#i wanna be a horse with a human soul

[sweet-milky-tea705]

Yearning for manual labor but also a body that wont crumple immediately from the thought

[blackhholes]

teen wolf meme: [6/6] creatures -> ghost riders

In storm clouds just like these, phantom hunters would appear, riding black horses with blood-red eyes, and wolves and hounds at their side, baying and snarling. What were they hunting? Souls.

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 05 - Dragon Cock]

Pairing: Soft Dom!Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: Dragon!Yoongi, Fantasy!AU, Secret Love!AU

Kinks: dragon cock, cunnilingus, magical spit, vaginal fingering, vaginal penetrative sex, he tries so hard to be gentle with her, breeding, creampie, multiple orgasms, praise, strength kink, size kink (he is a lot bigger ‘cause dragon yk), giddy aftercare

Wordcount: 5.5k

a/n: i love him i love him i love him!! he is my beloved pookie and i’ve only known him for one day! also, click this link if you wanna see his delicacies :) i’m serious, do it :)

You lived in Bailemon, which liked to consider itself a town, but it was very far from that. It was small, perhaps even small enough to be considered a village instead of a town. Not many outsiders visited Bailemon because it was far from big cities, nestled between two high mountain ranges and hidden in a dense forest. The roads were passable, but not good. People here lived from the forest and from the little mountainous farming they were able to do during the warmer months.

Your town – or village – had a village square where each second day, the farmers and merchants gathered to sell their goods. In autumn, there was a festival of fire held on the square to ward off the evil spirits of winter. Bailemon also had a place of worship, which was considered holy beyond comparison. It was said that on its grounds, evil cannot tread and in times of danger, one should run to it for shelter.

The people in your village were superstitious, they believed in ghosts, dark magic and demons. You knew their superstition to be justified. This world was dark. The nights during the cold months were too long not to bring forth evil. But you also knew that stuff like holy grounds were nothing but lies to make life in the village easier. Evil walks where it pleases, it takes what it wants and leaves no room for escape.

You lived in the village with your aging parents, taking care of them as their only surviving child. You had a brother once, but he walked into the forest one day and never returned. People say that evil spirits got him, but you know that this was a lie because you looked for him. At least you tried to because you never found him nor traces of evil spirits. You are convinced that it was simply a pack of hungry wolves which took him from your family. Or perhaps he ran away to somewhere warmer and happier. You wouldn’t blame him.

As the only living child of your parents, it became your duty to tend to them in their growing age. You earned money forging swords for the Queen’s army and went hunting whenever food ran out. You also helped the farmers shoe their horses and ox and sometimes scared villagers came to you asking for yet another lock for their front door. Your family lived well thanks to you, even if work by the forge was hard and difficult.

If you weren’t sweating by the scorching fire or hunting in the forest, you walked it in search of berries and mushrooms or to train with your sword. The reason however why you walked the woods most, was the dragon living high up in the northern mountains.

Dragons. Yes, they were as real as evil spirits and wicked demons were and your village was under the protection of one.

Dragons didn’t look as one might imagine a dragon to look like, at least not always. They could morph their enormous dragonic bodies into human-like bodies and walk among people. Their eyes, however, always remained a fiery yellow and their canine teeth were always sharp and pointy. They were also taller than normal humans and had scales down their necks and torsos. Some even had scales on their hands and sharp claws which sliced deeper than any blade ever could. In the lands of humans, dragons were considered gods.

The festival of fire was held because of the dragon living in the mountains. A brave soul is sent to his lair to ask him for his presence each year. Then once the dragon comes down from his high home, he lights the fire with his hot breath and with it, wards off the evil winter spirits. Once the fire burns bright, the villagers begin dancing around the fire in pairs, thanking the dragon for the fire and his protection while he sits on a wooden throne, overlooking the dance. He is always alone during these festivities, drinking wine and eating meat, except for when one of the many willing women – and men – try catching his attention. He never reciprocates. 

Marrying a dragon was considered a gift from the gods and not many were successful. Dragons were a distant people – perhaps that is why they became so rare these days – and scarcely engaged with humans except for when they were needed. They lived longer than any human ever would and because of their bigger bodies, many who tried to be intimate with a human, ended up hurting their beloved counterpart. So for the safety of humans, of whom the dragons were very fond, they stayed away from them.

That doesn’t stop you however from regularly walking the path to the dragon’s lair. Sword strapped to your back and with a thick dress warming your body, you walk the steep and stony path. You put your parents to sleep already and locked the cottage. The priest spoke of evil spirits dancing on the wind tonight and you didn’t want to risk anything. You knew that they were safe in your house because you placed dragon ash by each window and door. It was the only thing which truly kept evil away and it is a regular present the dragon gives you.

You take a deep breather once you reach the mountain plateau in front of his cave. Marks of his dragon body landing dig deep into the grey gravel. Small autumn flowers grow in its deep crevices. The dragon placed a pot of flowers next to the cave entrance. You have to chuckle each time you pass it because of its peculiarity. It looks so out of place and yet fits his character so well.

“Yoongi!” you call out the dragon’s name, voice echoing in the big cave. You venture deeper into the cave, leaving the cold autumn air behind. “Yoongi, are you home?”

His lair consisted of two caves. One big and deep and one smaller. The big cave was in the front, welcoming you with endless darkness as it dug deep into the mountain. It smelled ancient and wet in here and there was always a faint sound of water trickling somewhere. Yoongi can fly in it when he is in his true form and hide on the ceiling when he doesn’t want to be found. The smaller cave was where he lived however. You have to take a sharp turn to the right for it and walk through a corridor-like walkway. The ceiling shrinks in height until it was but six meters.

“Yoongi, are you in here?” you try again, entering his true lair. Your voice doesn’t echo anymore. Lantern and torches light up the walls, a fireplace warms the space, expensive rugs cover the stone ground and golden furniture fills the room. Gold, jewels and crystals are scattered all around the cave in heaps or stuffed into big treasure chests. It feels homely here and tonight it is empty.

“Where the heavens are you?” you murmur, looking around the lair. An especially golden cup calls your attention. You bend down to inspect it better, fluttering your lashes at your own distorted reflection. It brings a chuckle to your lips and you straighten up, “how silly I looked.”

You ghost your fingers over a set of earrings next. They sparkle like stars in the sky. They are so beautiful.

“Careful, they’re worth more than your entire village.”

“Oh heavens”, you startle, pulling your sword in instinct and whipping around quickly. The blade graces against your stalker’s throat without cutting them.

“Don’t strike me down just yet”, Yoongi says, lifting his hands.

“You scared me”, you say, touching his chin with the tip of your sharp sword.

The right corner of his lips curls into an amused smirk, revealing glimpses of his long fangs.

“I could tell”, he says blithely despite the sword against his throat.

You put pressure on his chin, forcing his head to tilt up and for his amused smirk to grow. His fiery eyes flicker, a deep growl rumbles in his chest. 

“I could have cut your head off”, you say. 

“And yet you didn’t.”

You flip the blade to its side, forcing him to gulp because of the sharpness against his skin.

“Careful now”, he rasps.

“Mhm”, you decide with a cock of your brow, pulling your sword back. You twirl it once then put it back into its sheath, features warming as you laugh.

His golden eyes soften and a smile curls his lips. He closes the distance, placing his big hands on your waist and bending down to kiss your lips. You rest your hands on his strong chest, getting on your tiptoes to reach him better. He breaks the kiss, rubbing his nose against yours gently. His breath smells fresh and feels warm.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“The cottage was too cold.”

He laughs, “this is the only reason?”

You snicker, dancing your hands to the nape of his strong neck to trace the scales. You shake your head, “no, I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

“You did?”

“Mh-hm very much so.”

He draws a giggle to your lips. He smiles, tasting it with a tender kiss. “Come here you”, he mumbles and deepens the kiss. He lifts you off the ground for it just enough that you didn’t have to stand on your tiptoes any longer. 

You break the kiss to talk, even if he disagrees with a low growl. His golden eyes gaze longingly at your lips.

“Where were you before I called for you?”

“Deep in the caves, digging for gold.”

“I see and were-”

He interrupts you in laughed words, “will you kiss me or do I have to steal it from you?”

“No. No, I will kiss you. I got the message”, you laugh, pulling him into a deep kiss.

Yoongi purrs deeply, holding you tighter against him as his lips fall into a passionate dance with yours.  

You met Yoongi in the year your brother died. You knew him long before that, but up until then, never talked to him. You simply watched from a distance as he lit the fire and then sat on his throne overlooking the dance. You also watched him refuse countless suitors and return to his cave alone once the festival ended. Other than that, you never engaged with him. You had always found him interesting, because dragons are gods after all and he looked so very beautiful in his human form. His hair was as black as soot, his eyes as golden as flames and his scales were an iridescent of black and gold. He didn’t possess sharp claws, which made his touch so very gentle and tender and his lips were soft and pouty which made his kiss so very addicting.

You talked to Yoongi in the year your brother died. You spent too many days to count in the dense forest in search for him and it happened that one day, you got lost. You tried and tried to find your way back, but couldn’t. Night replaced the day and you already saw yourself freezing to death when he came. At first you thought him to be a bear, but then he asked you if you were lost and you knew that you were saved. You told him about why you were in the forest and he offered you comfort in your painful times of grief. He allowed you to talk about your brother as he walked you back to the village, he even allowed you to cry and assured you that your tears were not “entirely silly”. Once he led you back to your cottage, he gave you a bag of dragon ash and told you to spread it on each window and door to keep the rest of your family safe and you thanked him with promises of praying to him in the worship hall tomorrow. Back then, you thought that you were blessed and lucky to have an interaction with him, but you never could have imagined that this one time interaction became a regular thing.

Ever since that day, he began waiting for you by the forest road, offering you companionship in your search for your brother and like this, your walks in the forest became a regular thing until one day, you took his hand and he took yours, never wanting to let go again.

The people in the village didn’t know about your relationship with Yoongi. It was your wish to keep it secret because you knew that they would ruin it. They would force you to marry him, to bear his children, to become their goddess. You didn’t want this life, you wanted to take care of your parents and help the people with your smithies, not be someone to worship.

Yoongi didn’t mind that you wanted to keep him a secret. He liked it. He had many treasures taken from him because they were precious to him and if it was revealed that you were the most precious treasure of all, it would kill you and him in the process. He cannot lose you, not ever. Not when he walked the earth alone for so long, not when his fiery heart finally had someone to burn for.

Yoongi was lonely before he met you. He had other dragons to talk to, but he enjoyed the company of only a very, very few. He also had lots of suitors, which could have made the nights easier, but Yoongi wasn’t one for meaningless fucking. Yoongi craved connection above all. He craved intimacy and trust and conversation. He craved someone to care for and someone to see him as another living being not as a god. You give him all of this and more, but Yoongi knows that even if you didn’t give him any of that, he would love you. He loves you without reason after all. He loves you simply because it was right.

You break the kiss for air, vision just a little blurry as you look at him. You are eye to eye when you are in his arms, hands running along his scaly neck and strong shoulders. A black tunic sits on his torso, allowing his higher body heat to reach your palms. Even in the iciest nights he will warm you. Sometimes in winter, when your parents were already sleeping and the village was quiet, Yoongi sneaks into your cottage through the window (which is always hilarious because he is very big in comparison to the small frame) so he could warm you as you fell asleep. He is always gone the next morning, only having left behind a fresh bag of dragon ash and a few gold coins you could spent in the big city on food.

“You are so warm”, you say, making his eyes smile.

“You are such a delight.”

Your eyes race between the other’s, you and he feel breathless. Your fingers run up to his slightly pointy ears, scratching him behind them.

Yoongi purrs, tilting his head back as his lids flutter. 

“If you touch me like this…”

“I know.”

It is a silent understanding between you and him. Yoongi sighs your name and pulls you into a kiss. His fangs clash with yours before he naturally fixes his roughness, kissing you oh so tenderly. Tenderly, but also incredibly hungry. You moan, fingers twisting his black locks and legs closing around his waist. He answers you in a guttural growl, fingers grasping you harder.

This is also why you walked the difficult path. Not only did you want to see him, you wanted his body and touch. You craved it like fire craves wood to burn.

Yoongi walks to his bed with you, laying you atop the big mattress. He climbs over you, caging you under his big, strong body. You open your legs willingly, hands slipping from his hair to grasp the sheets instead. 

The kiss breaks because he broke it. His hot breath graces your skin. He cradles your cheek, thumb caressing your temple.

“My treasure, I”, he begins, fingers dimpling your soft thigh possessively, “I need you. I need you so much, I can scarcely breathe. Will you have me?”

You nod your head vigorously, stomach fluttering in what was to come. 

“I need to hear it, please.”

“I will. I will have you”, you allow him, parting your legs. 

Yoongi moans your name and kisses you, pulling you up into a sitting position to take off your sword. Your fingers are busy with his shirt, undoing the knots and bows. You break apart for just a moment, taking off your clothes. You cannot bother to be dressed. 

A moment of calm after the undressing, used to stare at each other. You are both kneeling on the bed, facing each other. He is panting, growling deeply each time he exhales like a dragon ready to spit fire. The sound makes you wetter each time he does it. His torso is muscular and his scales hug his form as if he was wearing armour. They are mostly around his chest and upper back and fade out on his lower torso. His legs and crotch are free of scales, skin golden and sun-kissed and looking so human. You touch him, tracing the scales first before making your way down to his legs. 

He lets you, eyes mesmerised by the plumpness of your breasts and the curves of your bared body. He reaches out, sending his fingers on a walk along your landscape. 

“You are so beautiful”, he speaks softly, eyes gazing at the goosebumps his touch draws to the surface. 

“You are just as beautiful”, you tell him, caressing the silken skin of his stomach.

You reach his hips. His skin is so soft there and sensitive to scratches. You give him exactly that, making his cock twitch between his thighs. 

Yoongi’s cock wasn’t human and the first time you saw it in its full size, you understood why so many dragons ended up hurting their lovers. It was the cock of a dragon, made for dragon. If he was in his true form, you are actually unable to take it because of its enormous size. If he was in his human form, it shrunk with him, but it was still insanely big in comparison to human cocks. His cock curved slightly in the shape of an S. He wasn’t smooth as humans were, instead his length had an engorged tip with a textured shaft, which stimulated even your deepest spots. When he released inside you, his base swelled up, keeping his cock lodged inside you until your quivering walls had enough of drinking his nectar. 

You were scared at first and Yoongi, feeling just a little insecure that you couldn’t like his cock, told you that you could still escape if you so wished to do. The fear in his voice drew you closer to him back then and you assured him that you could make it work because you wanted nobody else to fill you than him. He took your virginity that night and for not one second, you felt pain or discomfort, lying in his arms afterwards while his fingertips drew shapes of adoration on your skin and he whispered how much he adored you.

The memories of countless shared nights draw you closer to him and your hand to his cock, tracing his textured shaft. Despite his many pumps and crevices, his skin was soft to the touch. He was hotter than humans and it made his length feel incredible inside. It is best described as a feeling of burning from the inside in the most pleasurable of ways and once he releases inside, oh, once his hot cream fills your belly to the point of bloating, the heat is so intense that you often end up screaming in ecstasy. 

You close your fingers around his base tightly and drag them up to his tip. The pressure is enough to squeeze droplets of precum out of his slit, eliciting a deep growl from him. 

He frowns, exhaling a hot swirl of breath on your face. It wasn’t painful, simply insanely arousing. His fingers dimple your hips as he grabs you. You wobble slightly from the intense touch, hand trembling around his large cockhead.

“You are playing with fire”, he lulls, eyelids heavy in pleasure.

“I like it hot”, you taunt, twisting your fist around his tip. 

“You drive me insane”, he gets out and slaps your hand away for the sole purpose of pushing you into the sheets. He pins your hands above your head. “One day it will end in your punishment.” 

You moan, writhing under him. You wouldn’t mind being punished if it meant that you could feel his touch.

“Stay like this.” 

You whimper, nodding your head in obedience. 

“I will be gentle, I promise.” 

He lowers his lips to your neck, kissing a path down to your heat. He is hasty in his kisses, letting his impatience shine through this way. Dragons, so he told you, are a greedy people. Once they lust for something - or in his case, someone - they would do anything to claim it as quickly as possible. Stuff like taking it slow and preparing you are foreign to his people, but he does it for you. He is so good in being patient, but sometimes his greed shines through. Tonight for example when he kisses a greedy and hasty path down your body just so he could be between your legs faster. 

He places one kiss on each of your inner thighs, strong fingers gripping your flesh afterwards to pull your legs apart. His fiery eyes race over your exposed cunt, flickering hungrily.  

“You are so wet already”, he rasps. 

“I wanted you all week.” 

“I wanted you more, you have no idea.” 

Patience finally leaves him and he claims what he lusts for most, drawing a yelp of pleasure from you. You arch your back, legs shaking in his hold and fingers grasping his thick hair as he feasts on your cunt sloppily. 

Yoongi pleases you with his mouth for two reasons, he told you. The first reason is his insatiable hunger and greed. You are sweeter than anything he could ever taste and your cunt’s nectar makes his head blurry in pleasure. The second reason is the more important one. It is to make you ready for his dragonic cock. The spit of a dragon is relaxing to a human, it contains elements which not only heighten the sensitivity of their nerve endings, but which also relaxes the muscles so their holes could take a dragon’s cock easily. Yoongi confessed to you back then that the reason why so many dragons hurt their human lovers is because they don’t take time to properly relax them. They let their lust and greed control them and as a result hurt their humans.

Yoongi would never. Yoongi takes his time with you. He licks every inch of your dripping heat, buries his long tongue deep in your walls and pumps it into you until your tightened walls loosened up and you are gaping for his cock. He licks you to orgasm whenever he prepares you and you always shake in his grip, forcing his greed to grow to unbearable levels. Yoongi loves your orgasms as much as he loves gold. 

Tonight is no different, Yoongi draws an overwhelming orgasm out of you. You scream, legs trying to close on his head and weakened body helplessly shaking on the sheets. Yoongi growls into you, pushing his fingers deep into your loose cunt so he could feel your walls tremble. 

He keeps them inside you after your high ebbed down, curling them greedily while his soiled lips kiss up your body. He grabs your wrists and holds them together, big body draped over yours and fingers rubbing your sensitive insides. 

“You’re sweating”, he rasps, gazing at you obsessively.

“Please fuck me, please”, you beg, voice so close to a sob. His fingers aren’t enough. “I need your cock, please.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

“I will be gentle, I promise”, he says, slipping his fingers from your cunt to jerk his own cock. He guides it to your gaping cunt, rubbing it through your folds. “You are so beautiful, my treasure”, he breathes, giving you all his adoration by pushing into you. 

You gasp, tensing up under him at the feeling of his engorged tip pushing past your entrance.

“Are you hurting?” he asks, moving as slowly as possible. 

You shake your head, gazing up at him droopily. 

“Tell me if it does. You are doing so well, my treasure”, he whispers, fingers rubbing your swollen clit to make the breach easier. 

“It feels so good…” 

You can feel his large tip as it digs deeper and deeper, but what truly feels like heaven are the many pumps and crevices filling you. Your entrance is on pleasurable fire, feeling every texture inch by inch. His saliva made your walls sensitive to the very end, forcing you to feel his textured cock even deep inside. He curves so perfectly that his large tip presses against you deepest pleasure spot, forcing your belly to bulge just a little because he was so, so big. 

“I’m in. Does it hurt?” he asks, keeping still for your sake. His greed tells him to take you rough. It takes everything inside him not to give into his animalistic side. 

You spill tears. 

“No. No, I’m sorry I-” he panics, but gets stopped when you rip your hands free from his grasp to cradle his face instead.

“I love you, Yoongi.” 

He shudders, melting into your hands.

“I love you too”, he gets out and twists the pillow above your head as he begins pumping his cock into you. “Does this please you?”

“A-ah”, you let out, trembling in reaction. 

“Is it too much?”

“No, please…don’t stop”, you croak, rolling your eyes back as you fall into the pleasurable fire. Your lips part, making way for the endless noises of bliss he draws out of you. It feels so good. He feels so good.

“You are so beautiful. Oh, I need you. I want you. I crave you, argh”, he growls, twisting the pillow rougher as his greedy hips pick up speed. Your moans drive him wild, the view of your glowing face has the same effect on him than the view of fresh gold does. He feels high, head pounding as he feeds his insatiable lust with each heavy, deep thrust. 

Your body is so small under him, looking so fragile and breakable and yet you take him so easily. Yoongi rips the pillow, grinding his fangs as he growls. He buries his cock deeper in your gaping walls, forcing your back to arch off the mattress and for your voice to rise in pitch. He lets his tail grow just so he could wrap it around your waist and hold you in this position while he rubbed your pulsating clit and fucked your soft cunt. 

“You’re mine. My treasure, my everything, my beloved”, he chants, deep voice contorted in pleasure.

He is still in disbelief that you can take him so easily. So small, so fragile, so soft and yet you can house him entirely. The first time he laid with you, Yoongi barely went past his first two inches, moving carefully and slowly just so he wouldn’t hurt you. He would have been fine if that was all that you could ever take, but you proved him so wrong. He can be free with you. You can fully take him and it makes you moan so blissfully that Yoongi feels high just from the sound of it.

He is so blessed to have you. His treasure, his beloved, his everything. His tail tightens around your waist possessively, angling your hips so he could go so much deeper. 

You wail his name, fingers gripping his strong arms and legs dropping as they stop working. Only his tail holds you up right now while you shake under him.

“Are you?”

“Yes”, you wail, moaning loudly afterwards.

“I need you, I fucking need you”, he spits, cursing because you anger him in pure lust, “I’m going to fill you with my seed until you’re bursting. I will paint your walls golden, you will be mine. Mine forever, urgh.” 

“Please! Please make me yours, please!” 

Yoongi lets out a dragonic growl, ripping the pillow apart and throwing his head back as your pleas break him. His big balls empty themselves in your trembling heat, giving you so much pleasure that you orgasm again with screams of his name. There is so much of his seed and it doesn’t want to stop, filling you up past your limits so it squirts out of you with each angry thrust. And Yoongi keeps going until his base swells and he genuinely cannot move his cock anymore. 

He drops his head into the crook of your neck, huffing and puffing demonically. His cock is still releasing into you, making you sob because the pressure of his engorged base and swollen tip against your overly sensitive walls makes you orgasm again. 

“Yoongi, I can’t do this. I can’t, it feels too good”, you plead, walls clenching around his swollen cock as they drink his golden seed greedily. 

“I know, my treasure, I know”, he soothes you, “I can’t stop. I’m so greedy, I can’t stop. I’m sorry.”

“I can’t do this, Yoongi. Yoongi please”, you beg, barely able to breathe. While dragon’s spit relaxes, their seed gives a human a rush of pleasure. The first time it happened, you cried because it was so overwhelming. You still need to cry often whenever he breeds you and tonight all that holds you back is the loving embrace of his tail around your waist. It feels so good but also like too much because you cannot stop orgasming.

“Not again, ah please Yoongi!!”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. It’s almost over, I promise. Please hold onto me, it’s almost over”, he soothes you, massaging your engorged clit to make it easier to bear. 

Your stomach is so bloated from his seed, you are sweating so much. He can feel one more load building up. 

“I need you to breathe for me. One last time, I promise”, he lulls and rolls his hips into you. 

You writhe and scream, scratching down his neck with all your might. You don’t draw blood because his scales protect him, but he still feels it as a pleasurable tingle. 

Yoongi lifts his head to look at you. It lasts one second because then his eyes roll back as the view of your ruined, drugged body sets him off. 

“I love you”, he wails, bursting into you one last time. He makes you orgasm with him, walls tightening to the point of milking him dry. 

This is what you both needed. To be so connected. 

He drops his head back into your neck, fingers slipping from the ruined pillow to pet your head instead.

“My treasure, oh my treasure, my golden beloved”, he croaks, kissing you gently, “I’m sorry for being so greedy, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t. I’m so happy”, you get out, body laying limp and ruined under him. His swollen cock is still inside you, keeping every droplet of his golden seed in you. It warms you so much, makes you feel so good.

“You are? You’re happy?” he asks.

“So happy.” You hug him with your weak arms, barely able to close them around his broad back. “I’m yours.”

He whimpers, seeking your closeness by hugging you against his chest with his strong arm and his tail. 

“Oh my most loved treasure.” He kisses a slow path up to your face, cradling your cheek with his unoccupied hand. “Will you stay the night? I promise to fly you down to the village by morning.” 

“Yes, I’d like to stay. I couldn’t possibly walk tonight. Not after how you ruined me.”

A shy giggle slips from his lips. You open your eyes, meeting his giddy gaze. His cheeks are flushed, his dark hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead. The view of him makes his cock feel so much better inside you. You are his. So entirely and willingly his. 

“I couldn’t help it. I missed you so much and, and you are so tempting. Did I hurt you?”

“No, it felt so good. You still do”, you say, clenching around his swollen cock. He shudders slightly, drawing closer to you.

“I promise my cock will soften soon, you just feel so good. I’m trying, but he wants to bask in you longer, I’m sorry.” 

“I hope he doesn’t soften soon. I don’t want this to end.” 

He blushes, but needs to seek more reassurance still.

“Please forgive me for the way I acted when I bred you. I acted like a greedy animal.” 

“Mhm, you did. Because you are a greedy animal. My greedy dragon, mine”, you say caressing his soft cheek.

He leans into your touch, eyes lowering in adoration. You giggle, scrunching your nose cutely. He smiles, brushing some messy strands of hair out of your forehead. 

“I love you, my little human.”

“And I love you, my strong dragon.”

[thewinchestah]

"Chega de Saudade" - Alastor X Reader fic

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader.

Summary: When Alastor breaks into the V's building seven years later he expects to find a lot of things, lot of obnoxious, enraging, tacky things. He did not expect to find you. The Radio Demon does not take betrayl lightly and you have to live with the consequences of selling your soul to his worst enemy. Better yet, you have to live with the consequences of selling your soul to Vox and Alastor finding out. The soul you sold because Alastor left you for 7 years. Safe to say, it's a mess. A pretty, angsty, dark and delicious mess.

Warnings: Alastor is in Hell for a reason,general hellish violence,general hellish creepiness,eventual smut, i carioca coded valentino bc i can and bc he is very carioca sorry everyone,blackmail, Soul Selling, author is really invested in politics and decided to micromanage hazbin hotel canon, Corruption, Extortion, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, but nothing too explicit,mature themes in general, canon divergence, Not Canon Compliant, Eventual Smut, Alastor gets insane in this one you've been warned, fear play, Possessive Behavior, posessive sex, big bad radio demon is gonna fuck up the guy who stole his girl and will make it everyone's problem, Reader-Insert,no y/n,no beta we die like men here, i feel bad for tagging vox in this fic cause i think it's a disservice i really hate him and i make it clear so vox stans be warned, it's hell i hope y'all remeber ethics are fluid, posessive!Alastor, unhinged!Alastor, Isane!Alastor

Taglist: honestly only my queen @jyoongim i have no credibility to tag anyone anymore after being away for so long. If you wanna be tagged on future updates just let me know!

A/N:HI HEY BUNNY ANON IF YOU ARE STILL HERE THIS ONE FOR YOU!! Hiii everyone guess who's back. I had this fic cooking for a while now, actually i had a lot of writing cooking but in a very Ao3 author fashion a lot happened. You see i was on this writing streak and then my 15yo dog died while i was out of state. I had to go back on anti depressants and take a sabbatical. I got a new puppy and she's the light of my life. Got super sick, won a horse show. My first plan for this fic was having the first 3 chapters done and ready for debuting together because i always feel i'm lacking when i show up with only one chapter lol. After a while i realised i needed to get this first chapter out too see the light of day if i wanted to write again so here it is. This fic is a bit different from my other Alastor fics and i have a rough outline of 5 chapters so i think this beast will be more than 20k words long for sure. I decided to get a little deeper into Hell's politics and all the "no one ever thought of using heavenly weapons against hell even tough Hell's ancient and the best worst of humanity and demonkind is here". I call that bullshit sorry i'm brazilian i'm well versed in shady politicians and shady politics and unfortunatly, dear reader, you are in for this ride too. This fic kicks off right after "Stayed Gone". Also did i mention i'm brazilian and that my works are heavily inspired by brazilian media. This entire fic was inspired by one of my favourite songs of all time "Chega de saudade". And let's be real, Alastor and bossa nova are the perfect match. So yeah, english is not my first language and this isn't beta'd so sorry for any confusion or mistakes. Thank you so so much for reading my fics and always leaving the most kind beautiful and heartwarming feedback. I hope i can still deliver a nice story to my darling readers.

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CHAPTER ONE: chega de saudade a realidade é que sem ela n��o pode ser.

In the first year you were calm and collected. There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation to why he is gone. Is he even gone, gone? He’s coming home soon, you can feel it. 

In the second year you convinced yourself there were signs everyone explaining why he was gone and when he was coming back, you were just too oblivious to them before. But everything can be a sign when you are delusional.

In the third year you cried so much you felt you were constantly drowning. You barely left home and some thought you were gone too. Gone to him.

In the fourth year you finally gave in and took the deal. Lack of self-preservation and machiavellian schemes working together to create a trap for him. He would come home out of anger, ire. But you can't outfox the fox.

In the fifth year you decided to scour hell and beyond after him. You went to places just to taunt him. Paranoia became your best friend, blood sweat and tears as you repeat “This time it will work, I'm sure of it”. Can a lie be said so many times it becomes the truth?

In the sixth year you accept defeat. You buried him deep and went about like he never existed in the first place. Isn’t it mystifying how this city screams his name?

It’s the seventh year now. The alarm on your phone rings and rings and you feel like scratching your face off. It’s time to meet your damned executioner.

Rolling out of bed you open the curtains to let some light in. The penthouse from the V’s building has a great view of Pentagram City, looking down you get the feeling of dystopian sci-fi that is so characteristic of the technology district. Limelights, digital outdoors, and big opulent, oppressing screens greet you like a constellation of dead stars, long distorted from their original purpose and form. 

You follow processional routine as you get ready. Choose a beautiful dress, put on make-up, and do your hair. It all feels like preparation for a sacrifice. One thing you learned from Alastor is that appearances are the best strategy and you intend to greet your handmade battlefield like a roman legion. 

Alastor. Even thinking of his name hurts, especially today when you need to face the consequences of your actions, the consequences of his actions. He is gone, he left you. And now Vox owns your soul. You blame your fall from grace entirely on him, he forced your hand, he made you do it. Out of desperation, out of defiance, you sold your soul to Vox so he would come back and save you, so he would come back out of hatred, anger and ire to tell how foolish you were, how betrayed he felt.

Betrayal. Selling your soul to his sworn arch enemy should be treason worthy of him dropping anything he was doing to come and punish you, to address you. You just wanted to get a reaction out of him, proof that he still cared. That he didn’t just get bored of the empire of terror he fought so hard to build in Hell. That he didn’t, deep down, just disregard you like a shiny novelty, to be left when it got old. 

You dry the persistent tears that insist on falling with clinical coldness. You are past feeling sad now, you don’t even feel angry anymore. You are past any emotion really, you just want to get this over with and get back home.

You went about your deal with Vox in many different ways, sometimes you felt like it was a good alliance, a slap on Alastor’s face. A side quest to gather as much information from the V’s inner circle, a social experiment. The truth is, during these past almost four years you were a mental gymnastics pro to justify your new arrangements. The cognitive dissonance required to live with the decision of being forever tied to Vox was an herculean task and boy he didn’t make it any easier on you. He would never be as refined as Alastor when it came to torture but there’s something about the coldness and calculated reality of the television business that was it’s own type of Dante’s inferno.

As soon as he got word of Alastor’s disappearance the TV overlord was on your scent, and he wasn’t shy about it either. You dodged him and led him on for almost four full years before finally giving in, everything was more or less under control during the early years of Alastor’s disappearance. 

Until you saw the angel army leaving.

  Death and gore were all around you. The sky rained blood. You couldn’t breathe. You tried to take a step forward only to realize you were knee-deep in demon blood. Adam was particularly ruthless this time, he seemed to have realized the unbalance in Hell’s power structure with one of the most prolific demon overlord’s absence and took full advantage of it. You choked on the sulfur filled air while the portal closed and Adam threw a last middle finger at the Pride Ring. A clawed hand offered you support as you were about to fall, your heart skipped a beat, for a split second you felt elation. In that split second a thousand thoughts, four years of misery and confusion passed through your mind like a movie. You were sure this was Alastor, showing up after the unprecedented carnage of today’s reaping. With the next heartbeat came the delivery of the most cruel reminder: the hand reaching for you was Vox’s. Alastor doesn’t care about anything anymore, not even losing territory. 

The TV overlord was covered in thick, red blood and looked vindicated, a wide chesire’s cat grin on his face. Baptized in carnage, Vox had finally triumphed for the V’s.The V’s were now a force to be reckoned with in Hell, there’s no argument to be made.  A good chunk of Alastor’s territory was now under their control, and everything that came with it too. Including you. 

“My darling doe, be careful, we can’t have you hurt after the battle is won can we?” 

Darling doe.

You threw up at the casual cruelty of the name Alastor called you with such affection being desecrated by Vox. He still supported you as you spilled your guts, you’d blame it on the nerves, the adrenaline, the reeking smell of death. Not on the fact that you knew he finally won, that the thing that broke you was to hear your name like that, on your lover archenemy’s lips. After that it happened. You sold your soul to vox. Of course he coerced you into it, and you were so mad with grief and betrayal that you felt like betraying Alastor back was the just thing to do. Pettiness and paradoxical hope dripping from your lips as the whole thing was done. 

Every year this same flashback assaulted your mind as you got ready to meet Vox on the anniversary of your deal. It never went past the look you gave those pixelated eyes as he held you on that barren land, stopping right there when you made the decision that finalized your ruin. You still wouldn’t, couldn't face what really went down when you formalized your deal with Vox. Those memories were suppressed and tucked in under layers and layers of regret and self-hatred. 

You gave yourself a final look in the mirror. No makeup smudging this time, you were getting good at numbing your feelings. Just a few tears, no more sobbing.

The yearly meeting with the V’s after the extermination was the perfect cover actually, everything was done in a way that it seemed like you were all cooperating. After all, you did hold a very good knowledge of the inner workings of Alastor’s deals, subordinates and territory. You knew who the V’s could “call in favours” and how to keep the peace. Or as close to peace as peace came when an abrupt power transition happened in Hell. You were a valuable asset to anyone really. Articulated in politics, masterful at the art of persuasion, kind, soft, charismatic, assertive, all in perfect balance, and frankly, breathtakingly beautiful. It wasn’t without reason that Alastor fell for you and that you became his most trusted advisor. You and Rosie were able to conceal his absence and manage his affairs for good two years and the better part of the third without raising any suspicion. Of course, the bigger they are the harder they fall and now you were walking down the corridor of the V’s building carrying a bulk of important intel that would dictate the fate of the Overlord power structure for the next year, at least. 

The hallways of the building changed a lot since you first walked them. As the V’s grew in power, the building grew in grandeur. It was now an imposing beast, looming over Pentagram City. Modern corporate architecture that incorporated the savage capitalism of Vox Tech. Savage, cold, sterile, overbearing that’s how being inside the lair of Hell’s most up and coming trio felt. The tall ceilings and big glass windows were exactly what you would expect of a broadcasting network and silicon valley Big Tech company combined. As an esteemed guest, you got the privilege of staying in the coveted penthouses, with someone to attend to your every wish and demand. You also got an idea that Vox went a little extra with your treatment as a form of flirtation, he has been trying to convince you into moving in for a while, every time you stayed in, your usual penthouse had some shiny new thing that was  made just for you, as he repeatedly emphasized. 

This year’s token of affection was a makeup mirror-gadget-thingy, that looked out of a Totally Spies episode. You had to admit to yourself that this was way more thoughtful and useful than the gifts from the previous years. The thing was cute, practical and would come in handy, which was a big improvement. Vox had tried to sway you with all types of guns and high tech devices in vain. Well, there was also that embarrassing stance with the wire flowers with a hidden recording device. Needless to say that after that entire debacle Vox learned that he may own your soul but you weren’t a damsel in distress and you would reinforce your side of the bargain if he went too far. 

You reached the elevator and went in, pushing the button for your destination. 

The earlier you start this the earlier it is over, you remind yourself.

The panoramic elevator descended to the well guarded conference room, the guards didn’t bat an eye to you entering. You realized you were becoming a familiar face around here, that made you dread what’s ahead of you even more.

“There she is! Hello princesa, I missed that pretty face!” Valentino greets you. He’s the only one inside, sitting on the edge of the table.  Well, that’s unusual… you think. Vox was always the first to get to the post-extermination meetings, plus he always gave you a slightly early timetable so he could have some alone time with you. Something must be going on.

“Hey Valentino, it’s nice to see you too! What gossip do you have for me today?” you give your best chirpy tone to the love moth. Look, you know how bad Valentino is, he is despicable really, even to your standards. But ethics are fluid, to say the  least, in Hell. The acclaimed porn king was surprisingly engaging to talk to. He was fun and actually treated you like a person, which was paradoxical in itself, considering how infamous he is for exploiting and commodifying souls. You drove yourself mad with theories of possible agendas behind Valentino’s kindness towards you, but it was the simplest of answers really, for some reason Valentino liked you and he never denied himself of what he liked.

“You have no idea! We have a lot to catch up on, did I tell you about that bitch who was trying to spy on us?” a set arms gestures to you to sit down next to him. The next 10 minutes are spent talking frivolities with the moth. You’re not complaining, it's nice to get your mind off this dreadful day and you don’t get many. 

Valentino, as always, has a lot to say, little goes on in Hell without him knowing who, what, where and why. Information, gossip, rumors, facts, if a single out of context word can be weaponized  you better be aware that he knows. Pentagram city can be divided into districts and ruled by lots of different overlords, still, Valentino’s intricate web of influence and coercion stretches across all territories. Another poor soul manifests here and goes somewhere they should not be, talk to someone they should not talk to, discover something they should never know. All cases of “wrong place at the wrong time” are happily solved by a large sum of money from the moth and suddenly another thread is weaved into his web of knowledge, another secret  made his. Valentino doesn’t operate like most Overlords and that’s where his power  lies. He bribed and fucked his way into every major circle, every  overlord’s inner circle, Hell’s best kept secret. If you were anyone in the hellish afterlife Valentino either fucked you or fucked someone very close to you. 

Knowledge is power, and Hell’s gossip girl was proof of it.

You swallowed a lump you didn’t know existed, hearing the moth talk about how things changed in a matter of hours during the early post-war made you even more aware of the severity of the intel you were carrying. It was earth shattering (no pun intended) information. 

Angels can be hurt. Angels can be killed. That meant a completely different way of existing in the afterlife, if this information goes public, the consequences are unpredictable and dire.

You don’t feel excitement knowing you technically can fight back, you feel pure dread.

To be completely honest, you feel like these “news” are not really news. You were pretty acquainted with politics back on Earth and this whole “omg no one knew about this! even though this was staring us right on your faces! is total bullshit. Hell is ancient, the exterminations are not a new thing, and there are some pretty smart people down here. To think that millenia after millenia masters of torture and skilled killers never thought of using heaven’s own firepower against them is wishful thinking at best. Sure, maybe after a few generations most sinners, even those who have power, may have been kept out of the loop about the chick in the holy army’s armor… but not knowing this at all just feels like a pretty convenient case of collective amnesia. 

Convenient, that’s exactly what this is. It’s brutal, but that’s Hell. A scheduled massacre is a blessing to those who rule to maintain, reinforce and extend their power. And if you get lucky enough, empires will fall and you will make your move. 

Vini Vidi Vici, that’s all you need to know about how Hell's politics work. 

It’s true that with every massacre the Angel Army gets more and more brutal and unhinged. What was once justified as righteous mercy killings to stabilize the ever growing hellish population now is just a display of cruelty, these angels kill for sport. There have been rumors floating around of how the disproportional annihilation tactics are preparation for something bigger for a while now , and with the demonic royal families either operating totally off Pride Ring or being completely MIA, it is no wonder those influential enough are starting to get restless. 

And that ties back to your first point, the thing that got you picking the skin around your nails while Valentino gossips. There’s a reason why this is being revealed now, you know how creating a narrative works, a few smart words and ideas become beasts of its own. A beast of its own that will tear anything on its way with the right fuel. The V’s have fuel to spare. Whose interest is that this information stayed hidden? Whose interest is that this information was allowed to be shared now? 

Hell is constructed by layers and layers of complicated militias and parallel governance, each one a locked room of secrecy that is impossible to enter without a huge amount of connections and power. 

“In a world of locked rooms, the man with the key is king. And, honey, you should see me in a crown” Valentino wisely said to you once. He’s a man of many many keys, and right now you are holding the fucking master key under your arm. 

Speaking of Valentino, he notices that you dozed off and snaps his fingers, grounding you back to reality. 

“My, my. You must have extremely sensitive information today to keep you from hearing the nastiest, hottest gossip of the moment babe” He takes a hit from his cigarette, an elegant and sensual move straight from an Old Hollywood film. The heart shaped smoke rings caress your face and for an instant you feel hypnotized, nodding your head profusely. 

“But I already knew that” behind the rose coloured shades, you see a playful wink from his infamous red hot eyes. 

The porn overlord quickly snaps his head towards the huge automatic doors, that open and reveal Vox and Velvette walking side by side exchanging looks between them that scream conspiracy.

“Sorry about the wait, my darling” Vox purrs on your way, stopping behind your chair and placing his hands on top of it, fingers dangerously close to your neck and shoulder. He pushes your hair to the side and lingers there, on your neck. “but as they say ain’t no rest for the wicked, am I right?” Velvette takes her seat beside Vox’s empty chair, meticulously placed in front of you, polite pleasantries leaving her mouth. She’s still a mystery, you never know her true stance on you, she keeps you on your toes. Does she like you? Does she hate you? Does she even care? 

“If you say so, boss!” you give him your best pageant smile. “So, who’s climbing up the ladder of the food chain today?” You bat your eyelashes at him. Your performance begins.

“Aw baby, you know I love when you call me boss! keep talking dirty to me” Vox lands a wet kiss on your cheek and makes his way to his chair.

 Right in front of you, so he’s always staring at you, drinking in your every move. You cannot fail, you cannot falter. 

As much as you’ve gotten used to pretending, pretending you like the V’s, pretending you don’t feel disgusting inside for being here, pretending you don’t hate Alastor for putting you in this situation with a burning passion but still missing him so much you feel someday your heart will stop beating in protest to him absence, it’s still hard. Especially when Vox touches you. Your eyes focus on cybersharks swimming behind Vox’s seat and concentrate on keeping your awarding winning poker face. 

“This year looks really promising I will tell you that! The orders for both your weapons and tragedy porn cameras doubled since the last extermination! I will give credit where credit is due, that fuckboy Adam knows how to put on a show!” he snaps his fingers graphs, stats and footage appears on the various screens. But it’s all irrelevant, it won’t matter when you spill your secret. 

“Lot’s of veeeery interesting happenings but I thought this year we might… start differently. Let’s forget the profit talk for now, change things a little. Did you guys see anything out of the ordinary? Did something stand out?!” he spins around his Big Boss ™ chair and stops with his hand under his chin, leaning in to you like a schoolgirl with the hottest new gossip. 

“Oh! I heard things -” Val also leans in getting closer to the TV overlord face. 

Vox’s grin shrinks, lifting a finger in protest 

“We know, we know, you always hear things Val” he replies in a monotone tone

Velvette, who spent this entire time typing away on her phone, interjects 

“Look, don’t take this the wrong way girlypop” finally looking at you she asks, or rather, states the million dollar question “ but what Vox means is that we know you have something  big cooking inside those files, so let’s drop the bullshit and go straight to it” 

The doll puts her phone down, she knows how important this is, how this secret will probably dictate how things will go from now on. You can call Velvette many things, but she is clever and under all that attitude and posh accent lies a brilliant strategist. 

“Plus, we all know you are contractually obligated to tell anyway, so spill, and can make this quick and painless to everyone involved” 

Right, your cartesian, empirical proof that angels can be killed.  Caught on the scene of the crime with the gun in your hands. 

You don’t waste anymore time, the words leave your lips like you’re choking with the threat they present. You tell them everything: where the exorcist was killed, how he was killed, the golden ichor blood that oozed from the wound, where the body was hidden. Everyone is silent while you speak, even the mechanical sharks seem to have stopped swimming to listen. 

After that you don’t remember much more of the meeting, it felt like you took the backseat of your own mind, the overwhelming feeling of dread making you so out of breath. Something is coming, something fucking coming and you can’t breathe. Anxiety sets under your skin like a second skeleton begging to crawl its way out and you find yourself sitting in one of the lavish anterooms of the V’s building. 

“So, the cat’s out of the bag then” you recall hearing Vox saying when, as if on cue, a few moments before the meeting was being declared over, the emergency broadcast about the reduction of the extermination date from a year to six months was issued. You four watch the transmission and you wonder if that’s what it feels like to get the news of the end of the Cold War, the doomsday clock finally hits midnight and we are nuking each other out. 

Mutual destruction assured. 

Your mind wanders back to your life on earth, if life up there is better or worse these days. You died so young, everybody told you, your Untimely Demise a big topic of conversation that you yourself didn’t know much about. But nothing, nothing in all of your living years and your years from Hell to eternity could prepare you for what comes next.

“So the Radio Demon is back in town! Why is he hanging around? What does it mean for your family?” 

The news hit your ears like a tsunami and you feel dizzy. It’s easy to find a big screen here and you are running to the closest one before your brain can even compute the words. 

Alastor is back, Alastor is back, and he didn’t come find you.

The next sound wave is even worse, dragging you ashore to your feelings without any reprieve. 

“Salutations!

Good to be back on the air! Yes, I know it's been a while, since someone with style treated hell to a broadcast

Sinners, rejoice!”

This isn’t a prank, there are no cameras and a sadistic tv host waiting for your humiliating reaction, instead all pairs of eyes in Hell are glued to the screen watching as the two Overlords fight it out. 

Thus, no one notices how your entire body shakes and your vision goes black. It’s too much, and you grip the rails from the stairs that lead to the foyer for dear life. Your heart is beating out of your chest. No one notices how you cry, how you whimper Alastor’s name like a prayer, how the tears run down your face and you feel paralyzed. You want to run, a million thoughts per heartbeat making your head swim. The best you can do is collapse on the floor. So you do, you collapse trying to catch your breath as you plan your sweet escape, how you are going to Houdini yourself out of this situation right to his arms.

“Tune on in

 when I'm done, your status quo will know its race is run”

You want to kiss him, you want to slap him, you want to tell him how much you missed him, you much your fucking hate him. You want him to drag you to his rooms and make you pay for cursing him out. You want him, you want your Alastor back. You cannot breathe.

“Oh, this will be fun.”

and then all the lights go out.

There’s a beginning of an uproar happening, the electric building dies a quick and unforgiving death, demons run around and Vox is flying down the stairs trying to do damage control. But even he is failing to keep his composure, because he knows. Oh how you know too. 

Alastor is like a natural disaster, a shattering force that bends everything on its way with the sheer force of will. The inevitable reckoning that comes to your town, that judges and executes everyone that you love. 

And now he is here. 

You see the burning red hot pair of eyes first, their predatory gaze hold the entire room hostage, looking for his prey and then they land on you. 

The piercing intensity of Alastor’s eyes, the flickering reds of damnation itself, regard you with surprise, elation and something more. So overbearing those eyes are, they make you shiver, bearing the weight of his gaze that penetrates deep into your soul. Your soul that is not yours anymore, it belongs to the man he hates, the man he despises. 

The Radio Demon’s towering frame closes the distance between you two in five long strides, you do your best to keep yourself upright and not cower at the sight of him. He looks like Rapture and righteous torture, coming to deliver your setance. Vox knows his sentence is being delivered here and now too, so he runs, runs to you.  You feel static and an electrifying pull, metal clinking. A chain. A glowing blue chain on your neck and Vox’s pulling it tight.

“What? what the fuck is going on? what’s this?” snapping your neck quickly towards Vox you whimper, you beg. The few seconds you stopped looking into Alastor’s eyes causing seething rage inside the deer demon, ire that makes the room tremble. 

���“Talk over the radio, that way everyone can hear, baby” Vox says straight at Alastor, like it is a shooting gun. The look on the TV Overlord is maniac, a sideway cocky smile that drips pettiness. Just because Vox clearly lost this battle, with all tvs and electricity on petagram city going dark, it doesn’t mean he can’t still forever tarnish this victory. 

Alastor’s demonform covers the already dark building in opaque, thick shadows, radio static picks up around the room like a tornado chocking the majority of the unfortunate demons that are still inside, in a desperate attempt to seek shelter. 

No words leave the radio host’s lips as he grows even taller, breaking the posh entrance of the building, debris flying down causing even more damage, the tall glass windows shatter in a million pieces courtesy of his tentacles tearing down everything on their way. The sounds of destruction and despair are loud but you haven’t been listening to the world outside you and your returned lover’s radio dial eye’s for a while. A doe caught in the headlight of his eyes the best you can do in brace for the inevitable impact that is coming your way.

In a flash of his scarlet eyes a fire ignites, the flames born from it are unnatural, behaving like a hive mind to kill and destroy.

 You always knew that facing Alastor after these 7 years would not be easy, but you never imagine your reunion like this, in the midst  of pomppeian fire, a wild raw power, the oncoming storm that is Alastor when he attacks. 

Vox knows this fight is over, his ego hurt and today’s accounts always written as a victorious comeback from the Radio Demon, nevertheless, between the three of you Vox will always know who really won, who drew the last card, had the last laugh. He did, holding Alastor’s girl on a leash because he owns her. The soul of the woman the Radio Demon dared to love is his, the man Alastor despises with a burning passion, and that’s enough for now. 

The raging flames circle the three of you and without much more flair Vox drops his act, your chain disappearing from your neck. You drop to the floor, branching yourself on all fours. You consider crawling your way to Alastor, so you can explain, so you can cry, so you can beg. You don’t know for what exactly you will be begging for: your life? his forgiveness? his punishment? you just know a lot of begging and pleading will be involved. 

But the decision is made for you.

“Run, run my little darling doe” Vox commands “Run and do whatever you need to do” 

You get up on your feet in a completely ungracious move and Alastor’s out of the room instantly. The flames never touch you on the way out, the outside world greets you: a cacophony of screams, sirens, burning sounds, the infernal orchestra that becomes the soundtrack of your life.  

“Oh, and by the way” Vox screams from the threshold of the decaying building “we just got news that your place on Cannibal Town got trashed by some wayward sinners during extermination. But don’t worry you can always come home here, come home to me!”

You do your best to ignore his taunting, and you pray to whoever is listening that Alastor didn’t hear it. But it’s futile, the pavement where he is stepping cracks a dark cloud of static and shadows trail after him. He definitely heard and felt the implications of these words. 

“Al.. Al!” you scream running after your lover. 

Fuck, you’re still in heels, and those aren’t your running heels.

Kicking the damned shoes off you run faster, you cry harder and plead faster.

When you lived, your life always felt a bit surreal, weird stuff happened to you that you couldn’t really explain. People always joked that screenwriters of your life were the most creative people alive, the thing that happened to you never happened to anyone else. You died young, with a big, full life ahead of you, but you took this as gospel to your afterlife, after all everything related to your death was a mystery to you. But the things that happened to you living or dead were a raw reality impossible to make up.

 The uncertainty of your death only fuels your resolve to fight for the life you found in the afterworld. 

“Al, wait!” you are starting to get truly desperate, you need to get to him otherwise you are pretty certain you will drop dead here and now.

 “Alastor please, please listen to me” your voice failing, you finally choking from the smoke, from the suppressed tears. If Alastor doesn’t hear you now you are not sure you can carry on after him, you’re too tired too scared. You him to save you like the damsel in distress you are right now so bad.

Alastor dramatically comes to a halt. 

“I. am. Not. Having. This. Conversation. Here.”  his voice is staggered, still. Filled with static and a murderous edge to it. His long arms catch your wrist and pull you close, flush against his chest, you almost stumble but a powerful arm around your waist locks you tight to him. 

It’s the first touch in seven years, your legs shake at the realization that he’s real, he’s here. You lock your arms around his neck, the familiar fabric of his overcoat, the soft strands of his hair, they all feel like coming home.  

Something inside Alastor snaps when he remembers, when he feels how small you are in comparison to him, only one arm securing you safely to him. Some paradoxical fight starts inside him, wild wild want, wild wild rage against tameness, the docile calm you bring whenever you are at his side. 

The world disappears for a few seconds as darkness engulfs both of you,  inside the black moving vacuum only the two of you exist, greeting each other in bloody homecoming. 

Alastor takes you back to the Hotel, landing with a low thump inside his room. For a second his hand supports the small of your back, preventing you from falling forward. After all it’s been 7 years since you shadowtravelled with him, he knows you are terribly out of practice. 

His consideration towards you only lasts this precious second thought, because he makes his way across the room, creating as much distance as he can between the two of you. Your touch disarms him, he is aware of that since the first time your hand brushed against his, the first time his lips ghosted on top of your knuckles. If Alastor is touching you he is extremely likely to get soft, to remember how much you mean to him, what you do to him, so he will be merciful. And right now the last thing the deer demon wants is to be disarmed, to show you mercy. He can feel your betrayal burning inside his veins, clouding his judgment with ire and jealousy.

Alastor doesn’t fight those feelings, on the contrary, he lets them take him by storm adding fuel to his already bad temper. That’s the only way he can face you now, that’s the only way he can make you understand. 

You don’t get any time to gather your bearings, from the corner of your eye you notice a forest. His room is bigger on the inside and has a fucking conservation area but that’s hardly the most pressing matter at the moment. The pressing matter at the moment is that you are getting whiplash from touching your demon lover for the first time in seven years and his subsequent refusal to touch you, stationing himself across the room to you.

Why isn’t he with you? by your side as you ride the shockwaves of today together? You are scared, but above all you feel overwhelming sadness. 

“How did it happen?” he finally snaps, breaking the deafening silence. It’s the first time Alastor regards you, directly, in 7 years and the weight his words bare is so heavy you wish for more of the silence. “Tell me, how did it happen?” his eyes are wild, dangerously close to radio dials. 

“How did it happen? You tell me Alastor! You left me, you fucking left me!” you wish you could be your usually articulated self, you rehearsed this conversation so many times in your mind and in none of them you started with such venom on your lips. But it has been too long, and maybe the poison from all those years alone and afraid beside Vox drips through. 

The Radio Demon sees the tears that fall profusely from your big doe eyes, and they sting more than an acclaimed torturer like him could have anticipated. Alastor finds himself still disarmed, because with every single glistening tear that falls he can see how hurt, how scared you are. He is the only one allowed to make you scared, he owns your fear.

But that’s the problem isn’t it? He owns nothing. Vox does. And that realization turns him back to feeling seething rage. 

“So my mere absence is enough to change your devotion? Is me being here the only thing that stopped you from falling into his arms?” more poison. By the end of the night you both will choke on it. 

“Al.. Al” you are sobbing now, your throat tightens and it’s hard to breath it’s hard to speak. “ I had to do it. You don’t get it, you don’t get it.” your voice breaks “hemademedoit, hemademedoit!!”. You swallow half the words, whimpering, as if you say it fast enough the action will quickly become the past, as if the memories won’t haunt you. And yet the memories flood your mind

A dim-lit room, the smell of blood and something burning.

“He is gone baby, and he isn’t coming back”

Electricity makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. 

A stranger’s hand pushes the hair to the side of your face, dread creeps up inside of you.

“This is the only way my dear, the best decision you can make” 

The same stranger’s hand grab you by the waist 

“I’m the only one who can protect you now, you know that right?”

eyes that make you freeze, it’s hard to think. eyes that make it hard to say no.

“If this is hard for you, you can pretend that I’m him” 

a wrong type of static pricks your lips 

“This won’t hurt” 

a shockwave hits your body and it feels like you are being split open

You have to steady yourself on the closest piece of furniture. You cower as the repressed memories from the night you finally gave in to Vox assault your mind, trying to make yourself as small as possible, like he is coming back to do it all again. Cries and incoherent words leave your lips and you don’t know if you actually said what happened or if this entire time you have just been crying. You entire body hurts as you hyperventilate “Al, I’m so sorry” you whisper 

That’s what undoes Alastor, you curling yourself in a ball, defeated and scared at the ghost of the man he hates. You looking away from him like you are undeserving of him, of his punishment, of his love. Like you are tainted. Alastor can’t make the exact words of your confession about how it happened, but he heard enough. Vox would never make you come to him willingly, Alastor knows that. Whatever Vox did - and Alastor has a lot of ideas of what he did - he will pay double for it. 

 Alastor’s blackened heart shatters when he calls your name and you don’t look up to meet his eyes, like you always do. He was always your lantern for when you were drowning. He meant to break you, hurt you like that. He just wanted to make you come to him, beg for his forgiveness, beg him to soothe the pain. 

“Mon coeur, my sweet darling doe you are safe” Alastor voice goes so soft it hurts “Don’t fret, it’s in the past, it’s over, you are safe with me now as you are meant to be” he coos.

Still, you can’t read your lover’s mind. So you don’t know his heart is shattered, you don’t know how much he loathes himself for letting this get this far. You are so caught up on your own feelings, reeling the rage and the memories that you miss the softness of his voice and his outstretched hard and you inevitably choke on the poison. 

“No. No!” you snap “You don’t get to say that. You have no right to say that!” you scream as you get up “I’m not safe, I will never be safe because you weren’t there to protect me, you promised Alastor, you fucking promised” the poison is now inside you, heartstopping waves of hurt consume your body and sprit. Right now the same burning passion that makes you heart beat for Alastor makes you hate him too. You were never good with ugly feelings, you always pride yourself for being soft to be strong. Your kindness and act of rebellion during the hellish reality you lived. You were never good with bad feelings, so you do something you never thought you’d do.

You shove the Radio Demon, that man you love so much it drives you to insanity. You shove him because the shame is too much, all the ugly feelings ball up inside, convincing you that you don’t deserve him, that you already lost him. And you won’t survive his dismissal. 

You never talked back to him, you never raised your voice. Not because you were afraid to, but because you never had to, hence the reason why Alastor is so taken aback that your pitiful attempt of violence actually moves him from where he was standing. 

Alastor shoves you back, pushing you up against the wall with a searing kiss. He kisses you like you are his last chance at salvation, like he wants to be redeemed. He licks your lips as you struggle to catch your breath, pushing his hips hard against your core, making you straddle him. Alastor doesn’t grant you a moment of reprieve, his lips come crashing down on yours again, his tongue inside your mouth dancing to a madman’s tune. He does what he does best, he takes and takes and takes. He takes your breath away, he takes all the callous words that threaten to leave your lips, aimed at him. 

You succumb to your demon lover, your nails dig into his skin and he moans inside your mouth, he bites your lips enough to draw blood. In the end Alastor is still Alastor, and of course he gets all hot and bothered when fighting. You feel delirious with the taste of his lips, your blood and your salty tears mixing together, an unholy ambrosia. His hardness press just the right way to make you sing creating a current of desire after a seven year long drought. 

His hands are quick, ridding up your shirt making he grab your ass and then your hips, strong enough to bruise. His clawed finger is already tweaking your nipple that way he knows you love. Your bravado melts, in perfect synchrony to when he sinks his teeth deep into your neck, drinking everything: that wretched poison that tarnished your words, the sacred warmth of your blood. You moan his name like a prayer that he promptly answers, he’s kissing you like a drowning man again, your blood on his lips painting your lips red like you both just drank from the holy grail, his hand cups your other breast and you vow to never speak to him like that again, only if it’s gonna get you up against the wall like that with him. 

And then he stops. 

“I hope this kiss haunts you” he says, voice still drunk with desire, low and threatening. He swiftly moves you off him, walking away and creating the same distance from when this all started “haunts your every breath, finds its way inside your every waking moment until you are mad with regret” 

You are bewildered, eyes widening in disbelief. What is he doing? How can he go from 0 to a 100 so fast? 

“I hope this kiss haunts you, so you never forget that you were the only woman who ever had me at the palm of her hand and you decided to throw it all away with that calamitous cynicism of yours.” 

So that’s what’s happening. You can never expect to beat a master at his own game, Alastor is still cruel when he is merciful. When push comes to shove he will always win. There’s only so far you can get with taunting his repentance,  playing with his heart laid bare at your feet, filled with sorrow and begging for forgiveness. He was ready to apologize, to dry your tears and soothe your fears, worshiping your delicious body and the ground you walked on. He was ready to admit that this was half his fault until your venom stung him beyond the realm of spoken word. 

“I understand it now, it must be hard for you to cope with your own decisions, your own failings, so you take it all on me. I hope you remember this when you come back to beg, on your knees for my forgiveness. And trust me, you will.” Of course Alastor would torture you with the knowlodge of his guilt and despair, the loss of his benevolence, the promise of desire and carnality. He will always be a torturer at heart, and you forgot that’s the first rule you need to always remember when dealing with him. 

“You’ve got your demons darling” never was your precious pet name said with such disdain. Static starts to gather around you, and in a flash his hand is on your neck

“and they all, Look. Like. Me” his voice is distorted when he finishes cursing you, there’s a tempest behind his eyes that entraps you, the burning red of his irises condemn you. 

The Radio demon is a raging fire, an oncoming storm. But he is also meticulous, cruel and calculating, if you dared to question him, to step on the grace he gladly gave you, you clearly were aware of everything he did to lull his absence. All the plans and contingencies he made to hush your worrying thoughts about him and bathe your threshing heart on tranquiline waters.

And you decided to mock it. To mock him and his love for you. 

You are crying again, but this time Alastor is fucking glad he was the one to hurt you, to reduce you to a mess of regret and tears. 

Tonight in Hell, power shifts from one Overlord to another. Sinners plan and freak out accordingly.

 But their machinations are all meaningless. 

The 7 years you spent away from Alastor made you sad, the three years spent on Vox’s side made you bitter. The V’s operate on poison, it’s their fuel. And maybe the poison drips through.

Tonight you drank the poison and it broke you.

Tonight, for the first time, the poison broke Alastor too.

[canadiannationalfox]

Murder Drones Fanfic - Bedtime Story - A Jessa Fanfic

It was sadly one of those nights again, where Tessa was chained up in her room. She had been caught sneaking out to the cemetery when she should've been with her tutor writing essays.

The Elliott heiress sighed as she flopped back first onto her bed. "At this point, I may as well go to bed, I won't be let out until dawn."

J, who was also chained up because she had been with Tessa, rolled her LED eyes slightly, "Tessa, you're an insomniac, you will struggle to fall asleep for an hour." She sat side saddle on Tessa's old rocking horse and stated, "We need to pass the time until you're tired," she crossed her arms in annoyance as she said, "I WOULD brush your hair, but the chains won't let us get near your vanity desk."

The ebony haired girl pulled her knees closer to her chest, she huffed sorrowfully and fidgeted with one of the bows on her plaits. "Hah, just like a fairytale, huh? A girl, locked away... waiting for the dawn..." she sighed sorrowfully.

The pigtailed drone got an idea, she smiled as she offered somewhat cheerfully, "I mean, I know you're a bit old for it, but, I could tell you a bed time story."

Tessa sat up, looking over to J, a small smile appeared where once a frown was. She suggested eagerly, "Could you tell one from memory? Instead of from a book, Jaybird?"

The pigtailed drone slightly puffed her chest out proudly as she insisted, "Definitely, but... maybe we could stick to one I know. I'm not as good at writing as you're getting to be," She hopped off the rocking horse and came and sat by Tessa. "Maybe you'd want to hear Rapunzel retold? Maybe Little Red Ridinghood, or Alice in Wonder-?" the maid drone was stopped by the bubbly eager voice of her favourite human girl.

"DRACULA!" the 14 year old girl exclaimed, her greyish hued eyes sparkling with enthusiam

"Here we go again with the vampire stuff," J thought to herself, smiling at how cute Tessa was being. She lightly pinched the girl's cheek, "You know Dracula doesn't have a happy ending, you're just being weird."

Tessa pouted playfully, "Well then make it a happy story! I wanna hear about vampires!"

J side hugged Tessa and laughed, "Alright, alright, but only because I like you so much," she ruffled Tessa's hair and teased, "You and your vampires!" She asked quickly before she began to spin the tale, "Would you like to be in this story too?"

"YES! Entirely! It would be so fun!" Tessa giggled excitedly, she hugged J back and pleaded, "Please, Jaybird?"

The pretty little maid began happily, "Once upon a time, on a stormy night, a little lady named Tessa was lost in the forest. She had been running to get out of a horrendous down pour, and there was no where to seek refuge, all except the large gothic castle in the heart of the forest."

Tessa stopped her drone and asked, "Oh, oh! Can you be the vampire?"

"Tessaaaaa, Dracula's a boy vampire," J groaned in some annoyance.

Tessa looked sadly at J and pleaded in her precious little Aussie voice, "What if Dracula was a lady this time?" she leaned on J's shoulder and responded, "Plus you're so pretty... you'd make a nice vampire..."

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

A woman with golden eyes answered the knocks at the castle's door, her long silver hair hung around her like a cloak accenting her red and black velvet evening dress. "What is it that you want?" the Countess ordered sharply as she looked down upon the cloaked girl.

"P-please your majesty, I need to seek refuge," the girl pleaded, she was drenched like a drowned cat.

The countess looked upon the pitiful soul and responded sternly, "You may stay the night..."

The girl clad in a black cloak took off the hood of her cloak once she was through the doorway, slighting wringing the rain water from her braids.

The alabaster skinned woman asked in bemusement, "Were you raised in a barn, dear girl?"

"N-no madame," the shorter woman responded, ceasing her daftness, "I was sent by the aristocrats to find the deceased in the woods," she curtsied gently, "I'm the daughter of the undertaker."

The Countess waved off the comment, taking up a candelabra before she beckoned, "Follow me, dear girl."

The two walked through the entrance hallway, headed past a corridor of stained glass windows and paintings, made their way up part of the grand staircase, and then down another hall.

The girl winced in pain as she remembered the bruise on her wrist. She rubbed where she was injured, stopping her venture with the lady of the castle.

The woman turned around, wondering where the second set of footsteps had stopped at. She approached the girl, holding out her hand before coarsely demanding, "Show me your injury."

The girl hesitated the commands, asking instead, "Does it get lonely here?" her grey eyes twinkling in the candle light.

The silver-haired lady huffed in annoyance, commanding with her eyes and demanding with her voice, "Show me your injuries."

As if she had felt she had no choice, the freckled girl showed her wrist to the elegant woman. "I... had a small accident," she admitted politely, not wanting to mention more, feeling the stronger woman take a hold of her wrist firmly and yet gently.

The bruise was far worse than any the woman had seen for quite sometime. "I see... well, Miss...." she began but stopped.

The shorter lass curtsied before the reclusive woman and greeted politely, "I am Tessa of Elliott, and what is your name?"

"Countess Jacquelline Dracula, you may call me Lady Jacquelline for short," she stated coldly, looking away from the girl, "Miss Tessa, I will get you some poppy seed tea to assist in relieving your pain,"

"Th-thank you, Lady Jacquelline," the ebony haired lass responded as Jacquelline let go of her wrist. She pried again, this time, making her voice a lot softer, "I'm still wondering if you are lonely ever, it doesn't seem like there's anyone else here."

"Miss Elliott, I am not lonely," the woman growled, "Now follow me to your sleeping quarters."

The ebony haired girl sat at a cathedral style window, the curtains open letting in the moonlight now that the storm had cleared. Sitting in a spare dress that the Countess had given her. It was a pale teal dress with corset ribbons of black, she faced the window, using some charcoals she had found on some paper. A knocking at the door stopped the girl's sketching while stargazing.

"Your tea, Miss Elliott," the Countess coldly greeted as she set down the tea cup and was about to leave.

"Please wait," Tessa replied, turning around to see the one who gave her refuge, "You can stay here..."

The Countess was annoyed and yet, she wanted to stay for some reason. She sat in a chair across from the girl whom she saw as annoying, she crossed her arms and scolded, "Whatever is it now, young lady?"

The girl rubbed one of her still-damp braids shyly with one hand and handed a piece of paper to the silver-haired woman. "I... I made this for you,"

Jacquelline's scowl softened. "This... this is pretty good," the elegant woman remarked as she accepted the piece of artwork, admiring the handiwork.

"You're the only person I've drawn who was alive,"

The Countess responded not able to lie, "There's always a first for everything," her smile widening a little. She picked back up the cup of tea and handed it to the woman and asked inquisitively, "You're already a young woman, why haven't you found yourself a fellow?"

Miss Tessa was taken aback as she accepted the cup of tea and heard the softened question. "I am to be wed, however, I do not wish to be... all the suitors are horrendous." She sipped from the tea and smiled at the flavour, the added cream and sugar making the tea just perfect. "I ran away, I don't even want children,"

Jacquelline knew this feeling all too well, she remembered a time when she was forced to love, and how tragically it had changed her life. She only had the castle for that reason. She responded gently, "I understand, romance isn't always the best option," she placed her hand upon the young woman's back.

Miss Tessa finally drew in the scent of lavenders and copper off of the woman, feeling almost intoxicated by the aroma, and feeling a sense of want, but she flinched at the cold hands of the Countess.

"You're probably cold, darling girl," Jacquelline coaxed playfully, hoping to get a clearer look at the girl and her neck, she sighed, knowing she'd have to get more hands-on.

Tessa jumped in slight surprise as she felt the ribbons at the end of her braids become untied, and a gentle feeling of someone wringing water out of her waves. "O-Oh, you don't have to do that, i-it's alright," she reassured with a slight stammer as she set down her tea.

"Dear, you're going to catch pneumonia, I'm doing you a favour." She held a section out of the way, seeing the girl's neck, dotted with freckles. She held herself back from taking a bite.

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

"Awwww, why didn't she bite yet, Jaybird?"

J winked to her favourite human, teasing happily, "Don't you want the story to be longer?"

"Okay, okay... so you... err... Jackie didn't bite yet, so then what happened?" Tessa teased happily before letting J resume the story.

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

Miss Tessa slept peacefully, the moonlight shining on her, unaware of the woman who stood as tall as an obelisk in the corner of the room.

"I should bite her, I should drink her succulent blood," Jacquelline reasoned with herself, baring her fangs, however, she was feeling empathy for the girl. She walked over to the sleeping girl and sat by her side. She played with a ribbon on Miss Elliott's dress, sighing softly. "She's so adorable when she sleeps," the vampire woman assessed lovingly. She got up and closed the blinds, the sun would be rising in a couple hours and if she was still in the room it would hurt her.

When day came the ebony haired lass awoke to a sweet scent. She arose from bed, and was about to go to the window to let in the daylight, when she turned to see the Countess was already there, standing with a mahogany carved tray in her hands.

"I brought you breakfast," she hesitantly greeted, she wanted to keep up the cold demeanour, not wanting to let the young lady know she was softening to her presence.

Miss Tessa stopped herself, looked over to the offering, and sat back down on the bed. Pasca loaf with cherries and strawberries and more poppy seed tea. She accepted a piece of the sweet bread before taking a bite, but as soon as she did, she decided to eat it as quickly as possible.

"Easy there, easy there," Jacquelline instructed in worry, "You'll give yourself a stomach ache!"

The ebony haired girl looked up like a startled doe. "I... I haven't been fed this well in weeks... I'm ever so sorry, your majesty, I forgot..."

Jacquelline sat beside Tessa, she soothed caringly, "No, it's not about manners, dear... Are you alright. I'm starting to think your family was treating you worse than a donkey."

Tessa's grey eyes filled with tears, she hid her face with her hair, she was ashamed. The silver haired vampire leaned close to hold the lovely living girl, studying her a little closer. "Goodness, let's get you taken care of then." She waited for Tessa to look away bashfully to make more bread appear on her plate.

Tessa looked down in surprise. "Oh... more for me?"

Jacquelline soothed gently, tucking some hair behind the woman's ear, "Yes, more for you, I can't have my guest starving."

"But... shouldn't I go?"

The vampiric woman used her hypnotic stare to insist gently, "You will stay as long as you'd like, you don't have to go anywhere.."

The ebony haired lady leaned into Jacquelline's touch, she felt safer than she had for years and years.

"After breakfast I'll draw you a bath, we'll get you all cleaned up, and then I can show you around, alright?"

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

"Jaybiiiiiird, you shouldn't have mentioned food, I'm so hungry now," Tessa groaned as her stomach grumbled.

J was about to say something when suddenly someone unlocked the room. "Da da dan na! N is here!" he trilled happily as he brought Tessa a bowl of cherries, kiwis and strawberries. "Way to steal my thunder, Bozo..." J stated.

"Thank you, N, but... can you go?" Tessa said in an apologetic tone, "J's telling me a story."

N nodded and headed out of the room, closing the door but not locking it. Tessa started snacking on the fruit as J resumed the story

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

Jacquelline Dracula once again had a chance to bite the neck of Miss Tessa. She sat on the bed once more, sitting behind the darling girl with the dark hair, brushing out the neglect knots with gentleness and love. "Comfortable?" she asked as she coaxed the brush through some tangles carefully.

"I don't think anyone's ever had so much care for me,"

The vampire leaned closer, she was inches from Tessa's neck, she could bite her right then and there, and yet, she didn't want to. She instead kissed the back of the girl's neck, softly whispering, "Well, it's a shame, a pretty lady like you should be treated right."

The freckly young lady jumped slightly at the feeling of the kiss. "D-do you think I deserve better?" she asked, her heart racing.

The Countess Dracula soothed lovingly, "Of course. If you'd want, you could stay with me.. Forever." Her hand tracing Tessa's neck gently.

Tessa started to cry, her chest rising and falling with every sob. "They need me back, Countess, I.... I'm expected back at the church this morning..."

Jacquelline held her prized darling closer, the vampire running her sharp fangs across the side of the girl's neck before she asked, "All I have to do is give you one little neck kiss.... And you will be free."

The adorable ebony haired woman realized what this was. The proof was all there, she was in a castle with only one lone woman, whose beauty was unsurpassable and knew herbal medicine and avoided the sun.

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

Tessa giggled excitedly as she added to the story, "You're a vampire!"

J did a silly Dracula impression, "I am! And I'm going to suck your blood, Miss Tessa!" The Maid Drone with the silky silver pigtails pounced, pretended to bite Tessa's shoulder, she didn't bite, but she made sounds like a growly dog.

Tessa squirmed and giggled happily. "Oh no! I'll live forever now!" she teased, which made the usually very stoic maid drone start laughing too. The two hugged and said in unison once they controlled their laughter, "And they both lived happily ever after."

Tessa stretched and yawned. "Thank you for the story, Jaybird..." she sleepily whispered as she got under the blankets. "Sleep well, Tessa, have lots of wonderful dreams of being a little vampire with me." She cuddled up to her favourite human and the two fell asleep.

The End

[hongjoongscafe]

Bloody Love...

Chapter: I -Eyes-

♠︎Pairing: yandere!king!jungkookxoc(coronis)

♠︎Genre: angst, smut, yandere, gore, dark romance, horror, creepy (dark fantasy).

♠︎Summary: "you happen to be in a world where wrong is right and right is wrong."

♠︎Word count: 2.1k+

♠︎Warning: physical abuse, dead animal, non-consensual touching, murder, stalking, nudity.

♠︎Note: lemme know if you wanna be added to the permanent or specific taglist!

♠︎Masterpost

♠︎Serieslist

Far away from the mellow kingdoms, was the realm of Jeon. From far away, the gloomy, blue-grey sky was evident. No one from other kingdoms even dared to look towards that domain.

It reeked of sins. From far away, one could hear the screams of the commoners. No one dared to even think about following the path after the sun dimmed down. But the thing was that the kingdom was miles and miles away. It took almost three days to travel from the nearest kingdom to Jeon’s realm by horse. That single fact sent chills down others’ spines. Even from that far away, they could hear the wrong happenings.

The skies above his realm looked dull, blue-grey. The clouds of madness always covered the sky. It was all hunted. The King haunted the realm. His bureaucrats danced with the movements of his fingers. They were his puppets and he was the puppet master.

No one has ever seen his face other than those who worked in his castle. The commoners always heard that sometimes, the King himself would come patrolling but all of his warriors wore heavy masks. Dressed in black cloaks hiding half of their face. The lower half would be covered with black cloth. Metal chains dangling from the big wide metal ferronnière.

They rode their dark horses. Whenever they passed by, the zone would become quiet, eerily quiet. No one in their right mind would raise their head to look at them and go against them. The fear among those peasants was his majesty's pride. He loved the look of fear, the way their eyes trembled, and mouths mumbled for forgiveness even though they did nothing wrong.

This was just one per cent of his wickedness. The dirty secrets remained in his realm but his dirty secrets remained in his castle.

The castle.

It was far away from the region where commoners lived. Everything that came in the way of the castle was creepy. The mist always covered the path. They say that this mist was the souls of those who died there. And there were many… mounds of them. And most of them didn’t die naturally.

It was as if dark mist spiralled over the realm.

“Coronis! Bring back the calf! Draco has to go to get meat from the Henrys,” Coronis’ mother asked from the kitchenette.

“In a moment!” Coronis looked at her reflection through the water in a wooden bucket. Her hair was black, her pretty eyes were painted with Kohl. Her lips were chapped but the tint from the beetroot she patted a while ago was making her lips look luscious. And the natural tint on her cheeks.

She was known to be beautiful in the village. Men felt honoured even if she breathed in their path. Though she didn’t come out of her shack as much. She lived there with her parents, Draco and Martha, an older brother named Onyx, and a younger sister of eight years, Circe. She herself was eighteen soon to turn nineteen.

After being satisfied with her looks, she hummed and went inside and picked up the rope and took a sharp knife with her. Letting her mother know, she stepped out to get her calf back.

Knife.

She wasn't going to kill anyone. Unless.

The chilly air threaded through her hair and her white gown fluttered along the wind.

On her way to the meadows, she saw a man beating a woman, most likely his wife, with a whip. Her face was red and blue from the punches she had received. But no one paid any attention to them.

A little further, she saw a dead pig on the side of the path, and an old man was slicing it open. Coronis scrunched her eyebrows and looked away. It was common to see these heartless humans doing bloody shit.

This realm moved with the saying ‘You live until you survive.’

Near the meadows, she saw a girl being touched by much older men, probably without her wish. Her cheeks were soaking from tears. Her delicate hands were trying to push away the men but her hands were delicate and those men were dedicated.

Reaching the meadows, she made it quick to find the calf. Seeing her stamp on the calf, she tied the rope around its neck and pulled it to follow her back to their shack.

There were stamps embroidered on every cattle. It was to mark them as their property. The one's without the stamp were usually killed for food, leather, and jewellery. The animals that were bred to be killed were reserved only for the castle. The men would come on their horses and would fill up their carriers with goods and take them to the castle.

As Coronis was returning, the sound of horses’ clops started coming closer along with their neigh. She knew better and pulled her calf to the corner of the path and kept walking. The horses started passing her. The village quieted down. Only the horses and their riders could be heard.

The path was broken and uneven, and small and big rocks were peeking out of the ground. A man stumbled and fell in front of a horse that was coming from the opposite direction, making it stop. The man got off the horse and picked up that old man with one hand and made him stand again.

“How dare you stumble our way!” He yelled. “Do you not see who is crossing?!”

The old man fell on his knees and held the feet of the patrolman. “I-I-I st-stumbled a-and fell, master! P-please, for-forgive me!”

The patrol man’s chuckle could be heard. He pulled out his sword and made a quick job and sliced his head off.

To Coronis’ bad luck, the head fell just in front of her feet. His bony face was ugly. His teeth were rotting and his beard was dirty. The blood was pouring from where his neck was supposed to be. She looked up at the man who was now getting back on his horse.

But her eyes fell on the man behind him. His eyes were boring holes into her skull. They all wore black cloth from the nose and down, and their foreheads had metal ferronnière but his was heavier and had sharp, long spikes pointing out. The chains were dangling down and were attached to his mask, decorating his face. He wore heavy chains around his neck. His horse was different from others.

She knew he was not any other guard man. He was different. He held power. To what strength, she wasn't aware of that. The higher-ups kept themselves hidden away from the eyes of the commoners.

Coronis didn’t look away from his eyes. They looked into each other’s eyes. Her eyebrows were frowned up. Her face was covered in disgust.

Slowly, they passed by. But that one man remained behind and passed even slowly all while looking into her eyes without blinking. Just like her, he too had kohl painted around his eyes.

She looked at him up and down, his fingers had heavy jewellery and metal nails attached to them. His cloak covered his head. (Lower left picture in the mood board).

His eyes held darkness. The darkness in his eyes was darker than the whole realm and the night itself. He screamed menace. After what felt like a long moment, he passed by and kept moving while she looked at his back.

It all happened slowly. The picture was stuck in her head. It sent chills through her spine. She wished to never cross her path with him. Ever again.

Turning back around, she inhaled sharply seeing that head still laying there. She kicked it away and kept walking.

The moment she opened the door to her shack, her mother's voice rang, “Those men passed by! Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“I'm alright,” she said and went inside the slot that she shared with her sister. “Where is Circe?!” she asked.

“She was in the slot!” her mother said.

“Circe!” Coronis called and went outside. “Circe!” the younger girl turned around and looked at her older sister. “Go back inside! How many times do I need to tell you not to go outside without any of us by your side?” She held her arm and dragged her inside. “And the escorts are marching outside! Do you know how dangerous it is?”

“I'm sorry! I wanted to wander around for a moment. It has been days since I last saw the outside world!” Circe huffed.

“Outside world?! Do you know how bad it is?!” she held her head out of frustration. “Ugh, you will realize one day.”

Coronis was about to turn around when she saw someone outside the window but with a blink of her eye, it was gone. She shook her head and exhaled.

Maybe she was tired.

…

“Here is your liquor, majesty,” one of the guards bowed as he presented the drink to the king.

The King took the glass. He removed his mask from below and drank it all in one inhale and threw the glass away. “Lord, that is Danny's workshop. He still hasn't paid us the tariff. He is behind by one day and owes ten stones.”

The King smirked under his mask and nodded. He turned his horse and proceeded towards his castle. “You know what to do.”

His eyes moved towards a house where that lady with calf went. He smirked and moved ahead. “You too will realize…”

…

The whispers woke Coronis up. She rubbed her eyes and sat up. She looked around and saw her sister still sleeping.

It was typical to hear people crying, screaming, or talking outside. But these whispers were eerily low and were coming for one side. She knew exactly what was wrong.

She stood up and walked outside. The people were surrounded by the tall wooden bar that had an arrow above it, there lay a man who was known as Denny. His wife was tied to the pole, naked, and abused. Dead.

Coronis looked at their shack… Burnt.

“Go inside,” Draco asked his older daughter.

“Two hundred and sixty-seventh,” she looked at her father. “This year. On this pole. In only five months,” she remained and counted them too.

“Try to not be the next one,” he said and took her back inside.

“What is going on?” Circe asked.

“Nothing,” Onyx said. “Stay inside.”

“They are doing this more often. They were only a day late in paying the tariff. Just yesterday, when I went to Denny's Housewife for a new knife, she said they would pay the tariff today. Poor them,” Martha sighed and placed the salad on the table with a teapot filled with brewed tea. “Have it.”

Everyone sat around the table and ate their meal. “I'm going to the east,” Onyx said. “They asked me to bring a new supply of opium.”

“When will you be back?” Draco asked.

“Soon.”

…

After an early meal, Coronis helped Onyx with packing. Later she went to her slot and took out clothes for her to wear and stepped outside to take a bath. The wooden buckets were already filled with water that they brought from the well every day.

After getting rid of her clothes, she used soap and washed herself up. All the while she felt someone staring at her. She looked around but saw nothing. But then her eyes fell on the tree in front of her. It was dense. One could easily hide inside it. There she saw a pair of eyes looking right into hers. She gasped and stumbled back. She quickly picked up the drying cloth to cover herself and ran back inside.

Her breath was huffing. She slid down the door and tried to control her breath. Her eyes fell on the fresh clothes that she took and wore quickly and waddled into the kitchenette. “Do not bathe outside,” she gritted. “There is someone up in the tree.”

Martha looked at Coronis with wide eyes. And then at Cirice who was already looking haunted. Then nodded her head. “Are you alright?”

Coronis shut her eyes tightly and let out a sigh. “No,” she whispered. “Just don't go outside.”

She was afraid. This never happened with her. There were times when she needed to attack people just to come back home with her dignity still intact but this was so much worse. She was even afraid to look outside.

But being protective over her family, she looked outside through the window to see if the man went away or not. There was no one on the tree. She looked around and checked everywhere in her sight but no one.

She turned around but stopped. Turning back she looked at the place where she had left her dirty clothes… all were gone. Even the underclothing.

“Don’t look out. Put that cloth on the window and come back,” her mother said. “Betty's mother has some vegetables left after the sale, I'll get them and come back as soon as possible. Please, look after yourself and Circe,” she opened a drawer and took out a butcher's knife. “Keep this with you,” she whispered and took the smaller knife with her.

.....

Sanaa’s note:

The chapters will get bigger I think? There are so many details I wanna include. Hope you liked this part! Lemme know your thoughts on this one. Feedback really helps me and motivates me to write more. Take care!

The behaviour of all the characters is visualized.

Taglist:

@veneziamadness @cheline @sansmilkbread @jayb17 @constantlydelulusional @8tinytings @tea4sykes; @darkuni63 @mageprincess7

Have a nice day/night💓

[anama-cara]

Bargaining

dark!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Bargaining Masterlist

Summary: You try to bargain your virginity for your family’s safety. Word count: 1.8k

Warnings for full fic: 18 + mdni , Dubious consent, virginity loss, unsafe p in v, mentions of STDs, pet names, dark, age gap, survivalism, I do Not condone this. Reader is in her early 20’s, Joel is in his 40’s. Reader’s inner thoughts are in italics. This is my first fic, please give feedback.

“Wait. I can give you something else. My virginity.”

He raises an eyebrow.

---

Joel Miller, the infamous raider, stands before you. He and his band of men control these parts, and they provide “protection” from clickers and other raiders in exchange for a monthly payment. Your household (its just you and your younger brother) usually give them a large basket full of vegetables. But this month something, maybe a gopher or a deer, tore up your garden, eating everything. You had nothing else to give. When Joel’s men had broken down your door you begged them, told them you’d give them double next month. They threatened to take your brother instead, put him to work. And then Joel strode through the front door, filing the doorway with his large form. He wore a red flannel, thick tan leather jacket, heavy boots and tight jeans with his knee cocked out and his hands on his hips.

“What’s taking so long in here? There trouble?” He asked his men. They nodded to you and Joel’s gaze shifted to you. An intense gaze, one that made your knees weak and your chin tremble. You swallowed and pulled yourself together.

“I’m sorry, an animal destroyed our crops. We can forage and plant again. I promise next month we will pay double.”

He shook his head sadly and your stomach dropped.

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t go around making exceptions, even for someone as pretty as you.”

One of his men stepped forward and made to grab your brother’s arm. Pretty? Maybe there was another way.

“Wait. I am still a virgin. I’m unused. I have no diseases, which is good because out here if you get sick you could die,” you ramble, shifting your weight from foot to foot.

“I’m clean. I’ve never been touched by a man. And I wouldn’t just be giving you sex, or safe sex, or my virginity, I’d be giving you a piece of me, my dignity, my identity, my soul.”

He grins wickedly at that so you plow ahead. He likes to have power, you can read it in his face, so you use it to your advantage.

“I’d be yours, claimed, forever marked by you, by my first time. Yours to ruin. Yours to torment, yours to degrade, yours to fuck, yours to fill. You can stretch me out and when your cum is dripping down my thighs and I am reduced to a sweating, sobbing, shaking mess on the floor - striped of my dignity and humanity, then you can proudly sit back and see your power. How you’ve ruined someone, claimed them, destroyed them, owned them.”

Damn you’re really trying to sell this. He has to take bait, you can’t let them take your brother.

You have his undivided attention, his eyes never left yours throughout your whole monologue. He seems surprised and a little impressed by your unexpected language. Now that you’ve said your piece, finished begging, he breaks eye contact. He shamelessly looks you up and down like he’s inspecting a horse to buy. He says nothing but gives one curt nod.

You loosen a sigh of relief. Your brother would be safe. You turned to face him, you had been standing a step in front of him, protecting him with your body. You knelt down and put a hand on his check. “Go upstairs, and don’t come down till I tell you. Okay?” You tell him softly. He nods silently and heads for the staircase in the corner of the room. You straighten up and turn to face Joel again. There’s something on his face, almost like a sad understanding as he watches your brother leave.

“Alright sweetheart, where do you wanna do this?” He asks gruffly in his thick Texan accent.

Oh god this is really happening.

“N-not upstairs.” Is all you manage to get out. Your mind seems to be going blank with the anxiety and shock of what’s about to happen. When you don’t move or say anything else he just nods and grabs your hand, pulling you from the main room where all his men remain, rifling through your things. He pulls you through a door and into the kitchen. He closes the door and pushes a chair underneath the doorknob, jamming it.

“Don’t want anyone interrupting us.” He smirks at your widened eyes. “You know sweetheart, you sure do have a filthy mouth. Saying all those things.” He’s shaking his head. He finally lets go of your hand to take a step back and look you over again greedily. Nothing soft remains in his eyes now. No, the only thing you see is a predator. His hungry eyes devour you. All the warning bells are going off in your head, every instinct telling you to kick him in the crotch and run. But you know you can’t, because although you know you could probably outrun this big guy, there are too many of them, and your brother is upstairs. So, you take a deep breath, loosen your fists and accept you fate. He notices the little movement. He notices everything.

“Ready sweetheart?”

You give a small nod, still unable to speak. You’re afraid of how small your voice will sound. You will not appear weak in front of him. You hold your chin higher and meet his stare.

The corner of his lips pull up in a wicked grin. “Good.”

And then he moves, and he’s so fast you don’t even know what’s happening until you’re pushed up against the kitchen island. With a broad hand he pushes you down and pins you between your shoulder blades. He’s got you bent over face down on the counter. Your breasts are pressed against the cold granite and your nipples harden against it. He presses into you from behind and you can feel his considerable bulge. With one boot he hooks your foot and slides it out, spreading your legs further for him. You hear the metal clanging as he undoes his belt and lowers his zipper. You don’t turn to look. There’s no need, you know he'll be big. With his cock freed he closes the gap between you, leaning further into you.

Shit. This will be painful.

He's even larger than you thought. You feel his hard cock behind you, pressing against your ass and the small of your back. His head tilts and you feel his hot breath on the curve of your neck. His lips glide over your shoulder. “So soft.” He inhales deeply, smelling your hair. “Mmmm.” With one hand he reaches up and grabs at your breast roughly. He can feel your hardened nipple through the thin fabric of the dress. He lets out a low growl and gropes you harder. You can feel his breathing getting faster. He reaches back down to pull your dress up above your ass. It bunches around you hips.

“Hold this sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear. You obey, grabbing the bunched up fabric with one hand and bracing yourself on the counter with the other. He pulls back, and pulls your underwear down to your ankles. One hand moves to your hip, keeping you in place. With his other hand wrapped around the base of his cock he notches at your entrances and pushes in half way. White hot pain flashes through you. He’s so big and your body was not prepared for him. He pulls out almost all the way and pushes in again, all the way, hips snapping. Searing pain, he is splitting your insides apart. You hiss in pain.

“Sorry sweetheart, didn’t say this was gonna be nice for you. Remember this is your payment. Take it.”

He chuckles darkly and slams into you again. You shake your head.

No, no no no, it’s too much.

You can’t breathe. You feel a trickle of blood run down the inside of your thigh. Your hips dig into the countertop and you know there with be a line of bruising left on your skin. You’ll have bruising on the side of your hips too, his fingers are griping you so tightly.

“That’s a good little virgin. So fucking tight. Relax sweetheart. Don’t fight it.” He grunts. “I know your pussy will want it anyways.”

He sets up a rapid pace, slamming into you roughly with each thrust. It’s dry and painful and you hate it. Hate him. But after a few minutes when your body has adjusted you begin to loosen a bit. You still hate Joel, hate this man who runs these lands like he owns them. But you can’t deny that your body has stopped protesting. So you try to drown out the obscene sounds of skin slapping and his grunting behind you. You let your mind travel far away and forget that it is Joel behind you.

You’re not sure how much time has passed, but you feel a change behind you, the hot breaths on your shoulder blades are uneven and the pace is different, slower and deeper. He lets out a pained moan then pulls out of you, there’s a seconds pause then you feel hot liquid spill over you. It hits the small of your back in ropes and drips onto your ass. He sighs deeply from behind you. You finally turn to look at him. He’s staring your body, satisfaction on his face as he watches his cum drip down you. You whip your head back around before he can catch your eye.

There’s silence as he watches you and catches his breath. Finally, he reaches down and pulls your underwear back up. He takes the dress out of your grip and tugs it down. He runs his hands over your waist and ass, smoothing the fabric and feeling you up. One rests at the small of your back and presses the dress into the wetness there, letting to fabric soak it up and stick to you. He grins.

“Alright sweetheart.”

 He gives your ass a smack then lets go of you. You push up and raise yourself off from the counter, resting on your elbows. He says nothing else as he moves to the door, unwedges the chair and opens the door. He looks back at you. You’re still leaning against the counter for support. He eyes your shaking legs, your ruffed up hair, your wrinkled wet dress. “See you next month.”

You’re in shock. That’s it? You don’t move as he leaves and whistles for his men to follow. You don’t move till you hear the front door slam behind them. Then you sink to the kitchen floor.

You don’t understand, Joel is infamous for being violent and cruel. You know that could have been much worse, that he could have beat you, that he could have passed you around to his men afterwards. But he just left. Suddenly you feel grateful. Then you silently curse yourself for it, reminding yourself that even though it could have been worse it was horrible that it ever happened in the first place. That someone threatened your family, that they took something from you. That they acted like they owned the place. You grit your teeth. No, the only thing you’re grateful for is the fact that it’s over. You stand on your shaky legs and reach for a kitchen towel. You call out for your brother, letting him know that they’re gone and he’s safe. You clean yourself up and you hear his little feet running down the stairs. He bursts into the room and flies at you in a hug. “Your big sis took care of it. I’ll always protect you remember. It’s okay. It’s over.” You pat his back and comfort him.

See you next month.

[sorcerous-caress]

Worldbuilding and human kink? Is it my birthday /lh. This has me googling “halfling sex” and being a little surprise someone has thought about it enough to write a generously large paragraph.

Apparently it’s not uncommon for them to have more casual sex with close neighbors and friends indulging in it together. I genuinely think it would be hilarious for a halfling with a human, elf, drow, orc, dwarf, etc (the more uptight races) friend/neighbor to ‘seduce’ and then being very friendly and kind, but not exclusive or even inherently romantic.

Halflings 🤝 Humans

Being horny on main.

Oh my god imagine a poly relationship that's a human who thinks this is a casual friends with benfits deal, a halfing who thinks everyone here is just friends, and one high elf who acts as if they're robbing a bank whenever they watch the human go down on the halfing.

Add a dragonborn who is sweating over which one of those people is gonna end up as their mate for life, who isn't phased by the sex but it's the romance part that's considered a big taboo in their culture to even date someone for love, so imagine seeing more tha one person?

High elves being sex repressed 🤝 Dragonborns being romance repressed

Also I really love world building AAAAA i wanna invent shit and make shit up and shake it around like a snow globe. I believe elves went to the moon much sooner than humans with just magic, dwarves have found fallen space rocks and meteors and used them to forge their weapons, winged elves or any species who can fly already mapped the world and drew all the know maps before humans even learned how to tame horses.

Also the horses is funny, elves has seen them all their lives but never bothered to tame it because it feels weird yk? Why would they ride on an animal, plus their cousin is a centaur so it feels even more weird.

Then they see the humans coaxing the horses with carrots while holding a saddle behind their back, skip a few years and suddenly the horse population skyrockects as humans steal this one animal to their side.

Imagine being a wood elf and in harmony with all of nature, then glancing over at the human city and feeling very confused on what these weird wolves are and why do the humans call them dogs, also why are they obeying the humans and holy shit that one is wearing bowtie.

Occasionally humans just wander into the forest, spot an animal that seems semi useful then kidnap it back to their city, suddenly their population spikes and they're the new best friends of humanity.

It happened the other way with cats tho, the wood elves remember overhearing two cats talking about the hairless apes wandering around and how one was betting the other that they can get them to share their food by just screaming at them.

Humans probably inspired their cuisine based on halflings' recipes since they didn't add soul consuming spices for fun like elves and didn't sprinkle in literal gem and gold dust like dragonborns.

A human with a Halfling neighbour who comes over every other day to share their stew because "they accidentally made too much and can't possibly finish it all themselves so how about you grab a bowl or two, human?"

One day the human makes a joke about how they're a simp or going to horny jail, whatever modern shitposting meme is trending, and the halfling takes it seriously and offers to sleep with them.

I mean, that is basic neighbourly hospitality to them. Of course they will fuck their friend who is in need, you don't even have to ask twice, come here and lay down and they'll take care of you until satisfied.

Now their trips over to your house are twice as frequent, half to feed you their cooking, other half to sate your lust appetite.

[ask-the-6-souls]

Welcome to Ask the 6 Souls!

Read from the beginning here!

This is an Undertale askblog for the 6 humans the monsters had collected- the ones who fell down before the events of the canon game. There will be spoilers for both Undertale and Undertale Yellow, so if you haven't experienced either game to completion at least once, go do that first!

Content warnings: - Talk of child murder, may or may not be visualized (but not gratuitously or for the hell of it. Will not be overly bloody/gory.) - Potential discussion of genocide - Talk of death, murder - Racism (directed at monsters, not other humans)

I'll add more as I think of it or as it becomes relevant

There's also a Discord server now! Not exclusively for this AU, though- it's a general Undertale/Deltarune/UTMV server! Come say hi!

Join the 6 Souls Vault!

More info about the AU, including ask rules, under the cut. Thanks for stopping by!

Our Main 6 Characters

The Yellow Soul 🤠 - The soul of Justice! - It's Clover! They've just arrived! - Based on the True Pacifist run from UTY - Character tag: #chr sharpshooter

The Green Soul 🍳 - The soul of Kindness! - They have forgotten their name - One of the oldest in the group - Character tag: #chr frying pan

The Purple Soul 📓 - The soul of Perseverance! - They have forgotten their name - One of the youngest in the group - Knew a horse named Hayden...? - Character tag: #chr notebook

The Blue Soul 🩰 - The soul of Integrity! - [REDACTED] - Holds a very negative opinion of monsterkind - Character tag: #chr tutu

The Orange Soul 🥊 - The soul of Bravery! - They have forgotten their name - They came to the Underground on purpose...? - Character tag: #chr tough glove

The Cyan Soul 🎀 - The soul of Patience! - Name: Ivory! - Has been here the longest - Character tag: #chr ribbon

Ask Rules

Anyone can ask the kids anything! Just keep it child-appropriate, these are kids, after all. - No NSFW - Keep it in-universe - No fortune telling ("flowey is going to use you to attack another human one day", ect) - You MAY hint at stuff, just be subtle about it fghsdjk - You MAY use OCs, but your OC may NOT visit the souls in-person. Imagine it like telepathy. No one knows where the kids are aside from two people, not even the kids - Please do not roleplay as an established Undertale/Yellow character - KEEP YOUR BIGOTRY AT HOME. Transphobia, homophobia, racism, ableism, anti-religion/atheism, antisemitism, ect. will NOT be tolerated and will result in an immediate block. - The only "exception" is FICTIONAL racism, that being humans/monsters. Seeing as this is something Integrity grapples with, you are allowed to ask them about that. - (and in case it needs to be said, FREE PALESTINE!)

I'll add more as I think of it fsdhgjk

If I do not answer your ask, don't worry! I may just be holding onto it for later! There may also have been repeat questions, in which case I'll pick and chose which one I answer. And, if I wind up just not answering, you can always send another. No shame, no worries!

This blog is run by @dimonds456 if you wanna come bother me for stuff, I guess, lol.

I think that's it! Enjoy the story!

[legitimatesatanspawn]

Hello! Could you tell me if Sauron got wrecked by a dog before or after he created werewolves?

Sauron made them first! What follows is a recap about the creation of werewolves, the story of Huan, and why the fight is important.

Sauron bound a "fell spirit" into a wolf body, creating Draugluin. Draugluin isn't the most powerful werewolf though as that is his son Carcharoth who Morgoth handfed people meat to like he was an oversized pet. For the record to people reading this: Morgoth is Sauron's boss, who is essentially LotR's Lucifer.

It's not exactly clear what Draugluin was before getting stuffed into a wolf but it is fair to assume he was originally another fallen and corrupted Maiar. But it's possible thanks to his title as "necromancer" that Sauron shoved a dead evil human soul in there if only to match the linguistic origins of "werewolf" as "man wolf".

Sauron also could turn into a wolf himself - which was part of the Epic Fight with the Dog. The dog being Huan, who protected Luthien and helped her and Beren fight off... a whole lot of enemies overall.

Huan was literally just a dog. A dog the "size of a small horse" that was showered with a nice package of blessings so he was functionally an elf in dog form. Immortal but could be killed. Prophesied to die after speaking three times. Orome really liked that dog. Which is to be expected of the Valar Archangel God of the Hunt. Note: this is specifically hunting Morgoths's monsters, not wild animals. He likes wild animals and dogs and horses.

Why Luthien and Beren had the epic journey adventure is under the cut. As is the summary of the journey, the actual fight, and the aftermath.

Luthien's father got together with a Maiar named Melian, who was basically a one woman force of nature who protected an entire city-state kingdom by making an Unpassable Location. The kingdom Doriath was basically Hidden and Safe and Amazing and probably had a few dumb policies as is wont to happen when you're isolated and cut yourself off from the world's problems.

Beren... somehow finds his way to the forests around Doriath. Sees her. They fall in love (echoing what will later be Aragorn and Arwen and part of why Elrond is sort of Freaking Out because he knows how this story goes and while he doesn't wanna be Thingol... ).

Beren can't get killed off by Thingol's orders because Luthien managed to get him to promise not to, or to imprison him for the Audacity, so Thingol manages to get him to go along with a deal: "come back with one of the Noldor's stolen Silmarils from Morgoth's crown and you may have my daughter's hand in marriage."

This is meant to be a Solo Thing but Beren asks Finrod for advice. Finrod is a bamf and one of the big brothers to Galadriel and kicks all kinds of ass. He remembers all the drama of the Silmarils and was one of the Noldor who opposed the Oath to cross the artic ice for revenge to get them back... look there's a huge mess with the Silmarils and why Oaths are Bad and why no one trusts the Noldor or especially not Feanor or his sons. I don't want to get into it right now, their creation, or why specifically Galadriel's brother getting involved is a big thing. Like I get the reasons because that's Feanor's creation and Morgoth egged him on before swiping them, but god damn. But Finrod wasn't gonna go with them but then he didn't want to get cut off from his friends who did so he went along.

So hearing "I promised to get the Silmarils back" probably wasn't a happy moment for Finrod to hear coming out of Beren's mouth. Thank god no Grinding Ice was involved though because that was a massacre unto itself. It took around 25-30 years to cross that, or like 9 'years' as known by their calendar then. Even for an elf that's a long time.

Finrod gathered up a bunch of people but most of them got killed and captured and the survivors were taken to Sauron's island where he was still breeding Werewolves for some unholy reason. The probable meta reason is to ensure the existence of Wargs later on.

Luthien sensed Problems so she dashed out to find Beren and ran right into two of Feanor's sons and their dog Huan - who was given to one of them by Orome back when Feanor's family weren't being Ultra Stupid about the fancy cursed yet hallowed gems. And for reasons I can't remember clearly on why, they took Luthien prisoner and locked her up in Finrod's fort. Where she got chummy with Huan and Huan helped her escape (and spoke for the First time).

They got there in time to try and avenge Finrod's death. Sauron was like "oooh that Maia's spawnling. I'll be richly rewarded by my master if I bring you to him in chains" and cue the werewolf attack that Huan bamfed his way through kicking their asses. This included the father werewolf by the way, so you know Huan is a beast (affectionate).

And then Huan and Sauron fought! Sauron took the form of a wolf first and lost, but Huan got him in a chokehold with his teeth and just REFUSED to let go! No matter what form Sauron took, no matter what he did or tried to do...

Sauron got his ass kicked by a dog and it was only because of Luthien letting him go (probably laughing the whole time) so she can move on to more important things.

If you're curious about the rest of that story: Beren and Luthien snuck into Morgoth's hellish current capital by disguising themselves as his top vampire messenger/servant and the dead father werewolf. Luthien, when Morgoth tore off the illusion/disguise, continued to be a BAMF and bewitched the whole capital/fortress into falling asleep so they can pry one of the gems from the Iron Crown. Sadly Morgoth started to stir when something hit him by accident so they panicked and ran out with the Silmaril.

(Fair warning: nothing mortal can touch the Silmarils. Nothing EVIL can touch the gems either. This was by holy decree and blessing. So how Thingol expected Beren to take a Simaril back I have no idea.)

But remember when I mentioned Carcharoth, the son of the first werewolf? He woke up first because, as the guard dog who got suspicious as all get out over his "father" having "survived" (word reached him of his death), they had to first cast him to sleep before slipping into the place. Beren tried to use the Silmaril to scare him off by waving it in the air and instead he got his hand bit off for the trouble.

And then Carcharoth went nuts for a whole new reason: agony in the belly. He was put out of his agony sometime later to get the gem, but this is the best part I swear:

When Thingol saw Beren and Luthien rock up seemingly empty-handed... Beren told him to his face "even now I have a Silmaril in my hand".

Rest of the story short, Beren and Luthien got together, the wolf with the Silmaril in his belly showed up (probably was tracking them) and tried to get Thingol only for Beren to get in the way. Huan got the wolf, the wolf got Huan, Huan died with his head in Beren's other hand. Thingol got the gem, Luthien... died at some unclear point in time and convinced the Archangel Valar God of the Dead to change Beren's fate and let them be together in death if not in life. They got reborn as humans and got a happily ever after together - she gave up certain peace for an uncertain life with him..

Meanwhile, skipping over the hot mess that is Turin's life and why Thingol adopted him, Thingol got killed off by Dwarves who found out that not only did he have a Simaril but he put it in a famous Dwarven necklace "gifted" to him by Turin's blood father Hurin over how his son's life went (LONG story short: a terrible combination of Morgoth cursing people, Morgoth's dragon cursing people, Morgoth capturing Hurin and cursing him, and also Arrogance and Pride on Turin's part, and lots of soap opera drama) to create one insanely priceless artifact. This lead to the Sacking of the kingdom and a lot of death and destruction, as is wont to happen when Simarils are involved.

Honestly, Beren and Luthien should've decked Thingol when he first brought up the damn rock.

[sinner-sunflower]

P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 10/?

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22, PART 23, PART 24, PART 25, PART 26

Notes at the end!

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

Lucifer should've known that even in his sleep, his torment would not stop.

He should have been wiser, but exhaustion dulled his senses, making him lower his guard.

He thought that maybe, maybe, the universe would give me just this little moment. And at the beginning he really thought that. He felt weightless. Like he's not the Morningstar, the fallen angel, the King of Hell, the Sin of Pride, a father or a lover. Like for the first time in a millennia, he simply existed.

So forgive him for his surprise when darkness swallowed his dreams before he could savor them fully.

Roo: Hello, fallen. Been a while, hasn't it?

Lucifer: Roo.

Roo: Don't look at me like that. Our deal is still in effect, you know. I can't do anything more than this even if I wanted to.

Lucifer: You saying you want to do more then? Like harm me?

Roo: Ugh, you silly creatures, always so pessimistic. Can't someone just chill and have fun?

Lucifer: I highly doubt the root of all evil and chaos embodiment just wants to 'chill'.

Roo: Believe what you will, fallen. I am many things, but I am no liar.

Lucifer: Your sister surely is.

Roo had to laugh at that. 

Roo: Yin in every Yang or so they say.

Lucifer: What? You're telling me you have good in you?

Roo: I would think the fact that you get to keep your soul was a sign in and of itself.

Lucifer: That's less than the bare minimum.

Roo smirked and rested her head on her hand, a gesture that grated Lucifer's nerves. He couldn't help but think he should take a page from Adam's book and wipe that shit-eating grin off her face.

Roo: Had the old man never told you to not look at a gifted horse's mouth? 

Lucifer: Enough. Why are you really here?

Roo: If you must know, I merely wanted to ask how you are doing! After all, meeting The Fates must have been quite the experience.

Lucifer: You were looking?

Roo: I wanted to see if my vessel works well. It's not my fault I can see everything you see, hear every thought you think, feel every pain you wish never happened but also desire to inflict onto yourself. I wanna ask, does your pity party ever stop?

Realistically, Lucifer knows that Roo is messing with him; she was deliberately provoking him, reveling in his inner turmoil. She's luring him in, and he's taking the bait.

There's a creeping cold that's getting worse the longer they talk. He thought nothing of it at first but he's now starting to feel it under his skin.

He's well aware of the threat in front of him but doesn't mean he's not going to bite back with force.

Lucifer: I think you're forgetting who delivered the final blow in the first war. You know, the blow that led to your defeat?

Roo's nonchalant and playful facade cracked just a bit that Lucifer knows he struck a nerve.

Lucifer: Hell, shouldn't you be more thankful to me? Without my actions in offering the fruit to humanity, you wouldn't have gained the power you so desperately craved to rise again. And now, here you are, benefiting from my influence once more.

The Sin of Pride couldn't fathom where this sudden surge of confidence came from, but he refused to cower any longer. Roo had expected him to tremble in fear, to bow before her as if she were someone superior to be revered on.

He's sick and tired of everyone assuming he should be the one on his knees, begging for mercy.

Lucifer: How are you the root of all evil when I'm the one who started sin. You should be worshipping me! Now that I think about it, in some twisted way, I was your creator-

His mockery was short lived when the dreamscape glitched and suddenly it wasn't Roo in front of him; it's The Root of All Evil.

Laughter erupted from the shadowy figure, a grotesque sound reminiscent of a rabid hyena's. Refusing to be intimidated, Lucifer continues to put oil in the fire.

Lucifer: Bringing out the big guns for a little comment? Insecure much?

He's bullshitting at this point but damn him if he's going down without an ounce of victory. He also thinks he's lucky to have said as much at all.

The abrupt stop of laughter sent an involuntary shiver down his spine, and then gravity seemed to solidify around him, pressing down with an oppressive force.

Push.

Michael: All you had to do was listen.

Push.

Lilith: You're exhausting, Lucifer.

Push.

Charlie: He's defending this hotel! How come he could have faith in me but my own father can't.

Push.

Y̵̛̞̝̳̥͍̏͛͊ö̴̼̭̜̖́͗̒͝ü̴̩͚͆͑ ̵͎̉̒̄̄ả̶̭͈͍̟̳ṙ̵̡̲͙̼͎è̸̮̳̲̊͂̔̍ ̴̠͔̯̘̬̑͝s̵̜̪̗̯̚è̴͇͌̇ṅ̷̘̝̀t̶̛̹̝̄͘ẻ̶͓̱̬͔̅̉ͅn̵̥̽̋̌̓ĉ̴͜e̶̯͇̤̺̤̅̀̅d̵̝̰̬̗̋ͅ ̶̝͕̩͇̱̎̋͝͝ẗ̶̢̊͠õ̶̡̦͖͒̈́̍̍ ̸̧̏F̸̧̬̪̂̋a̸̞͈͍͇̔̓͘͜l̶̬͙̤͈̝̑̕l̵̼͂.̴̱̘̣̽̏̕͜

Lucifer screams. But instead of despair, he feels anger bubbling within him. What the hell is happening to him? He's been snapping more. Why did he snap at Michael? Why did he tell him that he can't wait for Heaven to be destroyed? He never wanted that. All he wanted was to give Eve free will. All he wanted was to love Lilith. All he wanted was for Charlie to be safe. All he wanted was for everything to STOP!

Roo: What's the matter, little devil? Never seen real evil before?

The cold is becoming unbearable now. The lake is frozen and all the greenery had been turned into crystals, consumed by the creeping frost that made them look like solid darkness.

Lucifer gritted his teeth, feeling the chill seeping into his bones, threatening to overwhelm him. He refused to give Roo the satisfaction of witnessing the King of Hell tremble; regardless if it's in fear or not.

Roo: Let me show you just how good of a person I can be. 

Then she's suddenly up on his face and brings a finger to his forehead.

Lucifer can feel Roo's corruption going further inside him and at the same time, a lot of somethings are coming out. It must be his remaining divinity because that's the only reason he can think of on why his Father's tether is screaming and clawing at him. 

He feels himself choke from everything happening all at once but he can't move. Roo has him locked in place and he never felt so helpless.

'Am I going to die here?'

No. Roo said that she won't be the one to deliver him to his demise. Nevertheless, he thinks that this is it.

Roo: Remember these words, fallen. A message from The Fates that you did not get to hear.

Charlie. He wants Charlie.

Roo: With the first soul's ascend, all began to unfold.

Tears begin to form in The King of Hell's eyes. Be it from the pain or fear, he doesn't know. 

Roo: It will end at a star's fall, as the threads have foretold.

Michael! Where is he?! He promised Samael he'll always protect him!

Roo: Trumpets will sing, as the sky recites a prayer.

'Father. Help me.'

Roo: An instrument of Heaven shall come down and be the devil's slayer.

He struggled to remain conscious; he fights to stay awake but he can't even move a finger but his efforts were in vain as he collapsed to the frozen ground, utterly drained. Through hazy vision, he can see Roo staring down at him with a gleeful smile.

Roo: See you soon, my fallen~

He wakes up to the smell of Marigolds.

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

In Nifty's voice: How was that?!!

You have no idea how long I spent making that rhyme prophecy thingy.

As always, your kind words and actions are greatly appreciated!

My DM's are always open for theories and introspections <3

[glitterguts13]

X reader with a pregnant Boothill and a pregnant Gallagher?🥹

I'm not sure if you meant together or separate, so I went with separate ^^;;

"You're sulking again."

"I am not sulking." back to the door, curled up under a pile of blankets, Boothill grumbled. A gentle hand runs through his hair, and all he offers in response is an annoyed growl.

"I know you're mad at me, but you can not go riding a horse in your condition." they had let it go for months, allowing Boothill to do as he pleased until they just couldn't stand by any longer. It was just ridiculous at this point, he should have given up mounting his trusty steed months ago, but no, it took until the start of his 3rd trimester and a healthy dose of bickering to finally get him to relent.

"I know."

"If you know, why are you still so mad?"

Finally rolling over, with some difficulty, Boothill flashes his jagged teeth in a snarl.

"Because I feel fuckin' useless! I can't do shit right now, and I hate it," he stops, eyes burning more than he'd like for them too, damn hormones, "I'm not mad at our kid, I'm just...I don't like feeling like this." it's a rare moment of weakness and reflection, and it melts their heart to see Boothill looking so downright pathetic.

"You are not useless," they reach out, gently cupping his cheeks and pressing a kiss to his forehead, "You're doing the most amazing thing anyone can do, you're growing a literal human being. And doing that means giving up certain things, not for good, just for now."

Sighing, he leans in more to their touch, resting his head against their shoulder.

"I know. I know, it just sucks. I wanna be out there, doing shit, helping people."

"You'll be back out there before you know it. It's barely three more months, it's going to go by so fast, I promise." they snake their hand under the blankets, running their fingertips along the slope of Boothill's swollen belly.

"I know I'm bitchin' a whole lot, but...I don't regret it. I am happy about it, ya know." he places his hand on theirs, sucking in a breath to force down a long overdue cry.

"I can't wait for you to hold them," they whisper, "You deserve a family."

Gallagher taps a finger against the bar countertop, foot tapping against the floor impatiently.

"Would you relax?"

"I need them to drop off that soul glad so we can get out of here. I'm starving and ready to get home." checking his watch again for the tenth time in half an hour, Gallagher returns to pacing around the empty bar.

"I can stay here and sign for it. Go on home," stopping in front of Gallagher, they place their hands flat against his chest, halting him in his tracks. He grunts, rolling his eyes.

"I'm not leaving here with you."

"Aw sweet," they tease, grabbing his tie and giving it a gentle pull. Gallagher had been anything but patient these last few weeks, sick of waiting for deliveries, sick of waiting for workers to cover his shifts, and most of all, sick of waiting for their very overdue baby to make its appearance.

"I'm not going anywhere without you as long as this kid refuses to vacate the premises," he grunts, pressing a large hand to the side of his swollen belly.

"Aw, baby, I'm so sorry," they coo softly, "It won't be much longer, I promise."

"If it's much longer, this kid is gonna come out walking." Gallagher rolls his shoulders, slipping a hand under his gut to lift the weight off his hips, even if just a little.

"Darling, you're barely a week overdue, that's perfectly normal." he shoots them a glare, grumbling under his breath.

"You know, they say sex can help stimu-" he reaches out, flicking their forehead with a deep frown.

"No."

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fic Titles that Start With the Word “I…” Masterlist

I Became We (This Christmas Eve) (ao3) - sierraadeux

Summary: Hanging from the ceiling above the counter, in probably the only space in the store that didn’t have icicle lights dangling from it, was a glowing sign that read:

SANTA’S LITTLE HELPER

or,

Dan is an Instagram influencer, and the only thing he takes as seriously as his carefully crafted aesthetic is his hatred of the holiday season. That is, until a certain Christmas elf breaks through the walls he has built.

I can't get enough of you (ao3) - Misha_with_wings

Summary: Phil wakes up feeling extremely sexually frustrated and no matter how much he gets off it isn't enough.

Luckily Dan was more than willing to be Phil's human sex toy.

i could slip into you (ao3) - dvp_95

Summary: The ghost of who Phil used to be doesn't seem so present in the bustling streets of a city that doesn't belong to them or in the expensive hotel sheets that they struggle to leave every morning.

I Dare You To Stay (ao3) - realityfallsapart

Summary: Dan Howell is a barista working a shitty job, frequenting his shitty apartment, and living a shitty existence, hiding his asexuality and going for a PHD in self-depreciation and depression. Phil Lester is a part-time intern, part-time employee at a local weather station, trying to get experience in his field and make a name for himself, while juggling a second job at the nearby Tesco's to give him some financial breathing room. Their paths were never supposed to meet, but what happens when they do anyways, one rainy day in Manchester?

i don't blame you much (for wanting to be free) (ao3) - The_Blonde

Summary: Art Thief Dans and the Phils who love them.

i don't know why (i can't keep my eyes off of you) (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Starting a new university is hard enough without Phil having to convince his best friend PJ he doesn't have a crush on their other flatmate, Dan. He definitely does not have a crush on Dan.

I Don't Love You (ao3) - itsthatone

Summary: Fame is suffocating Dan, pulling him away from the person who means the most to him. But Phil isn’t about to let him walk away without a fight.

I Don’t Wanna Think of Anything Else (Now That I’ve Thought of You) (ao3) - danscardigan

Summary: Dan and Phil meet and fall in love, all in one night.

I Don't Want the World to See Me (ao3) - Mysticallykai

Summary: Dan hasn't really accepted that he likes men, and Phil is incredibly patient with him.

i fall for the same face every time (ao3) - zsunsetz

Summary: In every universe, in every lifetime, in every world, he promises that he will love him.

i feel a kick down in my soul (ao3) - chickenfree

Summary: “I’m going to obliterate you,” he says, taking a few long steps towards Phil.

Phil runs. It takes him a minute to realize the ball is in the opposite direction.

i fell in love at the seaside (ao3) - larry_hystereks

Summary: in which mermaid dan is using his human legs for the first time and a curious phil is there to help.

i had died the tiniest death (i had spied the catch in your breath) (ao3) - jonsaremembers

Summary: Dan's not having any fun, so he complains to Phil. What's a boy supposed to do?

I Hardly Feel Anything At All (ao3) - BREAD2000yeet

Summary: Dan in a depressive episode spends his night at Phil's apartment to "do laundry" while there he finds what home truly means, some existential stuff, Phil is kinda unaware of depression (so is Dan in this fic, de-nial is a river in egypt) but he still cares

I Have My Freedom (but I don't have much time) (ao3) - sierraadeux

Summary: Phil just wants to get away. To clear his mind of everything and reconnect with a long-lost passion. A certain horse and the rancher who comes to his aid have other ideas though - filling Phil's mind, and his sketchbook, with brown eyes and charcoal dotted freckles.

He only has the summer. And he's not here to make friends, human or equine.

I Intend to Hold You for the Longest Time (ao3) - notreallythatuseful (orphan_account)

Summary: On the night of Phil's birthday, Dan and Phil are finally left alone.

i know it looks like hell (but every obstacle is worth it) (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Phil just wanted to give Dan a gift for Valentine's Day. Though, it becomes much more than that.

I love him (ao3) - Misha_with_wings

Summary: Phil had hidden who he really was for such a long time that he was scared of people knowing the truth.

Luckily Dan comes into his life, making him feel safe and so extremely happy.

Dan makes Phil feel less scared to be himself, and he finally feels comfortable and ready to come out and show the real side of him.

No more fear, no more secrets, no more hiding.

i love you, don't you mind, don’t you mind? (ao3) - velvettwine

Summary: They meet at a lakeside camping in France.

“I missed the train, can I stay with you?” Redux (ao3) - yikesola

Summary: Phil can’t believe he let Ian convince him to go out to a nightclub. How he got from there, to sending a text to Ian that he’s actually heading back to his flat with somebody holy shit don’t be worried he won’t get ax murdered probably, Phil really can’t be sure.

A ficlet about senses and surprises.

I missed you so much I dyed the towels green (ao3) - chuuyaswife

Summary: A few of Dan’s shows get cancelled while he’s on the WAD tour so he decides to surprise his boyfriend back home for a few days. Fluffy reunion ensues.

I Only Believe In You (ao3) - Reysamess

Summary: Dan walks out at three in the morning, and gets stuck in the rain. Phil comes to rescue him.

i said, "i got you now" (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: All it takes is a leap of faith. (Fine, and some tears. Maybe a few bruises. Possibly falling in love with someone from another dimension. Nothing Dan can't handle, really.)

I split the apple down symmetrical lines (ao3) - Anonymous

Summary: An evening, in the lead up to tour. Dan thinks about family and about home.

i thought that i was dreaming (ao3) - twoheadlights (fizzfic)

Summary: Dan and Phil and the beds they've shared. Basically.

I try to picture me without you but I can't (ao3) - solarpower21

Summary: After Dan's tragic death, Phil starts having a bunch of strange dreams where he is still alive. But are they really just dreams?

Or: Phil's soul consciousness can't cope with Dan's death, so he starts hopping between different universes, trying to look for him.

i wanna throw the fight (and kiss away your pain tonight) (ao3) - jonsaremembers

Summary: when feelings are too much for words

I Want It, I Got It (ao3) - yiffandquiff

Summary: Phil Lester was a worker for the BBC in London. Working in the advertising department, he was content being alongside his friend and fellow coworker PJ during every shift. However, the BBC is temporarily being used as a film set for a new movie starring Hollywood ‘It’ star, Daniel Howell. Being stuck as an extra on the set, Phil finds it’s hard to ignore the famous star. And maybe, just maybe, Dan finds it hard to ignore Phil as well

i was a king (under your control) (ao3) - internetakeover (nymhciv)

Summary: Dan wakes up hard and decides to reciprocate the morning blowjob Phil had gifted him for his last birthday. He may not have realised quite what he was getting into, but it's safe to say he doesn't regret a thing.

I Will Be Loving You (ao3) - phantasticworks (steddieworks)

Summary: Dan and Phil spend their first Valentine's Day out of the closet.

I Will Find You in Any World (ao3) - husbants

Summary: After watching their old Fortnite video, Phil asks Dan if he'd really find him in any world.

i will follow where this takes me (ao3) - curiosityandrain

Summary: Dan has a great life, he has an amazing job as a photographer and he lives in New York City. Phil is an independent filmmaker who hires Dan to work on his upcoming feature film after his usual cinematographer was involved in an accident. The two hit it off and become instant friends. Weeks of working together everyday helps develop their friendship and slowly but surely, Dan realises his feelings for Phil run deeper than just friendship. The only problem is, Phil’s taken.

i wonder why i tear myself down (to be built back up again) (ao3) - fairyy

Summary: Phil keeps his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans, his hands twisted forward. It looks quite awkward, he’s told, but he never quite knows what to do with his hands.

the neighbours, coffeeshop, and magic au that no one wanted.

[mirjam-writes]

20 questions for fic writers

Tagged by @suavissimapenna <3 Sorry it took so long!

How many works do you have on ao3?

7 for Sherlock and 23 Good Omens that are completely mine. 6 collaborative fics I have either partly written, or just made art for. So, 36.

What's your total ao3 word count?

380,863

What fandoms do you write for?

Good Omens! I used to write for Sherlock too, but that's now in the past.

Top five fics by kudos:

Truth Or Dare (E, 6.5K words), my first proper smut ever! Post s1 gettig together story.

Angel Of Justice (T, 9.5K), my first ever Good Omens fanfic. Post S1 from Michael POV, A/C as a background couple.

!False (It's funny because it's true) (E, 5.4k), an office romance human AU set in software company.

A Stable Relationship (E, 9.9k), horse rider AU with trans Aziraphale. Friends with benefits becoming a romantic relationship.

Girls Just Wanna Have Sun (G, 1.7k), outsider pov scene about Robin's day at the beach, where she meets two weird gentlemen who have never been to a beach before.

Do you respond to comments?

YES I DO! Slowly, possibly, but yes I do, and I read and reread them!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Uhhh... angsty ending? What is that? Technically Be Still My Soul: The Rift, but does that count if it's a middle part of a trilogy? That's definitely my angstiest fic of all time BUT I tried to write the happiest ending possible to it. But also, yeah, people died in the war (just not A or C), so maybe I'll count that story.

Edit: WAIT NO! To Love Somebody, a story from Shadwell pov about how he fell in love both Aziraphale and Crowley, and how that changed him. That's sort of angsty and the ending is bittersweet!

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Hmmmmmm. I have so many. I can't compare. Maybe Watching You (Watching Me), it's the porniest porn i have ever written, and it has...uh... several happy endings :D

Do you get hate on fics?

Not so far!

Do you write smut?

Yessss. I'm in my porn writer era at the moment :D

Craziest crossover:

I did some super weird anime crossovers as a teen (I hope those are long lost) but haven't dabbled on that since apart from very vague blink-and-you-miss-it references.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

One of my Sherlock fics was translated into french in 2018!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Only for one round robin event, which produced four stories! Not sure if that really counts as collaborating since we weren't allowed to talk about it when we did it, we just got the fic, read it, and added 600 words and gave it to the next one! It was super fun though.

All time favorite ship?

Aziraphale and Crowley. No competition there.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I don't usually start posting unless I'm 100% confident I'll finish the story, so I don't have public wips.

I had one pretty cool Sherlock post-apocalypse story idea, which I'd love to talk about if someone is interested, but writing it? Hmm probably not. But it's not really a wip, if I have only like two bullets in a doc?

What are your writing strengths?

I think I write pretty good bickerflirting and humour even in dark situations. And, uh... historical research.

What are your writing weaknesses?

LONG ASS SENTENCES. I need to cut them down. Chop chop chop. Also, I over-use commas and em-dashes.

Also, not being a native english speaker, but I think I've got a lot more fluent during the past years, so maybe that's not my biggest weakness anymore.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I have done it myself, in a situation when my pov character wasn't supposed to understand what was being discussed, but I did only a couple of lines.

My languages (apart from english) are finnish, very rough swedish, and teeny tiny bit of german, but many fics I've read that have used another language in dialogue, use French or Spanish (which are popular languages for English speakers to learn in school!), and with those I'm woefully lost!

But honestly, i don't need to understand every fic under the sun! You do you, I bet there are people who can understand whichever languages you'd like to mix in your story, and that will be amazing for them!

First fandom you wrote in?

The Book Series That Must Not Be Named. I projected so much of my teenage angst into wizard school drama.

Favorite fic you've written?

You monster! Making me choose. Uh.

Okay, fair. It's easy. Be Still My Soul, hands down. @be-still-my-soul-fanfic

No pressure tagging: @hkblack, @ambrasue, @tawnyontumblr , @ack-emma and @zehwulf and anyone else who wants to answer!

[osleeplessflowero]

hi!! i JUST finished reading your cowboy!stretch x reader oneshot on ao3 and i absolutely loved it, would you mind making a continuation of it? probably with them riding a horse. thank you so much for writing that i love it so much!!! :D

// HII omg!! I'm so happy you liked the oneshot, that one was super fun to write! I'd be more than happy to write a continuation. Hopefully I do your request justice! (Especially considering it's my first one!!)

🧡You can find the first oneshot Here. :)🧡

❤️ Reader has They/Them pronouns, and their SOUL type is up to you! 🧡 Country AU! Cowboy skeletons my beloved.. 💛 This takes place in a Crossover universe, so common fandom nicknames will be used!

It's been a few weeks since you met that dashing skeleton, Stretch, at Grillby's. After taking a few days, you worked your hardest and finally managed to fix up that old barn. Now she looks good as new, and you..need to find something else to do.

You sit in your house, kicking your legs back and forth as you lie on your stomach on your couch. Some random show plays on the tv in front of it you recognize, but you're not really focusing on it since you're facing your left scrolling through your phone. Nothing really sticks out to you, searching for something of interest before you see a little notification pop down from someone. You miss it the first time, pulling down the top of your screen and realizing it's from Stretch.

You sit up abruptly on your knees, shifting to face the tv and letting your legs rest on the wood floor. It's always nice to see what he's up to.

honey enthusiast🍯 - now -> heya, what are you up to?

You - now <- nothing much, just watching tv and dying of boredom lol ive got nothing to do now that the barns all fixed

honey enthusiast🍯 - now -> you could come over to me and my bro's place, it's just us here today

You - now <- rsally? *really?

honey enthusiast🍯 - now -> rsally

You - now <- stfu

honey enthusiast🍯 - now -> lmaoo but yeah im fr could show you the animals and stuff

You - now <- bet uh idk where you live tho

honey enthusiast🍯 - now -> i'll send you the location or i could just come get u if u want

You - now <- i think ill drive there i wanna remember the way in case i come over again :)

honey enthusiast🍯 - now -> alr sounds good to me lol i'll wait at the front gate for you sent attachment

You hop up from your seat on the couch, petting one of your dogs who'd decided to lie down in front of the couch and walking into your room to change.

"Okay, he..he lives on a ranch?? Well, I guess I should've gotten that from the cowboy getup, huh? I should probably wear somethin' I'm okay with gettin' dirty.." You browse through your closet, picking out some casual clothes that'll keep you cool and comfortable in the summer heat.

"Time to go." You walk out of your room, playing some music from the stereo in your living room and giving your dogs some pets before bidding them goodbye. You walk out to your truck and climb inside, turning the key and beginning to drive to the location you set your GPS to. A few familiar songs play while you make your way down several sets of roads. You promptly bop your head to them, lip syncing some of the words.

You knew you were at the right place the moment you saw it. The house was huge based on what you could see from the gate as you drove up to it, plenty of land surrounding it with fences up to keep any unwanted visitors out. You see a familiar shade of orange pop up as the skeleton opens the gate, walking over to your window and leaning his arms on it.

"howdy. glad you could make it, didn't get lost did you?" "Nope, got here a-okay. This place is massive- are you guys loaded or something?" You ask, flabbergasted. He chuckles at that, looking back at the house. "well, it just kinda happened when we exchanged monster currency for human currency. so I guess you could say we are." "Jesus." "you can go ahead and pull up wherever, it doesn't matter." He stands on the step just below your door, holding on. You smile at the action, driving further in and parking in a spot next to someone else's car.

He jumps down onto the ground and lets you get out, closing the door behind yourself and locking it before jumping down too.

You hear a faint "Hello!" in the distance as someone runs over, grinning wide. A skeleton, a pretty large one at that yet shorter than Stretch. His attire is pretty similar to the former, only his is buttoned up much more neatly and is blue rather than orange. Stretch's top button is currently loose, exposing a little bit of his sternum. You also notice how the two stick to one color scheme, Stretch sticking with orange and this one sticking to blue specifically.

"you're in luck, they just got here." "Yes, I'm Not Late! Hello, There! I'm Stretch's Brother, Blue. We Live Together Close To Some Of Our Friends." "It's nice to meet you, Blue. I'm.." You tell him your name, and the two of you chat about this and that before Stretch steals you away to show you around. You both walk around different parts of the ranch before you decide to go and visit the animals, saying hello to each of them promptly.

"You have so many horses-" "like. ten of them." "JESUS-" You pause, looking towards one, before turning back to him with a smile.

"..what?" He raises a brow, smiling as well with crossed arms as he observes you. "..Can we ride one?" "..you want to ride one?" "Yes- please-" "i mean, yeah, i don't see why not. though, we'd probably have to ride together. are you okay with that? if not, i can figure something out." "I'm okay with that. Won't bother me." "alright, just gimme a sec."

You wait patiently as he goes to get a proper saddle, walking over to a few horses and letting them smell your hands so they know to trust you. One in particular takes a liking to you, a black horse with a stripe of white from its muzzle to its forehead. It nuzzles its nose against the side of your head until Stretch returns, smiling as he walks over.

"somebody's attached. no, you can't bring the horse home with you." "Aww-" You fake pout, before smiling and gently petting its head. "but, you can come back to visit." "You bet I will." A determined look crosses your face. "you wanna ride this one?" He points with his thumb. "Yes- if they are okay with that, of course."

He nods, and after a few seconds the horse is saddled and ready to go.

"so, you're gonna have to sit in front of me. is that alright?" "Yeah, that's fine." "alright, cool."

He helps you get up onto the horse first. It's a bit of a strange sensation at first, but you gradually get used to it. He then climbs up and sits comfortably behind you and the saddle, gently taking hold of the reins. Feeling his arms around your waist has you feeling a bit flushed, your face heating up a bit as you hope he doesn't notice.

"comfortable?" He speaks calmly so as to not spook the horse, his head just above your shoulder. A shiver goes down your spine accompanied by an anxious smile. "Y- ..Yeah, I'm all good." You mutter, cursing yourself internally for stuttering as you hear him chuckle behind you. You don't realize at first when the horse starts to move before you snap out of a daze, looking ahead with a smile.

You feel..safe with his arms around you, even as you're very flushed. You can just blame it on the heat if he asks. What you don't know, however, is that he seems to be fairly flushed himself..a bright shade of orange lightly making its way over his cheekbones. He keeps his lazy smile as he looks over you, making sure you're alright and comfortable.

Blue has a cheeky grin as he watches you both ride around the field, leaning his arms on one of the fences.

His hold on your waist tightens a little when the horse picks up its speed, causing your face to heat up even more before that feeling is overcome by excitement. You cheer as it runs, carrying you both around.

This continues for a little while before both the two of you and the horse become tired. Stretch slides off and helps you jump down, guiding the horse back to where it can rest.

"That was fun! I wouldn't mind doing it again." "..maybe you can, next time you come over." "Yeah." You avert your eyes, your face admittedly still a little flushed. You can't fully bring yourself to meet his gaze until he reaches up to get some grass out of your hair.

"i wouldn't mind." He smirks, his eyes relaxed as he looks at you. You clear your throat. "Yeah, uh..looking forward to it." You smile in return as Blue walks over to greet you both.

"Why Don't You Guys Come Inside? I'd Love For You To Stay For Dinner. We Can Talk More!" He suggests with a friendly smile. You look over briefly at Stretch for a moment before turning back to him.

"Yeah, I'm cool with that. I'd better get home before dark, though. I've got dogs waiting at home for me." "you have dogs?" Stretch perks up, curious. "Yeah, two." "i wanna pet 'em-" "Well, maybe you can visit me next."

He grins as Blue guides you both inside, gently closing the door behind him.

Part 3? Ao3 Link:

[popponn]

hi dear, hru? if i could eat your theme for breakfast, lunch and dinner I'd die a happy human it's super cute and crunchy even though i forever will memorise the green themes you'll still manage to pull it off

BUT i genuinely need your opinion on bllk side characters (shidou, ness, aiku, barou and maybe karasu) rate them spell your favourite and last favourites because I'm ready to set up a chair with side of tea and listen to them rambles :3

im currently running away from deadline hello. pls don't tell them im here bae : D (i really need to lock in);;;; my love, as someone whose country is full of sour strawberries you kinda scare me. but i heard overseas strawberries are sweet tho so!!! also girl :(( im :((( wait im bad with praises but pls know i love ur themes and u especially skskdhfsf

now. to my bullshit. (please do know YOU are asking for this okay ^^) so while i put my yappings down the read more to spare some poor souls, tldr: honestly i cant really pick faves simply because my ass is indecisive as hell and i constantly switch rankings lololol and like when it comes to fictional character honestly as long as they manage to catch my eyes (whether by being amusing, complicated and so on) they are immediately an okay to me. and bllk is pretty good at making entertaining charas no matter how much of an asshole they are. so, yeah, this ranking rn is more of "what i can see from whatever spotlight was given to them and how much it makes my personal taste raises an eyebrow character-wise rn": aiku > shidou > ness = barou > karasu (give crow man more spotlight im begging)

shidou: honestly he is like. a force of nature himself. and also remember that one trivia on why he cries? yeah, that trivia honestly raise him up so much in my eyes it's kinda insane. but he is hard to write because i do n o t get him. i wish i do tho, he seems interesting and he praised isagi. already a pretty cool guy in my book, if we ignore the whole other package on the side but hey what is someone without spice. solid 8/10. the fact the first person he really kinda gets on with was sae is also hilarious. like talk about not seeing it coming. common knowledge that bllk side charas deserves more screentime bUT BOY. does this guy really deserve and need it (going back to isagi for a bit but i really want to see isagi work with types he really clashes with like shidou and reo. not even as a simp, but isg is our main pov so. like. isagi dissect this guy's brain pls. or hey light novel pls)

ness: despite his whole relationship with isagi i don't wanna deck him the same way i do to kaiser. absolute soggy wet meow meow to me, whoever calls him babygirl has taste. if i have to say anything is that i really hope his growth will be outside of kaiser. when a character is connected to much to another character in a canon setting, let's just say i can see why people like it but i prefer it when the narrative forces them to face the horror and save themselves in one way. honestly, a goofy guy who i wish to see develop more in the same way barou did. like we know kaiser will (unless the plot twist is twisting) but seeing a character like him who gets stereotyped as a "masochistic, dependent sidekick" by most getting more dimension and spotlight? yeah honestly i really want that. but for now... yeah im sorry but my personal score is 6/10 (but i really hope he will rise up because him being a dark horse in the narrative will be a breath of fresh air honestly)

aiku: i left bllk the first time right before u20 so let me tell you how amused i am when this guy is more than what i expected. if bllk wc team doesn't have him as captain im asking ego WHY. like as a captain? aiku really got my respect. like his canon cheating aside, one of the most decent dudes who can admit their faults out loud. if bllk was about defender instead of striker he would SHINE as a main rival. he kinda already does tho. the whole cop roleplay with isagi was so funny in an amusing way. honestly i really like his writing as a character. very mature, but his selfish bet was really telling of the another side of his character too. 7.5/10. minus point because i cant write him and im mad about it!!! (aka in all serious: 8.5)

barou: first time reading bllk, when isagi chose him i think it becomes one of those moments that really cements bllk. like?? the canon fodder villain who usually was just relevant in the first arc???? become one of the main rivals now???? also he is so housewife and why lmao. also put him and rin in a room. it will either end with a massacre or just them ignoring each other. honestly tho, he is funny to me because this guy has the Deep Voice but then he opens his mouth, call himself king, also dye his hair before uber vs bm match, and i remember how he truly is lmao. also the bowling and his whole dynamic with nagi are so entertaining. like nagi doesn't have to try to piss him off. hilarious. as a chara, 7/10, minus point simply because while dating him in rl sounds like a healthier option, i like my man a blaring red flag. on field a 9/10 because his whole asshole personality comes out and things get interesting

karasu: this guy is like. i am really mixed about him because i think fanon give him more dimension and raises more interesting points than canon has done him so far. but honestly, considering self aware he was and the rare moments the series gave him? he is an interesting character to have in a sport manga. this guy is realistic as shit, and he is also very self-aware of his own downsides. like. read his trivia. this guy is interesting honestly. another one i wish will work with isagi simply just to see more of him. also he is such a little shit but he is funny about it so it's okay. so, yeah, canon wise i don't really can say much about him (yet? idk). but there is this version of him i seen in a gen fic from the red white holy websites of fanfic that just makes me: yo. i wanna see more spotlight on this crow. so uhhhh 6/10 too?