?" He asks, a greenish yellow that underlines his clear suspicion of the person in front of him.

"Fix it I can-" The man says, three eyes suddenly watching Jungkook with challenge. "You can pay?" He asks.

Jungkook grows tense. "How much?" He wonders, and the man uses one of his three fingers to tap away, quickly calculating something in a program.

"Sixteen-" The alien starts, before his eyes move back to look at Jungkook. "-hundred."

Jungkook takes a deep breath, clearly not able to just say yes to that price.

"Is there any way we can push that down?" He asks, and the alien shrugs, putting the tablet away, before he looks at you.

"You can pay with slave." The alien person offers, leaning forward a bit to sniff with his cat-shaped nose. "Very young. I like- can work for us." He begins.

"Okay-" You start without thinking, when Jungkook's head snaps towards you, eyes an angry red.

"Excuse us for a second-" He offers the man, before he grabs you by the back of your collar, pulling you to the side and out of hearing range for the man. "-have you hit your head on the ship?!" He hisses at you, frown on his face as he talks down towards you due to the height difference.

"What? No." You shake your head. "You just- need to get your ship fixed and if he wants me instead of sixteen hundred that's a great deal-"

"I'm not selling you into prostitution just to get my fucking ship fixed, you lunatic!" He growls again, breaking eye contact as he looks around, taking a deep breath. "There has to be a different planet where we can get it fixed-"

"Jungkook it's fine-" You start, but he turns around and stares at you with a gaze so unfocused in it's emotions that it almost looks like his eyes portray every color they can at once.

"No!." He says, pupils flicking from one of your eyes to the other rapidly. "… I don't care. Anything but that. There has to be a different way." He decides, and maybe from sheer shock over his outburst alone, you don't question him any further. "Come." He instead tells you, and you follow obediently, no longer really feeling like going against his word.

"Have decided?" The man says, and Jungkook crosses his arms.

"I'll pay 850 up front." He says. "The rest after you're finished." He offers, and the man laughs.

"You crazy!" He says. "900 up front."

"Okay." Jungkook agrees, before he pulls out a small, phone-like device to transfer the money to the alien mechanic.

"You really not want sell slave?" The man tries again.

"No." Jungkook denies, finishing up the transfer before he puts his device away, and grabs your hand rather roughly, pulling you away from him after making sure to turn around one last time.

"And she's not a fucking slave."

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"I can't believe this is the third time I'm asking you.." Jungkook sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What. Do. You. Want. To. Eat." He tries once more, because true to his word, he's been trying for the past hour or so to get you something to eat.

"Nothing." You say, yet again, almost a little amused by the game you're playing.

Jungkook clenches his jaw, clearly looking like he's either praying to gods above- or like he's really trying hard to contain himself.

"Jungkook you need the money to pay off the ship's repairs-" You start, but he simply tugs you by your hand again to a small, open food stall. "Jungkook-"

"Can I have something to eat for this thing?" Jungkook asks the short man grilling the battered.. fish? You're not sure what it is, but it smells pretty good.

"Hey!" You argue at his choice of words for you, and the man chuckles a little.

"Sure. That'll be five." He mumbles, and Jungkook pays before you can even argue- steaming fried pieces of.. whatever placed in a Styrofoam container that Jungkook puts into your hands.

"Eat." He demands, sitting down on a bench under a small roof with you.

You simply do as he tells you to, biting into the still steaming food, really pretty uncaring as to what it might be. It tastes sort of like fish- a little spicy, but very pleasant. He's simply sitting next to you with his back curved and his elbows resting on his knees, eyes constantly roaming around like he's some guard dog ready to defend at any given point.

He's probably still thinking about how to get the money for the repairs- and you still don't understand why he was so.. aggressively against the idea of just selling you. It almost felt like there was an emotional response to it rather than just regular sympathy for you. But it doesn't matter- because you want to help as well, considering he's been somewhat taking care of you for a little while now.

You poke his biceps before holding out your box with one piece of fish eaten, and the other just having been bitten once. "What?" He asks.

"I'm full." You say. He rolls his eyes, sighs, but takes your scraps anyways, eating them while swing your legs on the bench next to him. You're yawning, clearly tired- and he finishes your food next to you, before he leans back on the bench, and rather clumsily pushes you by your shoulder to lay over his lap, thighs surprisingly comfortably and warm. And after a moment of surprise, you finally put your legs up and use your hands to support your head a bit more-

his own resting on your shoulder, as if to make sure you know he's still there.

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[faemingi]

care for you ✧˖*°࿐

ateez! mommy!hwa x reader ᡣ𐭩

summary; a playful comment turns into something more

pairing; park seonghwa x implied afab!reader

word count; 1.2k

tags; comfort, fluff, mommy!seonghwa…

trigger warnings; implications of smut/nsfw, refers to reader as “good girl” and “princess”

notes; couldn’t shake mommy hwa from my brain. had to.

ᡣ𐭩

another day of feeling low. your bones laid heavy like lead, your body limp like jello. you had nowhere to be, nowhere to go. nothing to do. you were initially so happy to give up full time work to pursue your desire of becoming a self-employed artist. but your stock had been built up, your supplies counted and reorganized too many times, and incoming orders were slower than slow. nonexistent. it was, of course, unbelievably disheartening.

but the sun had set, and you were lying alone. the bedside lamp was dimmed giving half of the room a warm, yellow glow. you were facing the side that was dark. a t-shirt dress and cotton panties. your bare feet tucked under the blanket, the cool air against the rest of your exposed skin. you had goosebumps but you weren’t too cold, not yet cold enough to have to move your body.

you didn’t remember falling asleep, yet you were woken up from a very, very shallow nap by the other side of the bed sinking down, and you felt a warm hand snake around your torso. gentle but firm.

“are you okay?” seonghwa asked, urging you to turn towards him. but you curled up further into yourself. he rubbed your tummy through the fabric of your shirt. “baby.”

“i’m okay.” you weren’t exactly lying — you were fine. however, being ‘fine’ wasn’t enough. you wanted to be happy. you wanted to be busy. you wanted structure back in your life. and you struggled with the feeling that you had no capability to make your own decisions. “just had a bad day.”

“talk to me.” he grabbed your hip, lovingly forcing you onto your back to face him. “tell me about your day.” as you made eye contact, his glistened with worry. they examined your face, and you felt your heart soften in your chest; he loved you so much. the light shone a halo around his hair, soft ringlets framing his cheekbones you so badly wanted to see plump with a smile. but he was worried, and you hated worrying him.

you reached out, the heel of your hand against his jaw as he leaned into your palm. his hand met the back of yours, pressing your touch on his flesh as if being flush together still wasn’t enough. “i missed you,” you answered. another lie cloaked in truth.

he knew that wasn’t the full story, but he wouldn’t pry. he took hold of your fingers, bringing your hand close to place kisses on them. you giggled breathlessly, as it was forever so easy to put your worries to the side when he was there to comfort you. you traced your thumb on his smooth skin. “i always miss you, hwa.”

he held your hand to his chest, his gaze now exuding adoration and his heart beating a bit faster than normal against your intertwined hands. “i miss you every second that i’m away from you.” you shared a smile at the dramatics of the dialogue, but understood the heavy truth behind the words spoken. “how about we get dinner together, and then i’ll help you get ready for bed properly, ok?”

you nodded, your eyes now closed with content, taking a grounding moment to inhale his scent, his presence, his love. it was enough to bring you back down to earth for the moment. the playful words came out of your mouth before you could stop them. “yes, mommy.”

as your eyes immediately opened, fearful that your silly comment could’ve offended him, you were surprised to see his eyes had fallen closed; his eyebrows downturned at the sides but furrowed in the middle. he exhaled through his nose, a quiet, breathy groan.

you stammered, “i-i’m sorry, i —”

“i liked that,” he interrupted, his voice barely audible. “can you say it again?”

“oh, i…” your voice was now hoarse with embarrassment.

“please.” he all but begged.

“yes, mommy,” you finally repeated. you had said it so easily as a joke, but now that you were meant to say it seriously, you were bashful.

but he squeezed your fingers again as you spoke, his eyes fluttering open, letting go of your hand to take hold of your thigh. he leaned down, your heart pounding as his forehead rested to yours. his breath was warm, his lips like silk as they touched your mouth. “baby…”

his touch was burning, sudden lust heating the air between the two of you. you still felt unsure, but were starting to find such love behind calling him this newfound pet name he didn’t know he wanted. “mommy.”

with that, he was on top of you, his hips thrust against yours, the need you both felt for one another finally meeting between your legs. he had one arm propping himself up, the other cradling your head with his thumb resting against the side of your throat. your hands tangled in his hair, he kissed you feverishly. his fingertips felt scorching enough to leave scars.

you gasped as he pulled away, your lips left cold and swollen with arousal. he nudged your nose with his own, your mouths parted and sharing the same breath, desperate to keep going.

his hand left your face and was on your thigh in an instant, creeping up beyond the band of your undies, grazing your hip bone up to the curve of your waist. you begged the moment to last forever, soaking up his touch, every other thought eternally unimportant. past your ribcage, he grasped your breast, eliciting a whimper from you, and another quiet moan from him.

“baby,” he repeated, yet his thoughts interrupted, distracted by the handful of you.

“yes?” you whispered back.

he leaned down, his voice tickling your ear. “mommy loves your body.”

you let out a cry, your eyes closing as tension and desire pulsed between your legs. his hips shifted against yours, his fingers giving your breast a gentle squeeze.

“i want to take care of your body, baby…” a kiss to your jaw, your cheek, your lips. “but you have to be a good girl first, and let mommy get you ready for bed.” he ran his thumb over your nipple, your entire body reacting to the touch… before sitting up and slowly taking his hand back from under your shirt.

you pouted. “hwa…”

he shook his head, giving you a playful smirk. “no pouting. go get ready for dinner, okay?”

heaving out a sigh, you sit up, shoving him gently. “you’re torturing me.”

“no, baby.” he pulled you to his lap, giving you a tight hug. “you’re a good girl and i’ll give you what you want after you do as you’re told. okay?”

you took his face in your hands, kissing him fiercely enough in hopes to leave him dizzy. he didn’t object; his grasp on you became stronger as he proved your intent successful. you laughed as you released the kiss, biting his lip gently.

he gave your butt a gentle pat as you stood, letting you take his hand and hoist him off the bed with you. he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “i love you, princess.”

“i love you, mommy.”

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹

[andorerso]

INTRODUCING REBELCAPTAIN SMUT WEEKEND MONTH

I'd made a promise to make something smutty, and I'm here to keep that promise. In the legacy of the much beloved Rebelcaptain Smut Weekend, I'm organizing a Rebelcaptain Smut Weekend Month! Since I felt like a single weekend was just not enough time for all the smutty goodness, I thought why not do four weekends instead? This gives us more to look forward to and more time to create.

SCHEDULE: the event will run during May, every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday (so that means May 3-5, 10-12, 17-19, and 24-26)

RULES

✩ the obvious ones: your creation has to be about Jyn and Cassian, and since it's a smut themed month, it should be at least a little spicy!

✩ I'll be using the tag rcsmutmonth for organization. feel free to tag your creations with it too so we can all find each other's works!

✩ no sign-ups required, anyone can participate. if you see a prompt you like, and you want to make something for it, go ahead!

✩ any type of fanwork is welcome! fanfic, fanart, gifset, graphics, rec lists... you name it.

✩ I provided nine prompts for each weekend as inspiration, but don't feel constricted if you don't like them. the point of this event is to encourage more smutty content for our beloved ship, so if you have other ideas in mind, go for it! as for the prompts, use as many as you like and mix them up if you want to.

✩ generally, I encourage you guys to post on the weekend, but don't feel bad if you can't get it done on time. this is a low-commitment, low-pressure event. we're all busy irl so if you're lagging a little behind, post it anyway! we'll be happy to see it whenever it's ready <3

✩ tag appropriately! if triggers or kinks appear in your work, don't forget to list them.

✩ any other questions, thoughts, ideas? let me know! this is my first time organizing such an event, so I'm sure I'm forgetting something

PROMPTS UNDER THE CUT

✩ May 3-5

last night on earth sex ┃ distraction ┃ "Touch me already."

sex pollen ┃ aphrodisiac ┃ "Tell me how much you want me."

"we're alive" sex ┃ birthday ┃ "I want you to take whatever you need from me."

✩ May 10-12

wet dream ┃ forbidden┃ "Want me to stop?" "Don't you dare."

hate/angry sex ┃ favor ┃ "We can wait if you want-" "We've waited long enough."

praise kink ┃ possessive ┃ "Tell me I'm the one. Tell me there's no one else."

✩ May 17-19

orgasm denial ┃ strip ┃ "Do I need to tie you up?"

snowed in ┃ undercover ┃ "Convince me this is real."

under the stars ┃ uniform ┃ "Say my name. I want to hear you say it."

✩ May 24-26

make-up sex ┃ elevator ┃ "I can’t get off unless I’m thinking about you."

accidental voyeurism ┃ sparring ┃ "Think we'll get caught?"

reunion sex ┃ honeymoon ┃ "On your knees, Captain/Sergeant."