#in my head he is a total savage

[tiya-minuscule]

Last Chapter Next chapter First chapter

Hello, I'm just like Clark, I would sacrifice a whole friendship for a joke. I'm stupid.

Who else had super embarrassing parents ??? I can't be alone on this plz

Once again big shout out to @lutiaslayton for helping me with the translation !

See you soon !

[foreverdolly]

ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 3 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking. ( need to edit this later because I'm exhausted right now)

word count: 3.5k

← previous chapter | next chapter →

If the intruder had made another noise then hadn’t been able to hear it. Not over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. Dread washed over you, the blood in your veins turning to ice as you were struck with a sudden realization: 

Either you fought for your life, here and now. . . or you died. 

Your throat locked up, and suddenly you found yourself unable to say anything at all. Shouldn’t you be screaming like a madwoman? Had he seen you undress for the night? Had he been lurking in a corner or a closet as your attendants had run your bath? Was everybody in on this? 

Every nervous smile and antsy movement came rushing back to you. Betrayal slapped you in the face so hard that it stunned you back into motion. 

The knife that you had hidden away in your room after breakfast was shorter than you would have liked- minimal reach, meaning you’d have to get up close to the attacker. Still, you somehow managed to kick the sheets off of you in order to lurch to the side before he was able to brandish his own blade. You heard it cut through the air, the loud tearing of the pillow where your head had just been perched a millisecond ago echoed through the pitch black room. 

You moved towards the door, bare feet against ice cold marble, and finally began to open your mouth to scream for whatever guards were sure to be stationed near the guest quarters. 

“I wouldn’t bother,” The man’s voice sneered, a smile evident in his voice. “No one will save you.” 

There it was. The truth. 

Everyone hated you, but you already knew as much. There was very little you could do in your nightdress- no way you could properly fend off an attacker without any shoes on your feet. Even worse, you had no shield. 

“Why are you doing this?” You questioned, raising the knife so that you were holding it defensively in front of you. You hated how pathetic you sounded with your voice shaking like that. Still, your hands held strong. 

Under immense trauma and stress like this your body had gone into autopilot. Again and again your training has been hammered into you. You must remain calm. Act with surety. 

Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. 

You waited, listening to see if he was getting close to you. The bed creaked, the attacker stepping into a single ray of silver light that had escaped through the blinds.

 It was a guard. 

So this was planned. You should have known enough. You would have thought that Feyd would have been the one to orchestrate the whole thing, but his earlier warning had made it clear to you that he hadn’t wanted you to perish. At least not like this. 

He didn’t say anything else to you before his arm came barrelling down. You stepped to the side, almost tripping over the fabric of your dress in your panic. The cutter blade struck the wall behind you, and in the man’s blind fury he left his side completely defenseless. You surged forward, the knife tightly clutched in your hand, and brought it down hard on his arm. He cried out, the sound nearly deafening you as it echoed off of the empty walls. 

“You bitch!” His weapon clung against the ground. 

Still, his uninjured arm struck against the side of your face. The world tilted beneath you as you stumbled backwards, your spine cracking against the dresser drawer as your knees buckled beneath you. Pain. It felt like he had just drilled a hole clean into the side of your face. No one had ever landed a blow to you like that. The guard took advantage of your stunned state, moving forward so that he could wrap his meaty hands around your throat. 

You needed to use the Voice. He had to stop. . . but his hands were squeezing too tightly. Your lips moved but little more than fearful croaks escaped you. Tears pooled in your eyes at the pressure, at the pain, at the fucking fear that was threatening to swallow you up whole, whole, whole until you were nothing. Your nails scrapped against any bit of skin that you could find. He hissed in pain, using the weight of your own body against you as he slammed you against the dresser where he currently had you pinned. 

You kicked out your legs, desperately trying to find a foothold so that you could wrench yourself upwards. If you were in pants then you might have been able to save yourself, but your bare feet slid out against the loose fabric pooled underneath you. The man had struck when you had been most vulnerable. He was killing you. 

Your eyes widened, the tears finally spilling past the thick wall of your lower lashes. He was killing you. He was killing you. He was killing you. 

With the ringing filling your ears, you hadn’t heard the commotion outside of your door. Only when it slammed open, light from the hall flooding in, did you realize that someone had been alerted. The hands around your throat loosened just enough for you to take a deep, wheezing breath in. 

“Help me.” But you couldn’t reach the correct frequency, not when your vocal cords were so damaged. 

Still, with bleary eyes you stared up at whoever’s large form filled the doorway. Begging them to save you. 

And so they did. 

The world just fell away, like ink on wet paper- it all bled around him. All sound and sight ebbed away, the only thing visible in his rage being your tear filled eyes. Feyd had seen looks of pure terror on the faces of men he had bested countless times before. It never meant much to him. The lives he had taken never weighed heavy on his shoulders. He never cared much for anything aside from his own ambitions. He had goals- found minor joy in sharpening his mind and his blades. 

 He had carried his memories of you from childhood with him into adulthood, each glance and nervous smile acted as a balm that soothed any future traumas or worries. He knew that one day he would be standing exactly where he was right then, with you within arms length. 

This wasn’t what he had pictured throughout the years though. Nothing could have prepared him for what he was currently witnessing. 

Women bled the same as men did. He never felt overly-noble when it came to protecting them, no matter how weak or frail they looked. Feyd understood that it was survival of the fittest. People lost their lives every day in much crueler ways than suffocation. . . 

But the guard had his hands around your throat, and in that moment Feyd no longer saw the proud woman that had managed to nearly knock him off of his feet earlier. No, in that moment you looked just like that six year old little girl he had always cared for so dearly. You looked exactly how he had left you- scared, fragile and innocent. 

Feyd-Rautha wasn’t quite sure what love was, but he could imagine that it must be what he felt for you. Losing you was an impossibility, he’d never let it happen. He couldn’t. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

An eerie sort of calm befell the room, the only sounds being your shaky breaths as you tried to fill your aching lungs with air. The guard didn’t answer him, only stared with fearful eyes up at the Na-Baron. He was looking Death right in the face. 

“Was it your idea to attack her in the middle of the night like this?” Feyd took another step into the room, which had the guard scooting back awkwardly on his knees. “You were going to kill her in the dark like she was no better than an animal.” 

He hadn’t even been brave enough to face you with the lights on. 

Feyd, without turning around, used his foot to close the door behind him. Once again the room plummeted into pitch black darkness. There was a shuffling sound in front of him, the man trying to get to his feet as fast as he could to put some distance between the two of them, but it was too late. Feyd followed the source of the noise and reached out, grabbing the man around the stomach before sinking his blade deep into his neck. A sick wet gurgling noise caused you to let out a small cry. Still, the blue eyed man wouldn’t be offput by your disgust. 

He had to pay for what he did to you. 

And so he dislodged the knife easily, the sharp blade gliding through muscle and skin, and then stabbed again. And again. And again. The guard moaned in pain, trying his hardest to buck and fight Feyd off of him. Even when the man’s legs gave out from under him Feyd followed him, falling to his knees so that he could continue his ruthless assault. 

The Na-Baron grit his teeth, eyes wide as his knife continued to find purchase in the corpse beneath him. The bastard had caused you to suffer. He had hurt you. Feyd didn’t stop there either. He stood up and made his way out into the hallway. 

The rage had made a home somewhere deep in his chest. He didn’t know what to do with so much anger. He needed. . . he needed to make everyone atone for what they had done to you. Did they think that he would approve of their lame assassination attempt? 

“You heard everything and did nothing!” He screamed out at the other guards who stood in the hallway. 

His hands were coated in blood, his black shirt and night pants soaked through, clinging to his skin. All they could do was watch him, unable to say anything at all. Feyd knew that they could not deny his claims. They had all been in on this from the start. 

And so he raised his blade again and did not stop until every man in the hallway was long-dead. 

Not a word had been said since the incident. You didn’t even complain when Feyd had all but dragged you through the halls, rather you followed him as emotionless as a doll. The blood of the fallen marred your arms and crisp white nightdress. It was as if your body had gone into auto pilot. Your mind was lost to you, as you felt as though you were floating off somewhere far away. You no longer existed at all. 

You were just a hollow shell now, in a state of shock that had you shutting down completely. 

Where was he taking you? You didn’t know, nor did you particularly care anymore. 

The guard’s final breaths had sounded wet, probably due to the blood in his lungs. The blade hitting bone. His moans of pain. Those sounds still echoed in your ears, and you were positive that you’d never be able to get them out of your head. 

You’d never witnessed anything like that in all of your life. Someone had been killed mere feet away from you. And yet you weren’t sorry for him. You searched yourself for even an inkling of pity and came up short. The bastard got what he deserved. 

“Why did you have to do that in front of me?” You managed to mumble out. 

Tonight would soon become a memory that would never abandon you. Even in old age you were certain that you would be able to recall every gut wrenching detail of tonights events. When the door leading out to the doorway had opened and illuminated the room, Feyd’s sins had been revealed in full to you. 

The guard was unrecognizable. He no longer looked human to you, his insides turned out. Your betrothed had quite literally gutted your attacker in front of you. 

Your bare feet tracked blood on the floors, the long skirts of your nightgown soaked with another man’s blood. 

“I killed him for you. I wanted you to experience every moment of retribution.” He didn’t turn around to face you as he spoke. Instead he kept his eyes on the hallway, the pupils of his pale blue eyes blown out wide. 

You cast a look down at the hand that was holding your arm in a vice-like grip. He was shaking. It was almost as though he could feel your eyes on his hand. His trembling fingers dug into your soft skin. 

Feyd released you once the two of you were alone in a room together, closing the door behind him and locking it for good measure. You stood there, motionless as you followed the line of his jaw with your eyes. The muscle there ticked a few times as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. He was still agitated, you could tell. 

“You’re starting to bruise.” He motioned towards his own neck. 

Your hand flew up to your throat, poking at the tender skin. It felt hot under your touch- sore too. It would serve as a reminder of how close you had come to death. Tonight you felt nothing. . . but what about tomorrow? Would you ever be able to sleep again? 

“How did you know that I was being attacked?” Your suspicion was beginning to build back up again. There were just too many coincidences. 

“You think I had something to do with this?” He sounded agitated. There was no hint of his usual sarcastic lilt in his tone. 

You’d never seen Feyd like this before. He actually seemed. . . offended but your gentle accusation. 

“You can’t answer my question with yet another question. How did you know I was being attacked?” You might have been in a state of immense shock but you still had some wits about you. 

You were locked in a room with a murderer, and the possibility that he had a hand in your assassination attempt was high. Once again you found yourself utterly defenseless. If he tried to attack you now there was no way that you’d be able to defend yourself. Not only that but your throat was wrecked. You could barely talk at the current moment, meaning you couldn’t even depend on the Voice if you needed to. You were as helpless as a child in the wake of Feyd’s power. 

“I see you in my dreams sometimes.” 

Anyone else would have called him insane, but you were used to Paul’s dreams. They’d been getting even more vivid as he aged. So Feyd had a dream that you were in danger? You found it difficult to believe that he would go out of his way to come to your rescue. Still, here he was. 

“Is that why you warned me today at breakfast?” The pieces were finally beginning to fall into place. He’d known something was going to happen since last night. 

“Yes,” He tilted his head, seemingly deep in thought. “Something told me to go and see you.” 

You didn’t have it in yourself to question him further. You’d have to be satisfied with his answers. What you really wanted was a bath and a fresh change of clothes. One last look at your soiled clothes had your nose wrinkling in disgust. The smell of blood was thick in your nose- so strong that the iron scent almost smelled sweet. You gagged outwardly, putting your hands on your knees as you suddenly dry heaved. 

“You realize that he couldn’t be left alive after what he had done, don’t you?” 

Of course you did. That didn’t make it any better though. Your fingers stuck together, caked in blood, as you balled them into fists at your sides. 

“Bath.” Was all you said, already looking around the room that you assumed was his living quarters for any sign of a tub. 

He didn’t make any complaints as you closed the bathroom door behind yourself. Feyd gave you the time to process everything, didn’t knock on the door even once as the minutes ticked by. You stayed in the water until your fingers pruned and rubbed your skin until it was raw. Blood was everywhere. Under your nails, between your toes- it had even soaked through your dress and now caked your lower legs and thighs. 

You threw on a thin cotton robe you found neatly folded on a small towel rack, tying it tightly around your waist before you built up the courage to face your fiance again. 

“Take me back to my room.” You were eager to fall asleep. 

You’d been through too much. The thought of having to be conscious was tiring in itself. If you could close your eyes and sleep for the next ten years then you would. 

You missed your home. You missed your parents and Paul. You missed stability and security. Your life felt lost to you now. 

“This is your room now.” He was laying on the bed, already in a change of clothes. He seemingly took a bath himself while you had locked yourself away. There was no trace of gore left on him now. 

Your mouth went dry, palms pooling with sweat. Surely you were understanding him incorrectly. 

“You can’t expect me to sleep in the same room with you. We aren’t married.” There was absolutely no way your parents would approve of something like this. 

“I don’t trust anyone besides myself with your safety.” 

You didn’t trust anyone. Especially not Feyd. 

“Why should I be expected to sleep with you? I don’t feel comfortable-” 

“I will kill anyone that lays a finger on you again. Let that pile of bodies act as a warning to anyone else that tries. That’s why you should be expected to stay here with me. Get in the bed.” He seemed tired. Aggitated. 

“No.” You held strong. Never in your life had you slept in the same room as a man, let alone someone like Feyd-Rautha. He’d sooner kill you in your sleep then anyone else would. 

“Come here.” His tone caused you to jump. 

You had to bite your tongue as you approached him, sitting down awkwardly on the bed before you finally succumbed to his wishes. The bed was softer than your own, which you immediately envied. The soft mattress enveloped you, and all at once the tiredness you hadn’t felt until then finally sank in. 

You didn’t put up much more of a fight. Your eyes were beginning to close on their own accord. Feyd was watching you, turned on his side so that he could get a better look at you. It was then, for the first time ever, that you fully noted how beautiful he was. Up close like this he was even more striking. Blue eyes, full lips and pale, flawless skin. 

One thing that went unnoticed by you was the fact that Feyd didn’t turn the lights off. 

Without having to ask. . . he didn’t turn the lights off. 

← previous chapter | next chapter →

ೃ࿔ savage bonds taglist:

@elf-punk @shitfuckeryclownverse @mydarlingelvis @heartarianagran @ohdearmaggie @chalametism @killingboredom @obsessedvibee @avidreader73 @softboo @tedcruzumakii @luminnara @narniansmagic @torchbearerkyle @ziggy-stardust-world @tian-monique @adoxra @zz-snow-zz @tiredsleepyhead @icontrolthespice @itsparksjoyhuh @verveta345 @shegatsby @zae5 @ertepla @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @lotus-888 @meetmeatyourworst @moonchild-artemisdaughter @abswifey @flower-frog @auroranodyssey @forgedfromthestars @moony-artemis @juliskopf @moonsoulk @serrendiipty @atrxidxs @the-ruler-of-death @mintoblobo @just-pure-trash @randominterwebthings @springholland @so-dramatic1 @ashy-kit @aslutforscarletwitch99 @sofia-013 @gamorxa @ricecakeslove @alexandrainlove @selfishlittlebeing @ceres27

[2-dsimp]

Would Temothy like it if his darling dressed up in one of those sexy cow print undies? Complete with horns and a tail and thigh highs of course x3

『Featuring your Yandere Assistant paying your office a nightly visit』

—————-;——————

Cw: MDNI 🔞Fem!reader, Temothy going feral, mentions of breeding, impregnation, very suggestive

—————-;——————

It all started with you wanting to reward your devoted lover and Assistant. For always giving his all in producing the best results for the company. But it soon ended with you fearing for your capability to walk. Since the Bull hybrid who was trying his hardest to persuade you to let him inside you Your office.

Temothy can hardly stand it any longer - the bull’s desire for his darling boss wearing sexy cow print lingerie. Alongside the signature cow ear headband and cowbell that was dangling from the cute choker around their neck. Sent his head spinning and his balls itching to be emptied out in that sweet womb of yours.

Temothy: “My dear please open the door! I promise I won’t fuck you till my balls are empty—shit! That slipped out. Sorry, what I meant was…”

Your Assistant was trying and failing to convince you to open the door after nearly going feral. In trying to quite literally snatch you up and fuck you senseless on sight. Right then and there on top of your pristine desk. After catching a glimpse of your provocative choice in attire. By chance of walking in on you changing within the safety of your office after closing hours.

Y/n: “Tem I heard that! I’m sorry but I can’t open the door and risk having my office in complete shambles cuz of you”

Temothy nearly growled at your soft rejection as he had the insatiable urge to bully his heavy cock. That was leaking copious amounts of pre within his slacks within your velvety walls. The more you kept him away from your delectable form. The more his shaft was hardening in anticipation and need. To sink his meat deep inside your walls and knock you up with his calves. Despite his best attempts at trying to contain himself by gnawing on his bovine tail. But Your Assistant couldn’t conceal how much he looked like a bull that’s about to go rogue from seeing the color red.

The bull hybrid was quite literally hanging on his last thread of common sense before he crashes out. And turns into a polar opposite of himself that was a savage beast. Who wants nothing more than to satiate his needs than that of his sweet little cowgirl. So by total accident he broke the door off its hinges and glowered down at you with wide eyes. A big hungry expression on his face as he completely lost his mind. With you being the sole one to blame for his loss of composure.

[cassieoz]

Frantic

"Oh where is the doctor? I have to push! I have to push this baby! I have to push so badly! I NEED TO PUSH! RIGHT NOW!"

Christine's pleads were laced with sheer desperation. The painful waves of her labor were coming relentlessly close now. The cramping was severe. Her entire body was sweating profusely. The oversized head was violently pounding down inside of her womb. Its gigantic weight was applying ever mounting pressure that was sheer torture for the mother.

The delivery doctor swiftly entered the birthing suite and asked for the current updates before sitting promptly at the end of the birthing bed. He gloved up and inserted his surgical fingers inside the laboring patient's swelling passage. A massive scream escaped the birther as he drove his fingers deeper and harder.

"Alright, Christine, you have waited long enough to do this. I nedd you to give me one tremendously hard push! Deep breath, hold it and now PUSH HARD!"

Shuddering down through the pain, Christine cried and bore down with all her tensed up energy. It was incredible to finally to be releasing the need to PUSH. Christine pushed again, yelling through the building pressure in her uterus. The massive sized crown slammed down as she worked to expel it forward and down. The climbing contraction became more savage as her efforts became more dramatic. The horrific tension accelerated through her core. She howled and strained. It was not moving! It was not going anywhere! IT WAS STUCK HARD!

Christine collapsed back on the bed after several more rounds of hard pushing. Feverish, she coughed wildly as she tried to regain her composure. The doctor was still inside of her, probing and pumping against her slowly dilating cervix. He ordered the ultrasound machine to assess the exact size of the head. All the staff in the suite were shocked when the image came up on the screen. There was silence! They all looked in total disbelief at the colossal infant inside this laboring patient.

"What is wrong, Doctor? What is wrong? What is wrong with my baby?"

Christine looked with wild eyes at the different medical staff around her and then back at the delivery doctor.

"Christine, it is the biggest baby this unit has ever attempted to deliver. This will be a marathon of hard pushing and birthing for you!"

Before Christine had time to process the information, the next contraction crushed into her. It's brutality was overwhelming. She screamed and leaned forward, begging to bear down again.

"Keep it going! Christine, I want to push like hell. The head is filling your birth canal. You need to try harder. You need to drive it down lower inside of you."

It had been an agonising hour of screaming pushes and torturous stretching as Christine had bore down to free her humongous baby. The mother was exhausted but she had no choice. Her laboring core would not allow her to stop and relax. The delivery doctor and staff had supported her through the painful pressure of each new intense contraction.

"You are doing beautifully, Christine. A couple more hard pushing rounds and you will began to experience the crowning stage."

The delivery doctor turned to the staff and ordered the birthing instruments and birthing formula. It was to assist if Christine could not do this on her own and naturally.

Another excruciating hour ticked by. Christine was screaming in sheer torture. The contractions had reached unbearable levels. The enormous crown was just behind her vaginal folds. She was yelling for any type of relief. After the latest contraction, the delivery doctor ordered one dosage of the birthing formula and one vibrating birthing wand. Christine didn't understand what the wand was used for until it was inserted and added counter pressure as she bore down harder than ever.

The delivery doctor held the wand firmly in her rear opening as she stretched widely, howling wildly through the process. Her body opened up, allowing for the mega crown to SLOWLY crown to her widest point.

"Alright Christine, we are almost there. On the next contraction, I want you to give me the biggest, hardest push ever! We are going to deliver this baby!"

Deliriously, Christine leant forward with staff support. She strained as hard as she could. Her baby needed her. She needed the baby to come. She was exhausted. The pain had come to the most painful point. Her body spasmed violently as the head pounded her entire nether region. Howling louder and longer, the baby started to fully come through her. The birther cried out and pushed again!

"Oh its coming! IT IS COMING! I HAVE TO GET IT OUT! I HAVE TO BIRTH THIS BABY! RIGHT NOW!"

Christine pushed again. Her body spasmed and erupted into a million pieces as she experienced the biggest climatic explosion. She pushed again, adding more quaking pressure between her thighs. Christine roared as she quivered out of control. Trembling violently, the head was birthed in a flood of birthing fluids. Minutes later, the rest of the baby rushed out onto the delivery table.

Christine closed her eyes and smiled quietly to herself. The sounds of her huge baby's cries was her ultimate reward for all her hard work!

[yumeka-sxf]

My thoughts on Spy x Family: EYES ONLY Guidebook (English ver) - part 1

I finished reading through my copy of the English version of the SxF manga guidebook "EYES ONLY." There's tons of fantastic information about the series, but I wanted to share my thoughts/commentary on parts that were the most interesting to me. Since there's so much content to cover, I'll be dividing it into a few different posts. Also, rather than go in the order of the book's sections, I decided to group the content based on topic. This first post will cover Endo's comments about the characters individually, as well as information about Garden.

Endo's Q&As and comments about the characters

Loid:

I like that Endo provides a reason for why Loid wears a WISE logo pin as it's something more than one fan of the series has questioned! And I totally agree with Lin about his "lack of distinctive features." Compared to so many other anime characters, especially shonen main characters, Loid's design is so plain, particularly in his hair and clothes. At least in his spy outfit he has a gun to make him a little flashier, but when he's in his casual clothes, he literally just looks like "some guy," haha. But that also makes sense for his character.

I love how Endo gave specific numbers for comparing Loid and Yor's strength (Yor: 10, Loid: 6-7)

Anya:

I did notice what Endo is talking about how Anya's design changed over time. But that can be said for all the characters really, and it's definitely not uncommon for manga-ka's styles to evolve as they get a better feel for their characters and world.

He mentions the classical language thing that was also brought up in chapter 42. Definitely makes me think that will somehow tie into her backstory.

Speaking of Anya's backstory, there was this little excerpt about the researchers at the lab. So one thing we can say for sure about her past is that she was not treated well there at all (which has been hinted at in the series).

Endo also discussed the origin of Anya's pink hair (namely, there really isn't any origin, lol).

Yor:

Interesting that he spent the most time designing Yor, and also about the origin of her stilettoes. And his apology to the cosplayers for that bonus feature about Yor's hair, haha.

I had to chuckle when he said they can't measure her strength because she keeps breaking the instruments! Also the fact that she hasn't learned how to make a single successful meal since the stew…Endo is such a savage sometimes, lol. But keep in mind that this book was originally published over a year ago, and obviously we know from recent chapters that her cooking is improving. I also like that he mentions that she has left witnesses to her work, like in Extra Mission 2. I wonder if that will be a bigger plot point somewhere down the line.

Like Anya having pink hair, Endo expresses some regret about making Yor an assassin (but his laugh makes it clear he's not terribly hung up about it!)

Bond:

I know some people are bothered by the fact that Yor is Bond's least favorite. But I think Bond's (initial) dislike for her originated from the chapter where he assumes he would have died from her cooking. Also the fact that Anya put the idea in his head that she would "murder" him if he did something she didn't like, like shun her food (which is obviously heavily exaggerated). But again, this book was published over a year ago, and the most recent chapter revealed that he definitely doesn't dislike her even if she's not his favorite. It's perfectly normal for pets to have family members they prefer over others for whatever reason.

Franky:

I love that Franky does charity work. I hope we'll see that in a future chapter.

Fiona:

It's interesting that he ranks Fiona's combat ability so low, especially when you consider what she did to Wheeler in the recent arc. But to me, that wasn't so much a display of combat prowess as it was totally raw, uninhibited willpower.

Yuri:

I love his blunt answer about whether Yuri has other interests besides Yor. Also intriguing that he mentions Nightfall when discussing Yuri's combat ability…maybe those two will meet eventually?

Information about Garden

Since Garden is still such a mysterious entity in the SxF universe, I tried to gather everything about them that the book mentions.

It's interesting that Yor sees Shopkeeper as her mentor since he taught her survival skills in her youth. The book also raises the question about how Yor found Garden in the first place…maybe something Endo will expand on in the future?

So the information Franky gives us about Garden is exaggerated? Gah, that just makes them even more mysterious!

The above was a cool bit of trivia...so it seems like the secret police might know more about Garden than WISE. Perhaps Yuri will find out about Yor's real identity before Twilight?

Continue to Part 2 ->

[scrunklyraven]

DIGITAL PAWS AU

MASTERPOST

The Dark Forest is a truly terrifying place, infamous among cats everywhere.

Bughop, once a loyal and courageous warrior, finds herself ensnared in this nightmarish place, with no hope of escape. Plagued by memories of her past, she struggles to endure the torment.

As Bughop navigates this wretched place, she discovers that not all cats can withstand the suffering. Many cats lose their minds, transforming into savage and twisted versions of themselves—unrecognizable, dangerous, and driven by madness.

Concepts and lore

Kaufmo Cricketbounce concepts

The “map”

Out of bounds

Unused concept art

Meet the characters !!

Meet Pomni Bughop!

Bughop is a cautious and jumpy cat who is trapped in the dark forest along with 5 other cats. Despite her initial skittishness, she demonstrates an innate sense of justice and often challenges the decisions of Foxteeth, the group's leader much to his annoyance.

Bughop is constantly plagued by a sense of restless anxiety. She is often found pacing back and forth, or compulsively scratching at the ground. Her behavior suggests an intense unease and a deep seated desire to escape

Meet Jax Rabbitthump!

Rabbitthump is a self-confident and unabashed cat, notorious for his cruel jokes and knack for picking on others' weaknesses, especially Tawnymouse.

No cat seems to know where he came from or what his past is, and he is quite content keeping it that way, relishing the sense of unease his mysteriousness creates among other cats.

Generally easygoing and carefree, Rabbitthump is never serious, except for those rare occasions when a critical event, like the tragic incident involving Cricketbouce, occured. Such incidents tend to make him uncharacteristically serious and even unnerved. Though, he’d never admit it.

Meet Ragatha Patchface!

Meet Gangle Tawnymouse!

Tawnymouse is a nervous and traumatized cat who used to be a Medicine Cat.

Due to consistent bullying from Rabbitthump, she is continuously on edge and always seeking to avoid confrontation.

Tawnymouse is naturally quiet and soft-spoken, and her behavior might be attributed to the fact she is always ready to flee at any moment.

She has heterochromia, a condition resulting from head trauma she sustained from an insedent with Rabbitthump The trauma has left her emotionally vulnerable and sensitive to any aggressive behavior.

Meet Kinger Frecklenose!

(Disc coming soon)

Meet Zooble (..............)

(Disc coming soon)

Meet Caine Foxteeth!

coming soon-

Official comic

Welcome to hell!!

F&Q

“Can I post fanart”

Yes yes yes!!!!!!!!! I’d LOVE that!!

Please tag me!!!!

“Can I put a self insert oc?”

Of course!!

“Can I write fanfics or other media?”

Yes! Yes! Yes!!

Show meeeee

“Can I ship characters”

Yes, but be responsible.

“Can I post headcanons?”

Of course! I’d love to see people’s interpretations of my work!!

(You shood totally tag me)

“Can I make animations (m.a.ps, amvs, pmvs)

Yessir!!

“Is there any ‘canon’ ships?”

As of now, no, but I’m kinda leaning to funnybunny or one sided showtime (heh) I really dunno as this is a wip and I’m really just getting familiar with the characters and lore

If I do end up putting ships just be aware that you are allowed to ship anything in fanart and I won’t be angy ❤️

With all that said I must add that this is a wip and there is a TON of unfinished storylines and plot holes that I need to fix. And a name for Zooble COUGH. So just bear with me…….♥

[newkatzkafe2023]

💜What If Babba Chopes Or the Nightmare Critters was Y/N pet's?

@lara-legomonkiekid

POPPY'S PLAYTIME CHAPTER 4 IS OUT!!!🥳🥳

I feel like each Wukong would have a critter he would be closest to the most😉😉😉

(Lmk Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhh wow... this should be hilarious Wukong had no idea that you have an army of rather unusual pets. Wukong found out you had pets called the nightmare critters, and they were a group of Vicious and rather rambunctious little babies that love you ever so Fiercely. Dispite them being a bit weird Wukong found them cute and not to mention fun especially when pranks wars are involved. Overall he's really cool with the nightmare critters

(Maggie Mako) she is his special little gal, you would often find the two sharing late night snacks and other Junk food. Wukong had totally won her little black heart when he snuck her a cupcake behind your back, and the two were pals ever since🦈😆

(MKR Wukong) Holy cow when you told Wukong that you had pets, he wasn't expecting a bunch of plushy like animals. Not to mention how those little critters knew how to throw down and thrown hands, especially baba chops. It turns out that the critters were Fiercely protective and caring over you, especially when you had pulled them out of a bad situation. Wukong respects that and doesn't bother them to much, however they do extend their assistance to him as well, especially in battle after all he's part of the family now.

(Baba Chops) Now Wukong loves baba chops attitude especially since she's the leader of the nightmare critters. Their are times where Wukong doesn't want to be bothered especially by the monk, and baba chops feel the same way about it being a recluse herself. So don't be surprised when you find them hanging out together quietly🐑.

(NR Wukong).........Well this is definitely something he never thought he would ever since, your telling him your little friends pets are a group of the world's most ferocious group of plushies. Now the old monkey has truly seen everything however it's not all bad, the nightmare critters got along very well with Wukong's mini monkey clones. Not to mention the critters take naps on him because they noticed how fluffy he is, just like they are In the end they definitely approve of your husband are willing to assist him if the situation calls for it.

(Allister Gator) You can't tell me this lazy gator wouldn't sleep on his head the most, which is strange because of how hyperactive wukong is. Though that doesn't mean he won't take a peak at what Wukong's doing half of the time, he'll just Quietly observe🐊.

(HIB Wukong) It was love at first sight...well for Luier and Silly girl to the nightmare critters. The nightmare critters became very fast friends with the two children, playing games, taking naps even baba chops joining in the fun. However It was a bit of a facade the nightmare critters would mess with Wukong but never in bad way, it's just how they bond with him and with each other. Over all they can be Acceptable to Wukong's Presents after all He makes you and the kids very happy and that's all that matters to them.

(Poe) Man Wukong and that bird go together like Expresso coffee and paranoia. These pair of brooders would often sit on the side and just watch everyone play or hang out. Poe would be found chilling on Wukong's shoulder most of the time, which would be handy if they spot danger before Wukong can🐦‍⬛.

(Netflix Wukong) His jaw was on the floor when be met baba chops and the others nightmare critters. What's worse he was stupid enough to go and underestimated them as well, because of their cute and cuddly appearance however They shut that illusion down instantly. Wukong could never look at children's plushies the same when he watched the nightmare critters savagely attack a man because he pushed you to the ground. Well at least he was one thing in common everybody means business whenever you're involved.

(Rabie baby) Pfffff oh my god can you imagine the Gossip they would exchange on the daily basis. The two would be on the side looking smug as they bad mouth the celestials, despite the obvious language barrier Wukong would ack like he knows exactly what she is telling him🦇. Squeak Squeak....What?! Really?! Noooo and then what happened😈???

(BMW Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhh He's not taking them seriously at all, like just look at them so tiny and Squishy. Like he knows their pets but they look ridiculous and would deliberately laugh in their tiny faces, which was his first and final mistake. Wukong Quickly learned how Treacherous and mildy violent the critters turn out to be, he also learns that the nightmare critters take your care and protection very seriously. Like they don't mess around when it comes to you and Wukong learned and respect that, and over time he got you to them and vise versa for them too.

(Simon smoke) Man those to would be bumping heads the most especially when their both megalomaniacs. It's always a competition between the two especially when it's about either you or their popularity and image. With their shared competitive nature it's gonna be pure chaos... With a hint of hilarity🐲

(Destined one) Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh the poor Destined one was so very perplexed by what was infront of him. I mean when you told him you had pets he wasn't expecting those said pets to be a group of plushies lead by a Medium size lamb. Though the Destined one didn't comment on it especially when he's seen so much weird crap, however the nightmare critters take an instant liking to the Destined one. They would be found following him around or sitting quietly whenever he would meditate, it wasn't all that creepy, as long as he doesn't make eye contact. Though they do help you and him sleep and relax with their cuddles and smells so that's always nice.

(Touilee) the selective mute and the chatterbox what a pair, Poor D.O just had to be favored by the Noisious mouse plushy . The little mouse would squeak away about anything and everything, never shutting up. The Destined one had actively covered his ears to block the sounds of the mouse plush. Touilee actually makes the Destined one miss living with Wukong.

(Lotmk Wukong) Oh boy, I headcanon that the nightmare critters can smell weakness.......that weakness thy name is Sun Wukong. Which is why they like to bully and troll him every chance they get, but not out of spite or to be mean nooooo........at least not this time. Nope, the nightmare critters were actively trying to toughen Wukong up for the late future. After all, he has you to take care of now, and the critters want him to be ready for any potential threat that may come your way. When they learn that Wukong has a powerful and dangerous temper, they help him channel it into power along with his love for you. They still think Wukong isn't ready, but he's clearly a work in progress.

(Icky Licky) Now believe it or not it's Icky Licky that takes Wukong under his much shorter arms. Icky's competitiveness becomes a might handy tool especially when he training with Wukong on a personal level, he makes sure to always put Wukong up to the challenge. The never hold back from each other as their love for you feuls them both in battle.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG👃

[thegnomelord]

Bro I have been a solid lurker for a HOT moment. Let me just say stupendous writing literally devouring this surplus like a fine dinning for 3. Daily check your page because the writing is so immaculate!

I have come to share a particular idea. Soap has a Mohawk but what about male reader having a cool hairstyle to. (Totally not because I also have a Mohawk there cool asf) but soap who is used to having his hair pulled, then comes along reader and he's practically begging to have his hair pulled with the silly style and soaps obsessed. BONUS points if reader and soap or monsters like bloodborne lichen dude 🙏🙏🙏 peek monster design I need to see that in action you know. (I'm so full of cool old school horror movies with monsters and insane cool practical effects) all I'm thinking about it Soap who's being an arse pushing reader to his limits, grabbing his hair and pulling only to get a near guttural growl from reader and getting demolish by reader

Sorry if that made no sense im rambling and the bus is a pain in my side.

Could I be 🛠 anon!

NGL I always wanted a mohawk and TRIED to do a mohawk but my head is shaped like a very inbred egg and it just does not look good on me.

CW:MDNI, sorry it's short I don't have much time cause I'm swamped with other projects and my studies :Dd

But I also love the idea of conventional werewolf Soap with Bloodborn werewolf reader. Like you're beastly even in human form, a wild mohawk on your head stretching down all the way down your spine, wild coarse hair giving you a savage appearance. And Johnny is painfully hard for it. Just something wild in bones absolutely salivates for the blatant ferocity you show.

So, as you do, he makes himself a menace every chance he gets. Something in him, something beyond his inner wolf, earns for the ferocious bloody fight and brawl. So any chance he gets, he's by your side, growling, baring his teeth, always trying to push the boundaries of your space.

He finally fucks up when, his need getting too strong, he reaches out and curls his fingers in your mohawk near the nape of your neck. The growl he receives shakes the ground and has his heart dropping to his stomach. Your teeth are on him in a second, big clawed paws pinning him to the ground no matter how much he shifts and tries to fight back. You're bigger than him in wolf form, wild hair and semi-flayed flesh falling around his head like a shroud so all he can see is are the jagged jaws snarling near his face.

And it only takes a second before you feel his ass bump against your groin, a second later to smell the strong musk of arousal clinging to him like the last dregs of humanity cling to your bones. Soap whines like a kicked pup when he smells your acrid arousal in return, licking into your open jaws and struggling on purpose to grind his ass against your quickly hardening cock.

[wholoveseggs]

Dark Star {Part Five}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part Five

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader} Elijah’s obsession with resurrecting you drives his family deeper into darkness, where alliances fray and unexpected lives are lost as Bonnie Bennett becomes their reluctant pawn. In the 13th century, love turns to betrayal as your forbidden bond with Elijah transforms under the weight of sin, faith, and the cruelty of vengeance.

8.3k words - Warnings: uhmmmm PAIN, death, destruction, full-throttle red door Elijah, so much angst, more hallucinations, Kol and Rebekah still being the ultimate duo, a tragic brotherly bond, compulsion, murder, MY QUEEN BONNIE BENNET && i'm sorry babes.... this is where it begins to HURT ... xoxo

{Part One}{Part Two}{Part Three}{Part Four}{Part Six}

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp

@madeinmyownmind-blog @lovelyy-moonlight @blacknightrises @poppet05 @sweetieseven

@xoxo-shy @nova-j @decaffeinatedparadisepost @fandom-princess-forevermore @theotherworld97

@origshipfan @cocoabliss

13 century Europe

The walk into the forest this time wasn’t filled with excitement and joy; it was heavy with dread. Each step felt like a descent into darkness, a part of you wondering if you would ever leave these woods again. But the pull toward Elijah was stronger than your fear, dragging you forward against your instincts.

Your mind raced, trying to piece together Sister Claire’s death and what it meant for you. You couldn’t believe Elijah would hurt anyone, but something told you that he was connected, somehow, to the terrible fate she had met.

He was too perfect, too healthy, too beautiful. He had led you to sin so quickly… He had to be a demon. There was no other explanation.

A cold wind swept through the trees, and clouds slid over the moon, plunging the forest into near-total darkness. You quickened your pace, as if Elijah’s presence in the clearing ahead could shield you from the shadows pressing in on every side.

Finally, you reached the clearing. A dying fire cast faint embers over Elijah’s dark form as he sat by it, his head bowed, lost in thought. He looked up as you approached, his eyes catching the firelight, flickering with an unreadable intensity.

He stood and moved toward you without a word, the shadows sliding over his face, and your heart pounded with a sudden surge of fear. You took a step back, tripping over a tree root and collapsing onto the damp ground.

“Stay away from me,” you warned, scrambling back, the words barely audible.

Elijah stopped, his gaze softening as he searched your face. “I would never hurt you,” he murmured.

You shook your head, panic bubbling up inside you. “What did you do to Sister Claire? How did she end up dead, her throat torn out?”

His expression twisted with pain. “Do you think me capable of such a thing? After what we shared, after what we promised each other?"

You took a shaky breath, fighting the urge to run. "You have led me into sin, and now a woman is dead," you whispered, tears welling in your eyes.

"I had no hand in her death," Elijah said, his voice firm, but there was a guilty look in his eye.

"But you know who did," you said, the truth dawning on you.

He hesitated, his gaze dropping. “Yes,” he whispered, sorrow clouding his eyes.

Your heart sank, the betrayal burning inside you. He was a demon, a monster. And you had been blind to it.

“You’ve corrupted me,” you murmured, your voice full of anguish.

“No.” He shook his head slowly, earnestly. “I would never. What we share…it is pure.”

A surge of rage welled up, fanned by guilt and shame. “You’re a liar, all demons do is lie,” you spat, tears streaming down your face.

“I would never lay a hand on you. Not in a thousand lifetimes.” Elijah knelt beside you, his hand reaching out to touch your face, and you flinched away.

"Stay away from me," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Stay away from all of us."

You stumbled to your feet and ran, not daring to look back. You had been a fool, blinded by his beauty, seduced into sin. And now, a sister was dead because of it.

Branches scraped your face, roots snagged your feet, but you didn’t stop. The darkness pressed in, thick and suffocating, and each breath burned as you ran through the forest, terror clawing at your chest.

Just as your strength began to fail, you saw a light ahead and stumbled out of the trees onto the convent grounds. Relief flooded you, but before you could catch your breath, something slammed into you, knocking you off your feet.

You hit the ground hard, the impact stealing the air from your lungs. Dizzy, you looked up to find another figure looming over you. It was Klaus... Elijah’s demon brother... grinning down at you, fangs bared, his eyes glinting with malice.

“Hello, love,” he said, his voice a low growl.

“No!” you gasped, scrambling back, but he grabbed you by the hair, dragging you to your feet with ruthless strength.

Without warning, he bit into your neck, and an explosion of pain shot through you, raw and searing. You screamed, clawing at him, but his grip was unyielding, the world spinning as your blood drained away, leaving you cold and weak.

Darkness swallowed you, the last thing you heard was Elijah’s anguished cry, calling his brother’s name.

You felt nothing. You saw nothing, lost in the void. Your last thought was a broken prayer, a plea for forgiveness. And then, warm hands cradled your head, a voice calling you back.

“Elijah?” you murmured, confusion clouding your mind.

“Yes, I’m here,” he soothed, his voice a balm, a lifeline.

There was the sound of an argument nearby, Elijah’s voice rising, but you couldn’t make out the words. Cool liquid touched your lips, the taste of copper filling your mouth. You drank instinctively, the sweetness flooding your senses, warmth returning to your limbs.

Your eyes fluttered open, finding Elijah’s face above you, his expression etched with worry. You reached for him, and he pulled you close, holding you tight.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.

The memories flooded back. “Klaus…he killed Sister Claire, didn’t he?”

Elijah nodded, his jaw clenched. “I’m afraid so.”

“But why?” you whispered, still reeling.

“It doesn’t matter,” he murmured, regret shadowing his gaze. “Just know, I would never have let him hurt you.”

You clung to him, your mind spinning. He was a demon, dangerous yet the man you loved. The truth settled over you, cold and heavy.

“You really are a demon…” The words were barely a breath.

He met your gaze, pain flickering in his eyes. “Almost.”

Panic rose, and you tried to pull away, but his arms tightened, holding you close.

“Please, don’t be afraid,” he murmured.

“Let me go,” you whispered, fighting the ache in your chest.

Reluctantly, he released you, and you stumbled back, a final look of heartbreak passing between you before you turned and fled toward the convent, tears streaming down your cheeks.

The weight of his existence pressed down on you, a dark and terrible revelation. You loved him... and in that love, you knew you made a terrible mistake.

13 century Europe

You managed to climb back through the window of your bedroom and collapsed onto the cold stone floor, sobbing. The weight of what had happened pressed down on you, heavy and unrelenting, until you felt as though you couldn’t breathe. You lay there, the floor hard against your cheek, tears staining your skin and blood drying on your lips.

You weren’t sure how long you remained like that, lost in despair, until a soft cough broke the silence. You looked up, startled, to see Sister Margaret standing over you, her face shadowed, her expression unreadable.

Realization dawned as you took in your disheveled state. Your habit torn, stained with dirt, your face wet with tears, and the telltale smear of blood on your mouth. Shame burned through you, and you averted your gaze.

“What happened?” she asked gently, kneeling beside you. Her tone was concerned, but there was an edge to it, a hesitation.

You sat up slowly, wiping at your face. “I…I don’t know,” you managed, voice weak.

Sister Margaret’s brow furrowed as she took in your appearance. “You were gone for hours,” she murmured, her tone laced with worry.

“I know,” you whispered, a fresh wave of tears prickling your eyes. You tried to blink them back, but they threatened to spill over.

Her gaze grew sharper, her concern tinged with suspicion. “Is this…is this a result of Lord Mikaelson’s visit?” Her voice held a faint accusation, a disapproving edge.

The shame intensified, and you closed your eyes, feeling a hot flush crawl up your neck. “Yes,” you admitted, barely above a whisper.

She sighed, disappointment heavy in her voice. “I warned you, sister. I told you not to stray from His light.”

You lowered your head, the weight of her words pressing down on you. You knew she was right, but guilt and regret were tangled too deeply for any comfort.

“Come,” she said, reaching for your hand. “We must tell Mother Mathilde.”

“No! Please,” you gasped, clutching her hand as panic flared within you. “I can’t…not after everything that’s happened.”

Sister Margaret hesitated, her eyes searching your face. For a moment, you saw a flicker of sympathy, but it was quickly replaced by duty. “You must confess your sins, sister. It’s the only way.”

“Please, I can’t…I don’t deserve forgiveness,” you choked, the words escaping in a broken sob. “What I’ve done… It’s beyond forgivable.”

“God is merciful,” she replied softly, settling down beside you, her arm wrapping around your trembling shoulders. Her voice was calm, reassuring, and you found yourself clinging to that sliver of hope. “You need to pray, sister. Ask for forgiveness, and it will come.”

“You don’t understand…” you whispered, the shame bubbling up, choking you. “Sister Claire… It’s my fault.”

Sister Margaret stiffened, her arm dropping from your shoulders as she pulled back, shock and confusion flitting across her face. “What…what did you say?”

“It’s my fault,” you repeated, feeling the weight of the confession bearing down on you, pressing into your chest until it hurt.

Her eyes widened, her voice barely a whisper. “What do you mean?”

You swallowed, forcing the words out, even though they tasted bitter. “The demon... Lord Mikaelson- he…he seduced me.” Your voice cracked, and fresh tears streaked down your cheeks, the shame almost unbearable. "If only I had seen sooner..."

Sister Margaret recoiled, her hand pulling away as if you burned her. She stared at you, horror and disbelief etched in her features. “Oh, sister…what have you done?”

You hung your head, guilt washing over you in waves. “I gave my body to a demon. I…I forsook all my vows.”

A long silence stretched between you, broken only by your quiet, hitching breaths. Finally, Sister Margaret drew herself up, her expression hardening. “We have to tell Mother Mathilde.”

“No!” Panic surged within you, and you reached out, grasping her arm. “Please, she can’t know…not after…”

“She needs to know,” Sister Margaret insisted, her voice growing firmer, colder. “This is a grave transgression, sister. The consequences will be severe.”

You looked at her, desperation in your gaze, seeing the resolve in her eyes and the fear. “Please…I’m begging you. Just…just give me time to figure this out.”

She shook her head, sorrow flickering in her expression as she stood up, stepping back from you as if you were a stranger. “I can’t keep this secret for you.” Her voice wavered, but her resolve was unbreakable.

Your heart dropped, and you felt as though the ground had been ripped from under you. The finality of her words settled over you, heavy as stone.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, looking at you one last time before she turned and disappeared down the corridor, leaving you alone with the crushing weight of your sins.

As soon as the sun peeked over the horizon, bathing the convent in a pale glow, you knew it was time to leave. You had packed a small bag, gathering a few meager possessions. A spare habit, some candles, a few coins, and a small silver cross.

The night had passed in a blur of restless sleep and tears, the shame and guilt a constant, relentless torment. Now, as dawn approached, a cold resolve had settled over you. If you didn't run, you would be condemned... purified to death. Sister Margaret would tell Mother Mathilde, and the truth would come out. You couldn't face that. You had to leave, now, while you still could.

You opened the window, glancing down at the courtyard below, a cold breeze sweeping in. The early morning air was sharp and clear, and you breathed it in, steeling yourself.

Slowly, carefully, you slipped through the window, gripping the ledge. You took a deep breath, saying a silent prayer, and began to climb down the rough stone wall.

The convent was quiet, the only sounds were the wind rustling through the trees and the faint chirping of birds. Your hands were numb, fingers cramped, but you gritted your teeth, forcing yourself to keep going.

Just as your foot found purchase on the ledge below, you heard a shout. Startled, you lost your balance, the stone slipping from under your foot.

You fell, hitting the ground with a sickening thud, a searing pain shooting through your body. A scream rose in your throat, but no sound came. The world spun, a blinding light flashing in your eyes.

Hands grabbed you, shaking you, pulling you to your feet. Dizzy, you looked up, blinking, and saw the blurred face of sister Margaret.

"Are you hurt?" she asked, her voice frantic.

You took a breath, forcing the pain aside, and shook your head. "No...I'm fine."

"What were you doing?" she demanded, anger and fear mixing in her voice.

You glanced at her, then away, unable to meet her eyes. "Leaving," you whispered, knowing that the truth would hurt her.

"I was afraid you would say that," she said, a touch of sadness in her voice. "Come,"

"I can't," you pleaded, desperation rising inside you. "Please, just let me go. This is my choice."

"It's not a choice, sister," she replied firmly, gripping your arm and leading you towards the chapel. "You have sinned, and now, you will face the consequences."

She dragged you through the courtyard, ignoring your protests, and you knew it was useless. You had no choice but to accept your fate.

Mother Mathilde was waiting, her expression hard and unforgiving. She stood, towering over you, a figure of unyielding judgment.

"You have betrayed God and your sisters," she began, her voice cold and full of fury. "For that, you must be punished."

Sister Margaret pushed you down onto your knees, the hard floor bruising. You looked up at Mother Mathilde, tears blurring your vision, the weight of her words a heavy burden.

"Please, I.. I didn't mean to..."

"Silence!" she shouted, cutting you off. "Do you think I'm blind to your indiscretions?"

You lowered your head, a quiet sob escaping. "Please, forgive me..."

"Forgiveness is not given freely," she said, her voice hard. "It must be earned. You will atone for your sins through suffering."

Your head snapped up, and you stared at her, fear and desperation coursing through you.

"Take off your habit and robe, you are not deserving of such garments," she commanded, her eyes blazing.

"Please, I can't," you begged, but Sister Margaret tugged the clothing from you, baring your flesh, exposing your shame.

Mother Mathilde leaned down, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at her. "You have brought darkness upon us all, and now, it is time to purge it," she spat, her eyes burning with anger.

Tears streamed down your face, the humiliation and regret a painful reminder of your sins.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, pleading with her, but she turned away, ignoring you. She nodded at sister Margaret, and a heavy metal collar was placed around your neck, the cold bite of iron against your skin.

"Take her outside, to the square," Mother Mathilde instructed, her voice laced with disgust.

You were hauled to your feet, the chain connecting to the collar yanked sharply, forcing you to stumble after sister Margaret. The other nuns followed, their faces shadowed and grim, and you felt the weight of their judgment pressing down on you.

The sun felt too bright, the air too sharp, as you were led into the village center. A crowd was already gathering, word spreading quickly about your punishment. You looked around, desperately searching for a friendly face, but there was no one.

The chain was fastened to a post in the middle of the square, the rough wood rubbing against your skin as sister Margaret secured it tightly.

"Behold!" Mother Mathilde's voice rang out, cutting through the murmur of the crowd. "The wages of sin."

There was a ripple of gasps and murmurs as the people gathered closer, staring at you, their faces twisted with disgust and fear.

"Confess your sins, before I send you to meet the Lord," Mother Mathilde commanded, her voice echoing off the surrounding buildings.

"I...I gave myself to a demon," you stammered, shame washing over you as the words left your lips.

The crowd murmured, a low, angry buzz. You lowered your head, tears stinging your eyes.

"And what did the demon do to you?" Mother Mathilde pressed, her voice filled with malice.

You took a breath, feeling the weight of the chains holding you in place. "He...he seduced me. He used my body for his own pleasure."

"Whore! Harlot!" someone shouted from the crowd, the words a harsh and ugly accusation.

"Speak the name of this demon, this devil among men," Mother Mathilde ordered, her eyes boring into you.

You couldn't bring yourself to speak his name, the shame and guilt too raw and overwhelming. "I can't," you whispered, shaking your head.

"You will," Mother Mathilde insisted, her voice full of rage. "You will name the demon who corrupted you, or I will have your tongue cut out and fed to the pigs."

A wave of nausea rose within you, and you squeezed your eyes shut, willing the world to disappear. But the pressure remained, the iron collar tight around your neck as the crowd was grew louder, their voices raised in anger and fear. You closed your eyes, struggling to breathe as you spoke his name.

"Elijah Mikaelson," you finally whispered, the words barely audible.

The crowd erupted in shocked gasps and cries, a surge of fear and anger rippling through them.

"The Mikaelsons are demons, all of them!" a voice shouted, the words punctuated by a chorus of agreement. "They have brought evil into our midst!"

Mother Mathilde glared at you, her eyes cold and unforgiving. "Then the judgment is clear. For the crime of consorting with demons, and for bringing their curse upon us, you will be cleansed with stone,"

She turned to the crowd, raising her hands in the air. "Let this serve as a lesson to all, that the wages of sin are death!"

The crowd erupted in a frenzy, a storm of angry shouts and jeers. The first blow was from a young boy in the front of the crowd, he picked up a smooth, heavy rock and hurled it, the sharp edge catching your shoulder.

You cried out, stumbling under the force, the pain radiating down your arm. The next blow hit your chest, stealing the air from your lungs. You doubled over, the blows coming faster and faster, each one more brutal than the last.

Your world was reduced to nothing but pain, the rocks slamming into you, the chains holding you in place. You begged, screamed, pleaded, prayed, but the stones kept coming, the blows raining down on you, merciless.

You had abandoned God, and now he was abandoning you.

The rocks kept coming, tearing through your flesh, the blood streaming down your body. Each blow was a cruel and vicious punishment, and the crowd cheered, their voices ringing in your ears.

You fell to the ground, the stones striking you, tearing into you. Your world was a sea of red and pain, a never-ending cycle of suffering. Until the last stone was thrown, by the hand of Mother Mathilde herself.

You felt it strike your temple, the impact sending you spinning into darkness.

As the world slipped away, you had one final thought.

Elijah.

Elijah stood near the entrance of an old church, the crime scene tape fluttering in the wind. It was dark, the moon and stars hidden by the clouds, the air thick with humidity and the smell of death.

His gaze swept over the surrounding area, taking in the tall trees and dense foliage. Everything was eerily quiet, the only sound the rustling of the leaves in the wind.

Klaus was reading the crime scene report out loud, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "... Victim was found hanging upside down from the altar cross, her throat slashed. Blood was used to paint the walls, a message written in Latin."

"A sacrifice," Elijah murmured, his eyes narrowing, his stomach twisting.

"No, just a psycho," Klaus corrected, rolling his eyes. "Apparently the murderer is fond of leaving little notes."

"What did the note say?" Elijah asked, his pulse quickening.

Klaus rattled off the words, frowning as he translated them from Latin. "Lord God Almighty, light and truth, we beseech Thee, that Thou mayest drive away every unclean spirit, every deceitful demon, every foe of our immortal souls. Hallow this place and our hearts with Thy light and strength."

"An exorcism," Elijah muttered, his frown deepening.

Cami cleared her throat, she leaned into Klaus as she glanced at the crime scene report over his shoulder. "That kind of twisted thinking doesn’t come from nowhere. There’s a deep-seated belief system here, maybe even a distorted sense of duty. This is someone who believes they’re acting in service of a higher power."

Elijah clenched his jaw, his eyes burning with anger. "This has nothing to do with my wife,"

"Maybe, maybe not," Cami shrugged, her gaze softening. "But it does point to a connection between her murder and these others. If the killer is targeting women who look like her, we have to consider the possibility."

"No," Elijah hissed, his voice laced with venom. "It doesn't mean anything."

"Brother," Klaus said, his tone careful. "There's a pattern. You can't ignore it,"

"It doesn't matter," Elijah snapped, his voice rising. "We need to find a way to bring her back, that's the priority."

"Guys, down here!" Marcel's voice called out, interrupting the tense moment.

He was crouched on the ground, examining a patch of dirt. A trail of dried blood led towards a stone wall.

Marcel followed it, running his hands over the surface of the wall. There were cracks, and he slipped his fingers inside one, a frown forming on his face.

"There's a door," he murmured, pulling it open, revealing a set of stairs leading down into the darkness.

"A cellar?" Elijah guessed, his brow furrowing.

Marcel nodded, his expression wary, he looked at the others.

"Let's go," Elijah said, a chill running down his spine.

The air smelled musty, stale. It was cool and damp, the shadows clinging to the walls like a blanket.

Elijah stepped inside, the floorboards creaking beneath his weight. He could feel the darkness pressing in, the faint whisper of voices on the wind. Marcel was close behind him, with Klaus protectively hovering beside Cami, keeping her shielded from the unknown.

"This place gives me the creeps," Cami mumbled, shivering.

"Stay close," Klaus muttered, his arm sliding around her shoulders.

They followed the path, the stairs spiraling down into the earth, the air growing more oppressive, the temperature dropping.

After what seemed like an eternity, they reached the bottom. Elijah felt a sense of foreboding, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. He couldn't explain it, but there was a dark energy here, a malevolence that clung to the air.

"I can't see anything," Marcel complained, his tone laced with frustration.

"Hold on," Elijah said, he felt around the walls until he found a torch attached to the stone, pulling it off and striking it against the wall.

A flame sparked to life, illuminating the room.

Elijah raised the torch, his eyes adjusting to the sudden light, his breath catching in his throat.

"What the hell is this?" Marcel whispered, his eyes widening.

The room was littered with long dead candles, moss climbed the walls, and bones were scattered across the floor. Blood was splattered on the walls, dried and brown.

Cami gasped, pressing her face into Klaus' chest, trembling.

Klaus held her close, his jaw clenching, a growl rumbling in his chest.

In the center of the room was a large cross, and upon it was a woman, a dead vampire. Her skin gray and covered in dark veins, her hands and feet nailed to the wood, her eyes wide open, glassy and unseeing.

Elijah's eyes were locked on the corpse, a terrible dread settling in his stomach. He recognized her, a face out of time.

On the floor next to her was another body, a wooden stake driven through her chest. It was clear that it was self inflicted, her hands not far from the weapon.

Your phantom stepped out from behind the cross, and Elijah's eyes widened, his breath hitching.

"Hello, husband," You smiled at him, tilting your head. Dressed in your nun's habit, the very same one you were wearing when he met you, the very same one the vampire corpses were wearing. "Do you remember them? What you made me do to them?"

Elijah shook his head, taking a step back.

"This is all your fault, Eli," you purred, your gaze burning into him.

He swallowed hard, his hands trembling.

"You corrupted me, made me drink their blood, made me crave it," you continued, your smile turning cruel.

"No," he whispered, his voice choked, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Yes," you replied, the word harsh, full of hate.

Klaus frowned, glancing at Elijah, his brow furrowed. He was muttering to himself, his gaze locked on the wall behind the crucified vampire.

"What is it, brother?" Klaus asked, his voice tense.

Elijah didn't respond, he was lost in the nightmare, trapped in the memories.

"Elijah" Klaus called, his concern growing.

Elijah blinked, tearing his gaze away from you, his eyes focusing on his brother.

"C-can you see her?" He asked, his voice strained, a desperate edge to it.

"See who?" Klaus asked, his confusion mounting.

"My wife," he whispered, his throat tight.

"She's not here, brother," Klaus said gently, his eyes full of sadness.

"But-" Elijah started, turning to look at you.

You were gone.

He swallowed hard, blinking rapidly, his eyes stinging.

"There's something written on the wall," Cami pointed out, her voice trembling.

Elijah's gaze shifted to the wall where Cami pointed. In faint, jagged script, words were smeared in dried blood:

'In nomine eius quae nos decepit. In nomine eius quae nos corrupit. Tandem est purgata. Nunc quiescimus, missio sancta completa est. Salutem invenire possimus,'

Elijah felt a weight press down on him, his mind racing to translate the Latin. 

'In the name of her who deceived us. In the name of her who corrupted us. She has finally been cleansed. We rest now, the holy mission is complete. May we find salvation,'

The words struck him like a blow, each syllable carrying the weight of a fanatic’s conviction. His eyes darted between the two bodies sprawled on the cold stone floor. Mother Mathilde and Sister Margaret, both transformed into vampires. They had killed you, after all these centuries, they had gotten their revenge.

Elijah felt the world fall out from under him, his knees buckling, his mind reeling.

"You should have left me alone, Eli," your voice echoed in his mind.

"Elijah?" Cami said softly, placing a hand on his arm, concern etched on her features.

"It was them," he whispered, his eyes stinging with unshed tears, his heart aching. "They were the ones who killed her."

Klaus stiffened, his eyes darkening. "You mean to tell me, these two corpses were responsible for her death?"

Elijah nodded, his jaw clenching. "And now, they're dead too.”

Klaus stiffened, a wave of realization hitting him. "How could that be possible?"

Elijah turned to him, his face ashen, eyes haunted. "You tell me, you were the one drinking every villager dry!"

Elijah looked away, his gaze sweeping over the morbid scene. His heart was pounding in his chest, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind.

He could feel the rage boiling in his veins, a dark, powerful fury threatening to consume him. His fists clenched, and he let out a roar, lashing out at the closest thing to him. His knuckles slammed into the stone wall, shattering bone and splitting the skin. Blood dripped from his hand, but he barely noticed, his anger too intense to be soothed by the pain.

Marcel grabbed Cami, pulling her behind him, shielding her.

Klaus stared at his brother, shock and concern etched on his face.

"Elijah," Cami said, her voice quiet. "This isn't your fault,"

"Isn't it?" Elijah hissed, whirling around to face him. "Don't you get it? They killed her!" He pointed at the two bodies, his voice shaking, his eyes wild with grief and rage. "After all this time... She turned them by mistake... and they must have tracked her down..."

"Elijah," Klaus said softly, stepping closer, his hands raised, palms facing outward.

"No!" Elijah shouted, pushing his brother away, his eyes blazing. "She's dead because of me!"

Klaus stumbled back, his expression stunned.

Elijah took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, his eyes closed. His hand throbbed, blood trickling down his wrist, soaking into his sleeve. He looked down at it, his jaw clenched, his mind reeling. Then he ran, darting up the stairs, his footsteps echoing off the stone.

Klaus started to follow him, but Cami put her hand on his arm, stopping him.

"Let him go," she murmured, her eyes filled with compassion.

Klaus sighed, his shoulders slumping, a grimace of resignation twisting his lips. "This is bad, Camille."

"I know," she replied, her brow furrowing.

"How the bloody hell could they have turned into vampires?" he asked, his confusion mounting.

"Sometimes, snatch, eat, erase, has unintended consequences," Marcel mused, a scowl on his face.

Klaus felt a pang of regret, he had never really reflected about his time in the village. Him and Kol spent most of it drinking their fill of the locals. It was a blur, his memory of it hazy and vague, like a drunken dream. He had no idea that his carelessness could have caused something like this.

Cami wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. He held her close, burying his face in her hair, letting out a frustrated sigh.

Marcel watched them, his expression unreadable. He looked around the room, his gaze landing on the nuns' corpses, his stomach churning.

"Come on, let's get the hell out of here," he said, his voice strained.

"Right," Klaus agreed, taking Cami's hand, following Marcel up the stairs, and out into the night.

Elijah was nowhere to be seen, and Klaus didn't know where to begin looking for him. He had hoped that finding answers could ease his brother's burden, but instead, the truth had only served to deepen the wounds. There was no revenge to be had, and no one to blame but themselves.

13th century Europe

Death, it seemed, was a cold and endless void.

There was nothing... no light, no sound, no sensation. You drifted, suspended in an empty silence, time slipping away without meaning or measure.

But then, something broke through the emptiness. A gentle thumping, rhythmic and insistent, reaching out to you. It called to you, pulling you back.

Your heart.

Painfully, slowly, you felt consciousness returning, a heavy ache settling into your bones. Yet even as you opened your eyes, the darkness did not fade. Silence pressed around you, thick and unyielding, no hint of life.

You lifted a hand, reaching out and felt smooth wood just above your face. Your fingers moved to the sides, finding more planks, enclosing you in every direction. The realization struck, and a choked sob escaped your lips. You were trapped, buried alive, encased in wood and darkness.

A wave of panic gripped you, and you clawed desperately at the wood, splinters digging into your skin as you scratched, feeling the rough surface bite back. The air was stale, thick with the scent of earth. You were suffocating, the weight of the grave pressing in, sealing you away from life.

You were so hungry.

It was a hunger beyond anything you had ever known. It gnawed at your insides, a feverish craving that burned through you, leaving you weak and sick with need. You felt as though you might wither away, disappear into the dark if this hunger was not fed. And in the depths of your mind, one terrible thought rose, unbidden and irresistible.

Blood.

What had become of you? Was this hell? The punishment for your sins? You had failed. Failed God, failed yourself. Your body had been violated, desecrated, and now this was your fate. Condemned, starved, a monster craving blood.

But as the darkness closed in, and the hunger burned like fire, a muffled sound pierced the silence. A faint shuffling, a scraping, and then a loud thud. The wood above you cracked, dirt flooding in, dust filling the air.

Then, hands reached down, breaking through the wood and dirt, and grasping you by the shoulders. They pulled, dragging you out of the grave. The night air rushed in, cool and clean, filling your lungs with life. Above you, stars glittered in the dark sky, so beautiful, so bright it brought tears to your eyes.

A warm blanket wrapped around you, and a voice, soft and familiar, murmured reassurances. Strong arms lifted you, cradling you against a broad chest, carrying you away from the grave’s embrace.

Through the haze, you looked up and met Elijah’s eyes.

His gaze was intense, shadowed with worry, his face softened in relief. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, and as your vision blurred, his words echoed in your mind.

“Don’t be afraid,” he murmured, his voice a balm against the terror that lingered in your heart. “Everything will be alright now, I promise you."

When Bonnie's house came into view, the first thing Rebekah saw was a distinctive figure sitting on the step. She expected he would turn up sooner or later, figuring Stefan had alerted him the moment they left the Grill.

"Is that who I think it is?" Kol asked, his smile widening. "Another bloody Salvatore."

"Well, aren't we popular," Rebekah mused.

They pulled into the driveway and parked, stepping out of the car and walking towards the porch.

"Hey there, Damon," Kol greeted, grinning. "Lovely evening for a visit, isn't it?"

Damon cast a glance at him, but his gaze remained fixed on Rebekah.

"How can I help you?" Damon asked, his voice low, his expression hard.

"Well, for starters, you can leave," Rebekah retorted, crossing her arms. "This is a private matter."

"You can't hurt Bonnie," Damon snapped, his jaw clenching. "Not without going through me."

"Who said anything about hurting her?" Kol quipped, tilting his head.

"Get off of her porch," Damon replied, his voice edged with warning.

Before Damon could blink, Kol's hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of his hair. In a single swift motion, he slammed Damon's face down onto the wooden steps, shoving him hard against the boards. The sound of bone meeting wood echoed in the quiet.

"You certainly have the confidence of a madman," Kol chuckled, pressing his knee into the back of Damon's neck, keeping him pinned.

Damon groaned, trying to pull away, but Kol dragged him back, forcing him to his knees at the base of the stairs.

"Bonnie Bennett?" Rebekah called, her voice cutting through the tension. "I know you're in there, I can hear your heartbeat."

"Don't answer," Damon growled, struggling beneath Kol's hold.

The door creaked open, and Bonnie stood there, just behind the threshold, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the three of them.

"What do you want?"

"We’ve come to ask a favor, love. But your friend here is being rather rude," Kol said, his grip tightening on the back of Damon's neck, amusement flashing in his eyes.

"Let him go," Bonnie ordered, her tone sharp.

"Come outside," Kol demanded, his smile widening.

"Bonnie, don't," Damon hissed through gritted teeth, his muscles tensing against Kol’s hold.

"It's fine, Damon," Bonnie replied, stepping out onto the porch, her gaze wary.

"Good," Kol purred, leaning close, his lips brushing the shell of Damon's ear. "If you move, I'll rip your head off."

Damon snarled, his eyes flashing, but he stayed still, his muscles quivering with barely restrained rage.

"There's a good lad," Kol grinned, releasing his grip, stepping back and away.

"Now," Rebekah said, moving closer to the steps, her eyes locking with Bonnie's. "What do you know about resurrection spells?"

Bonnie let out a humorless laugh, crossing her arms. "No. Absolutely not."

"Come now," Kol drawled, his eyes glittering. "Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Not a chance," Bonnie answered, her jaw clenching. "Even if I could perform a spell that complex, and believe me, I can't, I wouldn't do it."

"Why the hell not?" Rebekah asked, her brow furrowing.

"Look, even if I was inclined to help you, and I'm not," Bonnie shrugged, shaking her head. "A spell like that, the cost is too high. It's not worth it."

"I'm sure we could work something out," Kol smirked, his gaze sweeping over her. He reached out and grabbed Damon by the collar of his jacket, yanking him to his feet. "Maybe a little incentive for you, hmm?"

"Leave him alone," Bonnie warned, her eyes narrowing.

"I would if you'd be reasonable," Kol chuckled, his tone light, a dark edge to his words. "We could do this the easy way, or the hard way. Your choice, darling."

The sound of tires squealing against pavement drew their attention, and Bonnie looked to the street, a sigh escaping her as she realized who it was.

Stefan came bounding up the steps and onto the porch, his gaze dark, his fists clenched at his sides.

"Let him go," he demanded, his eyes locked on Damon.

"Oh, Stef," Kol purred, his smile widening, a wicked gleam in his eye. "I was hoping you'd show up,"

"Stefan," Damon warned, his brow furrowing, his voice low.

"You have two seconds to back the hell off, before I make you," Stefan said, his voice laced with threat.

"What is with the hostility?" Kol scoffed, his brow raising. "I'm just having a little fun,"

Rebekah stepped between them, her arms raised, her gaze flickering from her brother to Stefan. "Everyone relax, this isn't getting us anywhere."

"Tell your brother to let go of my brother," Stefan replied, his voice cold.

"You heard him," Rebekah said, glaring at her sibling, her jaw clenched.

"Fine," Kol muttered, shoving Damon towards his brother. "No need to get testy."

Damon stumbled, but Stefan grabbed him, steadying him, his arm wrapping protectively around his shoulder.

"Let's try this again," Rebekah sighed, looking at Bonnie. "We need your help resurrecting our sister in law, and you're the only person I can think of who can actually do it."

"I can't," Bonnie insisted, her brow furrowing.

"Can't or won't?" Rebekah countered, her eyes narrowing.

"Both," Bonnie snapped, a note of frustration in her voice. "I know better than to mess with forces I can't control."

"Oh please," Kol scoffed, rolling his eyes. "We're immortal, darling. If anyone can control those forces, it's us."

"Look, I'm sorry about your sister in law, really, I am," Bonnie sighed, her shoulders slumping, a pang of sympathy flitting across her features. "But there are always consequences, and they're usually catastrophic."

"That's a chance we're willing to take," Rebekah said, her tone earnest. "You don't have to worry about any fallout, whatever happens, we'll deal with it. All I'm asking is that you consider it."

"I'm sorry," Bonnie shook her head, her brow furrowing. "My answer is no."

"Miss Bennett," a familiar voice called, the sound of footsteps approaching.

All eyes turned to the man walking up the driveway, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, his gaze intent, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Elijah," Bonnie breathed, her heart skipping a beat, a sense of dread settling in her stomach.

"I will only ask you this once," Elijah said, his voice steady, a glint of steel in his eyes. "Do as we request, and no harm will come to you or your friends."

A tense silence settled over the porch as Elijah’s words hung in the air, his calm tone laced with an unspoken threat. Bonnie took a step back, her heart pounding, but her gaze held steady.

“Elijah,” Stefan said, his voice low and tense, moving protectively in front of Bonnie. “You don’t want to do this.”

Elijah’s gaze shifted to Stefan, his face a mask of cold composure. “I assure you, Stefan, I am quite certain of what I want.”

Damon stepped forward, positioning himself beside his brother, his jaw clenched. “And we’re certain Bonnie’s not doing anything for you or your twisted family reunion.”

A flicker of something darker passed over Elijah’s face, but he remained silent, his eyes narrowing as he regarded the Salvatores.

Rebekah looked between them, an amused smirk playing on her lips, she glanced at her brother.

Kol shrugged, his brow furrowed, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"We don't need the witch's cooperation," Kol said, his gaze turning back to Elijah, his voice filled with amusement. "We could just take her."

"You're not taking anyone," Damon snapped, his voice low, a growl rumbling in his chest.

"Damon," Stefan murmured, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder, his expression grim. "Not a good idea."

"Listen to your brother," Kol smirked, his eyes glittering. "This is none of your business."

"Everything happening in this town is our business," Damon replied, his gaze sharp.

"Is that so?" Kol laughed, a dark edge to his words.

"It is," Damon retorted, his brow furrowing, his hands curling into fists.

"Enough," Elijah said, his voice soft, but authoritative. He turned his gaze back to Bonnie, his eyes filled with a mix of resolve and grief. "Miss Bennett, my wife is dead. And while I do not wish to threaten you, I will not allow anything or anyone to stand in the way of her return."

Bonnie hesitated, her eyes searching his, a chill running down her spine at the look in his eyes. She could feel the weight of his stare, a deep sadness, and a deep rage, burning in the depths of his gaze.

"I can't," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

"I DON'T CARE," Elijah yelled, his voice booming like a thunderclap. "DO IT."

Bonnie jumped at his outburst. She had never feared the Mikaelsons before, not even when they were threatening her, but the look in Elijah's eyes was beyond anything she had ever seen. A deep, aching sorrow and desperation, mingled with a primal rage, all focused on her.

Damon scoffed, stepping up beside Stefan, his defiance barely masking the unease in his eyes. “So that’s it? You’ll sacrifice everyone and everything just to get what you want?”

Elijah’s gaze flicked toward him, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “You know nothing of what I have sacrificed.”

Damon’s lips curled into a smirk, though his fists clenched tightly at his sides. “Yeah, well, I don’t care how ancient or heartbroken you are. Bonnie’s not your pawn, and we’re done playing along.”

Without warning, Elijah grabbed Bonnie's wrists, shackling them and suppressing her magic. Her body went rigid as her mind tried to process what was happening as Damon lunged, his fist aimed straight for Elijah’s face. But Elijah was faster. In a flash, he sidestepped, grabbing Damon’s arm and twisting it behind his back, forcing him down to his knees.

Stefan’s face darkened, and he rushed forward to free his brother, but Elijah’s other hand shot out, gripping Stefan by the throat, holding both brothers captive with terrifying ease.

“Elijah, stop!” Rebekah shouted, alarm replacing the earlier tension in her voice.

Elijah didn’t answer. His expression was cold, detached, a shadow of the man they knew. He brought Stefan's face close to his, his pupils dilating as he stared him down.

"Rip out your brother's heart," he said, his tone calm, almost casual as he compelled Stefan.

Stefan struggled, fighting against the compulsion, a growl rumbling in his chest. Elijah let go of his neck, still holding Damon in place with his other hand. Stefan’s face contorted with the effort to resist Elijah’s command, his hand shaking as it moved involuntarily toward Damon’s chest. Damon’s eyes widened with alarm as he felt his brother’s fingers pressing against his ribs, the pressure building, his breath quickening.

Stefan screamed in anguish, his mind fighting against the compulsion, his arm trembling. But no matter how hard he fought, the magic coursed through him, pushing his arm forward.

"Stop!" Bonnie cried, panic seizing her as she watched Stefan's hand dig deeper into his brother's chest. She moved to rush towards them, but Kol was quicker, pulling her away.

"I wouldn't recommend that, love," Kol whispered, his grip tightening as she tried to fight him off.

“Elijah, please,” Bonnie’s voice shook, her eyes pleading. “This won’t bring her back. It won’t change anything.”

For the briefest of moments, Elijah’s resolve flickered. The pain in Bonnie’s voice seemed to cut through the haze of rage and desperation that clouded his mind, and the realization of what he was doing hit him. But then the memory of your dead body flashed in his mind, and the grief consumed him once again.

"Finish it," Elijah ordered, his voice a low, commanding rumble.

"NO!" Damon shouted, his face contorting with rage, his muscles straining against Elijah's grip.

Stefan's eyes met his brother's, and all he could see was the pain and fear in them, before they dimmed. He knew there was no fighting it, and the moment his fingers wrapped around Damon's beating heart, he accepted his fate.

Damon gasped, a strangled cry escaping him as Stefan began to pull his heart from his chest.

"I'm sorry," Stefan whispered, tears streaming down his face, his eyes locking with Damon's one last time.

Then, with a single, powerful jerk, Stefan ripped his brother's heart from his chest, blood pouring out over his hand. Damon's body fell to the ground, a sickening thud echoing through the night.

Bonnie screamed, the sound piercing the silence, her eyes wide with shock. Kol's grip tightened, holding her still, his other hand covering her mouth to stifle her cries. His expression was a mix of awe and revulsion, but he kept her pressed against him, watching the scene unfold with rapt attention.

Rebekah stood frozen, a wave of horror and guilt washing over her. She could feel the hot tears stinging her eyes, her throat constricting, the blood draining from her face. She looked at her brother, hoping for some sign of mercy, some trace of humanity, but his face was a blank mask, devoid of feeling.

Stefan, still compelled, released Damon’s heart and stared down at his own bloodstained hands in horror as the compulsion faded. He fell to his knees beside Damon’s body, shaking uncontrollably, his expression vacant as the reality of what he had just done settled in.

“Elijah,” Rebekah’s voice was a shaky whisper, her face ashen as she struggled to find the brother she had known. “What have you done?”

Elijah turned to her, his expression unreadable, his eyes empty. “What was necessary.”

“Necessary?” Rebekah’s voice cracked, a tear slipping down her cheek as she took a step toward him. “This… this isn’t you, Elijah. This… this is madness.”

Bonnie wrenched herself free from Kol’s grip, her gaze blazing with fury and despair. "I will never, ever, help you," she snarled, her voice quivering with rage.

Elijah looked down at her, then looked to Stefan, still kneeling beside his brother's corpse, a look of agony and guilt twisting his face.

"Is that your final answer?" Elijah asked, his voice quiet.

"Yes," Bonnie answered, her heart hammering against her ribs, her breathing ragged.

"Very well," Elijah said, he grabbed Stefan by the neck, pulling him to his feet. Then, without hesitation, he plunged his hand into his chest, tearing out his heart.

"No!" Bonnie screamed, her voice breaking as she fell to her knees.

Stefan's body dropped to the floor, lifeless and broken, his eyes wide open, landing with a soft thud next to his brother.

"Elijah," Rebekah's voice trembled, her eyes wide and unseeing, her mind unable to comprehend what was happening.

"Take her," Elijah said, his eyes fixed on the witch. "And do not let her go."

Kol hesitated, his face pale, his eyes fixed on the bodies.

"Now, Kol," Elijah ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Fine," Kol muttered, his brow furrowing as he approached Bonnie, his grip tightening on her shoulders.

"C'mon, love. Let's get this over with," he said to her softy, dragging her to her feet.

Bonnie didn't resist, her gaze locked on Elijah, the anger and hatred rolling off her in waves.

"We're going to do this, one way or another," Elijah told her, his voice calm, his eyes hard. "The only question is, how many more lives do you want to take before we get started?"

"I hate you," Bonnie said, her voice a harsh whisper.

"Yes, I imagine you do," Elijah answered, his expression unchanging. "But that doesn't matter, not now. What matters is getting my wife back."

Rebekah stood motionless, staring at the two corpses, her mind unable to process the horror that surrounded her. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, her heart racing, the world around her spinning. The Salvatores were a pain in her side, and she had always thought them fools, but they didn't deserve this. The gravity of what had just happened was too heavy, too surreal to fully comprehend.

Kol and Rebekah watched their once noble, honorable brother, the north star of their family, turn to face them. But that guiding light was now gone, consumed by shadow. What stood before them was no longer their Elijah, but something else entirely.

A dark star, collapsing under its own weight, dragging everything into its relentless abyss.

{Part One}{Part Two}{Part Three}{Part Four}{Part Six}

[volturiprincess]

How'd the guards react if they caught reader wearing a pheromone perfume?

Sorry for the long await, I been going through a little writers block but its coming back. I hope this makes up for it💙 (I quiet liked writing Felix's part😁)

What Are You Doing To Me?

Warnings: some mentions of smut (kind of)

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

Felix:

As his mischief little mate (hehe poor fe, i love to have reader mess with him and Demetri and on occasion Alec🤭) you wanted to test something new with him

Two sprays later (the second for luck) of this perfume he goes absolutely feral over it 

Like his animalistic side comes out instantly (I’m picturing his face when he’s pinning down Eggward in New Moon, gosh do I love that scene of the handsome giant)

Pupils are dilating the minute he catches a scent of it, there so dilated that you can't even see the wine red in his eyes anymore 

Has you against the nearest wall when he catches you

Leaning his face dangerously close to your neck inhaling your scent

If he wasn't as feral before, well you better realize he is 100x more worse now

“How dare you walk around smelling like my next meal, hmmm little lamb?” (basically purrs it out into your neck, creating such a deep shiver that ran down your whole body)

With that he tosses you over his muscular shoulder carrying you off to your shared bedroom

He will not let you leave his arms 

He has envelop you in his arms with his nose buried into your neck 

Will lick,kiss, suck every inch of expose neck he can get his lips on to taste this new scent of yours 

He won't dare let you go for hours, even if it's time to feed, you basically have to pry and beg him to go feed or he won't go

He will ask you to only wear it when you two are alone or planning to be in your shared room all day (or during you know when😏)

Again absolutely feral, a total animal 

Demetri:

Could basically hear your cute little giggles as you are applying this perfume when he is waiting for you for your date night

Not expecting his darling to be up to something he is totally cut off guard when you walk out the bathroom with the most intoxicating but oh so addicting smell that his nose has the honor to be blessed with

Before you can even say your ready, you are pinned on the bed with him on top of you smelling you from head to toe (he does not have a foot fetish, my casanova is not like that, he’s classy)

He does this multiple times to memorize this smell and to make sure his nose is not deceiving him

“What kind of spell have you set on me, mi dulce niña?”

Basically starts to worship your body with small delicate kisses on any exposed skin he finds (as he should, why did that give me goosebumps?)

Each kiss results a deep inhale of your scent 

Unlike Felix, he is controlling his savage side so he does ravage you here and there so soon 

He wants to take his time and enjoy this 

Good luck trying to leave the bedroom because he won't let you until the smell is complete off your body (which takes days since you might of applied a bit to many sprays thinking at first it was not doing anything)

Alec:

The way you can make this vamp contemplate his whole existence still after he’s been around for so long never fails to amuse you 

Today you decided to mess with him 

After convincing Heidi to go shopping with you for this perfume you started to form a plan 

As your getting all ready for him you make your way with the perfume already on to him

You knew he was currently in the Volturi lounge area with the others 

You walk in and all four heads snap your way instantly

Alec’s as if on cue was at your side guiding you away from everyone else quickly 

He doesn't say a word until you are outside 

A little confused as to why he choose outside he turned to you with one of the most pissed off looks to ever exist 

Thinking he’s going to scold you (something you gotten used to but have a hard time taking him seriously when he looks so hot mad)

“Why? Why would you torture me like this?”

You're taken back by his question, are you really torturing him? I mean kind off, you were messing with him with putting this perfume on but at the same time you love to mess with him

Even though he looks pissed beyond pissed, you can tell he is holding himself back which is surprising since you know he is the first to react with his instincts during confrontations 

He just watches you with a scowl, it's almost amusing to see him ‘mad’ 

But with you being you and not knowing the whole effect you have on him he sighs and pulls you into his arms 

Thinking it's just a simple hug, he buries his face into your neck and tightens his grip on you slightly (not enough to hurt you obviously) 

To say he likes it is an understatement, he fucking loves it 

Oh you two remain outside for hours in this position, no words are exchange just his beautiful face buried in your neck, mesmerizing the scent down to the root of it 

When ever you do ware this he will take you outside where nobody will be able to smell you but him (possessive much)

Jane:

Where do I even start with this 

Jane was off on a mission and due to come back soon so you thought this was the perfect time to try out the perfume

You waited for her on the little bench built into the wall staring outside the window in your guy’s shared chambers 

You knew her along with the other three were coming back today because jane promised you 

She never breaks promises about her returns 

Soon enough she was back but you were lost in thought that you didn't even see her enter the room to be standing next to you

She grabbed your jaw tilting your head up towards her 

You can see how her pupils dilating 

Confused as to what is happening to her and about to ask her a question 

She leans her face into your neck 

You freeze for a minute until you feel her relax into you 

She literally melts into you, molds even in a way 

You felt yourself melt also as you don't dare interrupt her moment of softness 

She whispers a small “You smell nice, you need to wear this when I am coming back from mission from now on”

“Of course my little dabria”

And you do obey her because you know when she comes back from a mission she always seems a bit stiffer than usual, knowing you can calm her down makes you want to buy 20 more bottles of the perfume

[darkmxgician]

Promises Break- Part 3

pairing: fem!reader x noah. tags: drinking, trauma/PTSD, smut, choking, praise kink

word count: 1.9k

story song: what do you want from me? 

taglist: @sorrowsofsilence @angelsdevils @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @montgomery-929496

18+ below the cut

Part 1 - Part 2

~ Reader ~

Noah closes the distance between us, he grabs me and roughly pulls me into his embrace. His hand on my throat, pushing my head up, he looks at me like he’s waiting for something. I feel frozen, I can’t fathom why I’m not pushing him away, my traitorous brain not reacting when it should. That’s when he kisses me, and I lose every ounce of my being, his mouth moulds into mine, teeth grazing my lips, the force of it knocks the breath out of me. I get lost in it, a moan slips from me, the sound foreign. I loose my grip on my dress and grab him, needing to pull him closer, needing more. I’ve been wasting away lately, the memories from my past threatening to pull me under. It was wave of grief and sadness for the child I never got to be, so strong I was doing anything and everything to keep my grip on my current self, on the present, on reality. I opened my mouth fully, letting him sweep his tongue inside, losing myself in the moment, in him. Something snaps in him at that, the kiss turns into something savage, his grip on my throat tightening, I can feel his erection pushing into my stomach. I’ve never done this before, I’ve never even kissed anyone before, and yet I don’t feel nervous, I don’t try to back away. Further proof of how lost I am, how fucked the inside of my head is. I’m letting someone I normally can’t stand touch me in a way I’ve never allowed anyone else before. The worst part is that I’m enjoying every second. 

Noah seems to need this as much as I do, he pushes me back, my knees hitting the bed and I grab onto him to stop myself from falling. His mouth leaves mine and starts trailing down my neck as he grips my ass with both hands, pulling me up and letting me wrap my legs around his waist. I moan at the feeling of him against me, circling my arms around his neck and grabbing his short hair. He climbs onto the bed and pushes me into the mattress with his body, I’m completely trapped, and I’ve never been this turned on in my life. His attack on my throat gets more aggressive, he’s biting and sucking the skin so much I know I’ll have bruises tomorrow. Small moans escape as he ravages my bare skin, his groans of pleasure sending me over the edge. His mouth starts to trail down again, his tongue flicking over my nipple bar, his hands all over me, like he can’t get enough. I gasp at the sensation, he looks up through his hair, his eyes totally black, his mouth still around my breast. I nearly climax at the sight, I’ve always found him good looking, but I hated him enough that it negated any attraction I felt. Noah always sees right through me, through every wall I’ve built to protect my sanity, my sense of self, and those around me from knowing how much I’m crumbling. He sees past every defence and relishes in letting me know that, and nothing pisses me off more. After years of hating him for seeing how fucked up I am, he’s now on top of me, his mouth trailing further town, toward the waistband of my shorts. Any comfort I felt during his assault on my mouth, my neck and my breasts washes away. “Noah” I rasp, my voice hoarse. “Yeah little one?”, usually that nickname pisses me off, but the way his voice has dropped, the way he’s focussed so entirely on my body, it triggers something in me. It’s not like I’m a complete prude, I read a lot, romance books in particular, I just haven’t found someone who makes me feel comfortable, enough to explore my sexuality. I realise, as he’s paused above my stomach, looking up at me, that I don’t actually want him to stop. “I-I’ve never..” I trail off, stuttering. How the fuck am I supposed to tell him I’m a virgin, he’ll probably laugh in my face. He moves back up my body, his hands roaming over my bare skin as he does. Until he’s leaning over me, one hand above my head pushing him up, the other tracing lines on my throat, like he’s feeling my pulse. His eyes meet mine and I could get lost in them. “Are you a virgin y/n?”, his voice was guttural. I nod, slowly. He grips my throat and kisses me so aggressively I lose the ability to breathe, to think. “Do you want me to stop?”, his eyes stay locked on mine, assessing as our breath mingles. “Please don't” I whisper, not sure why I felt so confident all of a sudden. That was his undoing, he sits up and pulls my shorts and underwear off in one quick movement, I gasp as the air hits me, every inch of my skin feeling sensitive. He pulls me by my legs so I’m half dangling off the bed, and hooks them over his broad shoulders. Before I can even adjust to the new position he unleashes himself on me, his tongue feasting on me, his teeth biting at my swollen clit. I lose myself in the pleasure. My only experience is with a tiny vibrator, and I now realise that I’ve been missing out on a lot. My moans turn into loud groans, my hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer to me as I lose all control of my limbs. My body shakes like I’m having a seizure as the pressure begins to build, stronger than I’ve ever felt it before. His grip on my hips tightens and when he pushes one of his long fingers inside me, I shatter completely.

~ Noah ~

I cannot get enough of her, she tastes better than I could have ever imagined, and her whimpering, her moans, are threatening to undo me. She was soaked before I even started. I knew she’d not dated since I met her, and could tell she was inexperienced when I kissed her. But finding out she’s a virgin, it did something to me. Completely innocent, untouched. I almost came at the first taste of her, so fucking wet. And when I put one finger inside her, I felt her entire body let go, her scream as she came undone completely only fuelled by own sadistic tendencies, made me grip her so hard I knew it would mark her. I continued to feast on her as she came down from her high. Her body shaking so much I had to keep hold of her. Slowly her breathing returned to a slow pant, she let go of my hair and tried to move. Did she think we were done? I look up at her, my mouth around her clit, her eyes are hazy with pleasure, her mouth open slightly, a shocked but sated expression on her face. I add a second finger and she groans, her back arching and head falling back into the mattress. “Good girl” I mutter against her, and I feel her clench around my fingers. Does the little virgin have a praise kink? “Such a good girl, so wet for me, you taste like my new favourite meal”, she moans, hands flying back to my hair. I smile as I continue to eat her out, my fingers moving slowly, stretching out her tight cunt. It’s like she was made for me, so fucking perfect. 

I manage to pull two more orgasms from her with mouth and my fingers. I move back onto the bed to kiss her, to show her how good she tastes. Her face is red, tears staining her cheeks, her make up running down her face. Marks are starting to form from my previous assault on her throat. I pull her mouth open with the fingers that were just inside her, she goes pliant, letting me do what I please, so fucking perfect. I spit her release into her mouth, and kiss her greedily, hungry for more. She groans and fists her hands in the fabric of my t-shirt, pulling me closer. My cock starts straining against my trousers. I pull them down, positioning myself between her legs and driving inside of her, losing control completely. I feel her hymen break, she screams and the sound is like kindling to my arousal. I pull out completely and ram back inside her, a throaty groan comes from her, the noises she’s making are as animalistic as I feel. I know I should be gentle, but she’s so soft and wet and tight. I fuck her mercilessly, my hand around her throat, my tongue in her mouth, owning her completely. I stop only to take off my clothes. The sight of her laid bare for me, legs spread, chest heaving, eyes wide with lust and fear, it sends me into a frenzy. I grab her legs and flip her so she’s on her stomach, the movement pushes all the air from her lungs and she gasps. I pull her hips up and bury myself inside her, over and over, until her screams turn hoarse and I feel her climax building. I pull her up by her hair and wrap my hand around her throat again, “are you gonna come for me y/n?”, I keep thrusting inside her at a devastating pace, “that’s it, you’re taking me so well, like you were made for me”, she comes apart at that, “good girl” I growl in her ear. I can feel her muscles contracting and it sends me over the edge, my own release coming faster than usual. We stay there for a while, her tight cunt still squeezing my cock, both of us panting as we come down.

She hisses as I pull out, gasping at the soreness between her legs. She’s pliant in my arms and I gently lie her down on her back, her eyes are swimming with curiosity and pain, she’s fighting to stay conscious. All her shields are down, I crumbled every wall and defence she’s built around herself and I relish in the sight. She reaches out and traces lines across my face, until sleep finally takes hold and her arm drops to the mattress. I pull my underwear and joggers back on and head to the bathroom in search of a towel. After cleaning myself up I return to my girl, spreading her legs again to clean her. My erection grows again at the sight of my cum mixed with her blood, the red bite marks covering the inside of her thighs. I quickly clean her up before I decide to break her entirely, and wrap her in a blanket so she can sleep. What is wrong with me? I have a severe need to both shatter and fix her. I need to claim her, own her, I need to understand her, to uncover the darkness that takes over. The only thing I know for sure is that she’s mine, whether she likes it or not.

[xrag-dollx]

Good girls belong under officer's arrest

~Colin Zabel x fem!reader

Summary: Colin was working his nightshift at the department. Meanwhile sexual lust was heavily floating your body. Even though Colin and you made a "no touching without my permission" sort-of pact, you decided to sin, merely for your own pleasure, and you have to pay for that. On that matter, Colin's shift has just begun.

Warnings: smut, a dominant Colin Zabel, masturbating, praising, fingering, orgasm denial, spanking, handcuffing, overstimulating (yes the whole thing)

A/N: pls don't judge me that he lives in missouri bc I have no fuckin clue where this man lives

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

You typed onto the screen of your phone, lying on the sofa in your living room, silence was surrounding you like the darkness, louder than anything else. Your phone screen was the only source that enlightened the room, gently highlighting the features of your face. You pressed the little paperplane on the right corner of your chat to send it to Colin, hoping for a quick answer. The reason for that urgency was because your horniness was engulfing you. Also, you were quite bored.

Well, being patient wasn't easy, especially when you were on your peak of your sexual drive. Ugh, if he only knew. Yet, You and Colin made a kind of pact, no self-touching until he was home. You could feel that tickling feeling of sensation building up in your cute little stomach, and someone needed to quench that thirst of sexual lust. But you were so desperate to have him, to feel him, to kiss him! Of course, his work was his duty but his duty was also to satisfy your needs. (And that was your priority at the moment)

Reading that message let your desperation grow. You let out a silent huff. You basically expected him to be longer at work. Was tonight the right time to sin and let your urges go? Oh fuck it, he wouldn't notice. You began to be befriended with these illicit thoughts, sitting in the mind of yours.

Placing your phone onto the couch table, you made your way upstairs to your bedroom. To get into the right mood, you decided to lit up some scented candles and dimmed the lights.  You took off your clothes almost in a hastily manner, you were undeniably horny as you took off your already soaked panties, the pieces of your fabrics were messy sprawled on the floor. You crawled on top of your king-sized bed, nothing but thoughts of Colin and you were crossing your dirty mind. With open legs, your hand was gently rubbing that sensitive bundle of nerves, your fingers collected your arousal to spread it all over your pulsating cunt. Soft and breathy moans escaped your mouth, your teeth gently bit the lower part of your lip as you enjoyed every thought in your mind and every gentle touch of your hand as your mind dived deep into the savage garden of your blooming fantasy. The door to your bedroom suddenly swung open as it immediately brought you back to your concousness like a harsh slap into your face; without any warning...

"Hey babe I'm ba-"

Colin arrived earlier as you might have expected. He looked at you, obviously in disbelief. The view, so obscene as he saw you  naked on the bed, obviously pleasuring yourself without his consent. His cheeks turned cherry red, his eyebrows raised. Totally stunned he stuttered:

"W-what are you doing?"

Perplexed, you stared at him, as you were totally surprised to see him already, so early.

"baby...you're already back"

You stuttered, words and mind weren't thinking alike, your head was still hazy from the forbidden imagines you planted into your mind earlier.

He stepped in, gently closing the door behind him.

"I guess you forgot about our pact, did you?"

He spoke, standing in front of you as his eyes scanned your bare body with lustful eyes. You knew it turned him on to see you like that, looking at him with big doe eyes would be enough to make him go crazy for you.

"I know, but...I couldn't resist. And you said you'd be away for a while."

You spoke, your big bambi eyes and innocence was the key to make yourself irresistible to him. But you were anything else than innocent to Colin.

"Oooh, don't look at me like that. You know what that means, princess..."

The mattes slightly dipped under his weight. Without any hesitation he pulled your body like a life-sized doll over his lap, your pretty butt faced upwards.

"Hmmh... such a bad girl"

He whispered, as you could feel his warm hand gently gliding over your ass cheeks as it made you squirm under his touch.

"Ugh, C-Colin...baby...I-"

You stuttered but until your unfinished sentence could leave your mouth, his hand smacked your bare ass cheeks, the noise filled the room for a brief moment, a loud moan escaped your throat. Your hands grabbed his thigh in a sudden reflex.

"Shhh princess...shut your sweet little mouth for me. Be a good girl, hm?"

Colin spoke in a low voice as his hand stroke gently the back of your head, his fingers going through your hair, he softly massages your scalp while shivers were creeping down your spine. You nodded, as you obeyed to him. Soft whines escaped your mouth, as you felt that freaking amazing feeling of his fingers gently caressing your scalp.

"Such a good girl..."

Colin cooed while his fingertips made their way so slowly down your back, down your ass cheeks, and stopped between your legs. His fingers got covered by your arousal as you were basically dripping under his grip, a devilish grin got drawn on his lips.

"Hmmh, so wet for me..."

He continued to rub your clit with slow motions, every move was pure ecstasy. He watched you carefully as you got tortured by Colin's teasing, lustful moans escaped your mouth with every move he made.

"Colin...please...I want it ...now"

"Want what? After what you just did?"

He clicked with his tongue as he was slightly amused by your longing desire, his grin still visible on his lips as a low chuckle was stumbling out of his mouth.

"No no, this is not how it's working tonight, princess. You're under my arrest."

He whispered, his breath softly tickled the skin on your ear, your delight grew stronger with every move he did on you.

"Ugh!..."

You groaned, as a sharp and stinging pain hit your blank skin again, this time stronger than previously. Whines left your mouth like a response for more, your fingers tightly crawled onto Colin's thigh, as you desperately tried to grip onto something. Colin showed amusement in slapping the shit out of your delicate skin with his flat palm. Three, four, five harsh slaps followed in a tight row. "Bam! bam! bam!"  The smacking noise echoed through the whole bedroom mixed with a few small yet audible chuckles of Colin, almost madly but in amusement at your whiny behavior. Your ass cheeks, bordeaux red and glowing from the constant assault of Colin's hands, were now painful with the slightest touch, you couldn't even think of sitting the following days. Yet, the permanent hurt was like pleasure linked with the centre of your system of lust. Your arousal was running down your thigh like sweet honey out of a beehive. Colin noticed that, as he was running his hand slowly up and down your thigh, as he stopped for a second, feeling the warm liquid covering his fingers.

"someone's quite needy, hm?"

He spoke with a quiet voice as his fingers trailed the moist line up between your thighs, as it reached your dripping entrance. With a filthy smirk, Colin dipped his pointer finger slowly into your pulsating cunt. You twitched on that action, a few small moans exiting the way out of your mouth in sync to your movements.

"Want more, princess? Beg for it"

He spoke as he gently lied you onto the bed. Colin sat between your legs with hungry eyes as he slowly spread them apart.

You only looked at him with a begging gaze but no words left your sweet mouth.

"C'mon...beg for it"

He demanded, as he was sticking his pointer finger just halfway into you again, his gaze was locked with yours as he carefully watched your body desperately calling for more. Your back lightly arched up from the smooth surface beneath you, sensing the tip of his pointer finger teasing your small centre of pleasure between your legs, which caused you to shiver uncontrollably.

"Hmmmh! Oh gosh, please...Colin...just..."

You stuttered, your delight to give in was unstoppable.

"Yes?...c'mon use your words..."

You were a whimpering mess under his grip, all you wanted was to get finger-fucked by Colin.

"Please...Colin...ugh“

Was all you could mutter underneath your hitching breath. You couldn't bare the painful teasing Colin did to you any longer, so you decided to ease your accumulated high yourself. As soon as you had your hand on your sweet spot, Colin smacked your hand away.

"Nuh-uh, princess! I didn't give you any permission!"

Colin admonished, as he took both of your wrists and placed them firmly above your head with a tight grip.

"Seems like I have to prevent you from your temptations..."

Colin spoke, as he pulled out his handcuffs from the side pocket of his pants. You watched him, cuffing both of your wrists onto the ornated  metal headboard of your king-sized bed. The cold metal embraces your warm flesh in a uncomfortable way. The "click" of his cuffs signaled that you're arrested now, to Colin. And there you are, completely devoted to him and tied onto the bed.

You looked at him with big deer eyes as you were pulling on the cuffs, letting out a few huffs in desperation.

"Hmmngh...Colin!..."

You whimpered, your body was moving around impatiently, waiting for Colin to finally give you what you're craving, but he drew a tough card on you.

"Oh baby, I know what you want...just be...patient"

He spoke, his hands were gliding achingly slow from your torso down to your legs, his eyes followed the same track his hands were gliding,  hungrily devouring your body in a whole. His hands found its end by your legs, as he locked his obsidian-like eyes with yours, basically piercing into your soul. Colin gently spread your legs apart, as he licked his lips, looking eagerly at your dripping entrance like it's a goddamn buffet. You watched him, as you were waiting for him to finally just do something on you, heavy breaths were all you could manage to bring out. He was totally fixed onto your pussy, he slowly brought his pointer finger again to your wet folds, as he was collecting some of your arousal and licking it provocatively off of his finger, he smirked as he was looking at you again, as he knew it would drive you crazy.

"How do you like that, hm princess?"

"Stop it, Colin! J-just fuck me now!"

"You hissed, twitching under the grip of his handcuffs as the harsh noises of metal hitting metal interrupted the silence.

"Shhh..."

Colin cooed, his finger gently entered your soft and pulsating walls while he was watching you, your reaction was pure bliss he was earning. He moved one finger out and entered another finger.

"This is what you want, hm?"

"O-oh...fuck yeah"

You stuttered, as you spread your legs even further in response, your head was thrown back, your breath was going heavier.

"Oh fuck yes baby..."

He had pure joy in seeing you in such a desperate state, as he bit his bottom lip, sliding in his middle and pointer finger into your throbbing cunt, as your wetness was leaking continously out of it. Your response was a drawn out moan.

"Oh princess you want it so much, don't you?"

As he looked at you with a small yet cocky smirk, his fingers were still inside of you, but he didn't keep going until he heard a response of yours. Yeah, he was pretty mean tonight.

„YES!“

You whimmered as you desperately rolled your hip against his fingers.

"Heh...I love how impatient you are...seems like you need to be a little more patient...Just a little bit"

He chuckled, his fingers curled up in a 'come-here' motion, tickling that soft and spongy spot skillfully.

"Ugh! Y-yes yes yes!"

You screamed, as Colin was hitting THAT spot. It was like an itch which needed to be scratched.

"Is it? C'mon, be a good girl for me and scream my name, C'mon!"

He demanded, as his fingers moved in and out in a faster speed, his gaze switched between the heavy panting and twitching mess which you were and your wet pussy, as he heavily fingered your cunt, the lewd squelching noises were filling the air dominantly.

"Oh shit Colin yes yes yes, hmmh.. baby yes!"

You whimpered and your legs began to shake uncontrollably, as Colin's fingers moved in and out of you in an almost brutal speed, causing your body to twitch.

"Daaamn, yes...that's my princess, let me hear it"

He spoke, as he was praising you for the good girl you were. Though he knew you were close to your high, he stopped in the last moment, right on the edge.

"Fuck! Colin I-I was so close!!"

You huffed, your breathing faster than previously, as you furrowed your brows, your agony was immense. You twitched around like crazy, the headboard was slightly moving under your twitches, the cuffs releasing heavy noises by scratching the headboard's metal.

"I hate you!"

You whined, kicking your feet in desperation accompanied with another huff.

"Hmmh...yeah princess, I just like to see you so desperate ya know"

Colin spoke, caressing gently the velvety skin of your leg. He looked at you, his grin was hiding something mischievous and dark eyes observing you lustful. His fingers, slowly entered your pussy again, knuckle-deep.

"Oooohh fuck, yes!"

You screamed, your back bent up from the mattress.

"You get what you want, trust me"

Colin growls, his fingers began to sped up, drilling into you with no mercy hitting that perfect spot again, your legs quivered in response.

'Ohh-f-fuck, Colin!"

You cried out, as it didn't took long and your orgasm was rushing over you like a wave, your whole body electrified and shaking uncontrollably under Colin's grip. You could swear you've seen the stars like you've never seen them before, dancing vividly across your mind. Instead of riding out your desired high, he wouldn't stop at all, penetrating you with the bliss to see you in such a desperate state.

"C-colin...s-stop!! Ugh!"

You mumbled, you couldn't even do anything at all, your wrist was still tied to the headboard which let your frustration grow.

"Hmmngh COLIN!!"

He was chuckling mischievously, biting his bottom lip.

"Oh princess, you should've been a good girl earlier..."

Hearing those words made you huff in response, followed by letting out a small whimper.

"Stop...Colin"

You whined, pleasure was slowly turning into pain, your pussy was aching and slightly burning. Another orgasm wouldn't come up for sure, you felt a little too irritated that your body would refuse to give you any more rush of dopamine.

"There's something missing, princess...c'mon use your words"

Colin spoke, still stroking the inner walls of your pussy with his veiny fingers.

"Ugh...please..."

You whimpered, that one single word was the key to make him stop. It was so damn easy...

"Oh? Did I just hear 'please?"

Colin spoke, as he gently pulled out his fingers, coated with your arousal. He licked them clean while he watched you, provocative and mischievous. Your legs, still quivering as you were lying on the bed, your body felt like it got electrified by a lighting.

"So, doll....lessons learned for tonight, hm?"

He responded, as he removed the cuffs from your wrists, putting them back into the pocket of his pants along with the key. You touched the irritated skin, which had left red marks due to the friction of Colin's handcuffs.

"Well...what if I'd say no?"

You spoke, as you reached for his tie, wrapping it nonchalantly around your wrist as you pulled him towards you with a vicious grin. Your lips met his, engaging them in a hot kiss. He gently cupped your chin, his thumb caressing the smooth skin of yours.

"Hmmmh...it's what you want, hm doll?"

Colin mumbled between kisses, he couldn't hold back a smirk, hearing your response was like an open plea for more.

"Gosh, you're so insatiable..."

He spoke, breaking the kiss between you and him, Colin's warm breath still lingered on your lips like a haunting ghost.

He got up, loosening up the tie around his neck, as he was about to leave the bedroom. He spoke to you:

"I'll have a shower now....And no misbehaving, okay, miss?"

That impish grin of him signaled that you're up for everything.

"Okay "officer" you responded, the "officer" underlined in a sarcastic tone of course, followed with a smirk on your lips.

Tags: @fear-is-truth @feefymo @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re @lacucarachapisser @evanpeterswifeyyy @trueangel420 @evanpeterspeter

《Gifs belong to their owner, xrag-dollx all rights reserved, copying my work is prohibited》

[savnofilter]

Oh wow,,, to be Stain's younger sister and found by Tenya then fucked brutally as savage revenge against your brother

                   tenya iida x [afab] reader

warning(s): sexual content, revenge sex, degradation, dumbification if you squint, reader fucked stupid, hate fucking, begging, cervix trope.

read more: masterlist | student masterlist

a/n: this has sit in my drafts for so long but ive finally thought of an idea. if you dont like rough & mean fucking this not for yew. thank you anon!

your brain felt as though it was turning into mush.

the simple act of keeping your eyes shut only aided slightly in trying to keep yourself from totally losing it. your mouth is agape, drool running down the side of your mouth and your head is hung low. your body rocks violently back and forth as your ass has no choice but to meet the harsh thrusts of the navy blue haired hero behind you.

you couldn't even moan. the force at which his cock piston in-and-out of your sopping cunt was a testament to how much you secretly desired this—despite the circumstances on which why this is happening to begin with.

you had heard him spit something out at you, but you had no more braincells left to respond, much less hear whatever he said. Ingenium's hands gripped at your delicate skin, the taught texture of his gloves creating an uncomfortable sensation similar to a rug burn. each time he brought your back against him, he used his hold on your arms to force you back onto his cock.

"Speech--less, huh?" at least, that's what you think he said. you groan in response, tears brimming at your eyes when you feel him adjust his hips slightly, his length now brushing at your g-spot and now aiming to fit the rest of his cock within your cunt. "Dumb bitch."

after all of these years, you would have thought that you could have been untraceable to your mock-vigilante brother, Stain. which the man had apparently traumatized one of the newest super heroes years ago before he could make a proper name for himself. the man new aged past that point, it's almost ridiculous with how much anger and passion he has to nearly fuck your brains out.

when you came home, that's where Ingenium—the youngest of two brothers—waited for you. he had started patient with before getting aggressive very fast. to be honest you weren't too sure how you ended up with his huge cock stuffed within you, but the outcome was very much appreciated. your brother's actions led you to this point and you're honestly not too sure that you're complaining. except maybe for the fact when you presumably wake up in the morning, you'd be sore all over, nauseous and dirty with all the fluids from tonight.

you whimper trying to signal him that yet another orgasm was about to cum, but he ignored your protests. small sobs escape your lips upon the sensation of his tip now pocking at your cervix at each thrust.

"P..lease!" you slur out. you could feel your walls quiver, your body readying for yet another orgasm brought upon from the man behind you.

as if Ingenium couldn't hear you, or give a fuck, he brings you back against his cock harsher, the impact bringing stars into your vision. a shriek leaves your mouth as you finish once again, a deep shiver racking through body as his pace never lets up. at this rate you weren't sure when he was going to finish.

you just hope that your brother will forgive you if he ever found out...

    all rights reserved © do NOT steal, alter or copy this work.

[hyewka]

STRICTLY PLATONIC [teaser] | choi beomgyu

SUMMARY. fucking your best friend was supposed to be a one time thing in the hopes of relinquishing feelings for your ex, but a one time turned into a weekly and cuddles after sex are way too intimate for your liking. but beomgyu insists that he’d never catch feelings for you, that he’s experienced in these types of arrangements. he still saw you as his best friend! it was totally only platonic for you too… right?

GENRE. smut, fluff, angst, college au, a hyewka fic with plot and structure.. sort of

TEASER WARNINGS. nothing explicit just some marking lol

AUTHOR NOTE. the dream fwb fic ive been wanting to write for ages so thank you to the ask i recently replied to as it was the main motivator for this 😭 this is going to be a long one so we're going the traditional route with a teaser, im opening a tag list so if you wish to be added send an ask or comment!

You’ve never seen Choi Beomgyu in a different light. That’s what you liked about him, that everything was so… constant. Your life could crash and burn but hey, Beomgyu was still Beomgyu— your friendship was a variable in your life that stayed undeniably the exact same.

You know, until you allowed him to fuck your brains out.

Even the sole fact that you have given the thought of Beomgyu being a ‘sex symbol’ has you quivering out of sheer horror— Beomgyu… has never been a sex symbol. Sure, he fucked around, and has a reputation and yeah sure, he was crazy hot when he isn’t showing signs of extreme sleep deprivation …but you’ve just never seen him in that light.

And to have let it simmer in your thoughts for longer than a second, makes you just a tinge hesitant in letting the silly goof pull you into the dancing crowd. You whine, “I’m tired Beomgyu! My heels are killing me.”

He either doesn’t hear over the blasting music or isn’t going to give it up because he pulls you in anyway, crashing your head right into his chest and you let out an instinctual ouch at the hard surface. Your eyes are wide looking up at him, sputtering out an unbelievable sentence. “Have you—have you been working out?”

His grin widens, holding up your arm to guide at feeling out his biceps. “Every now and then.” He doesn’t mind the minute it takes you to actually feel every muscle through his shirt, in fact he’s relishing in your sudden pique of interest in his body.

Whether he’s flexing them or not doesn’t show in his face—he looks completely relaxed and you finally admit—Beomgyu is getting toned.

“Why? You hate working out.” You could barely muffle those words with the way he had you engulfed in his arms, leaning his head in your neck, swaying side to side as if the song blasting was off of Taylor Swift’s Lover and not a Lil Wayne remix.

And he hasn’t even gotten a drop of alcohol yet.

But it’s true, Beomgyu hated the gym. Like, even more than you did. Which is a testament in and of itself.

He pulls away from the crook of your neck, a pout on his lips. “Didn’t you say your type was muscular men? At Halloween weekend?”

Halloween weekend was a year ago, the first frat party you managed to get into with the help of Beomgyu’s friend, Jake. You barely remember anything from it. Other than the occasional retells of the nights by Yunjin’s words, which are always a different version of the same story... so a not very credible source. “I mean, I guess they are. But what does that have to do with anything?”

“I don’t know, just saying. Jaehyun was suuper muscly.” Okay, the random mention of your ex…maybe he had some drop of alcohol.

“Are you drunk?”

“You took too long to come back, lost at beer pong.”

“How many shots?” you interrogate.

“Two.” At your suspecting glare, he continues on, “Four…five…like, at most seven.”

Your eyes bulge out, huffing out a scoff. You guys always got wasted together! Noticing the furrow of your brows he holds you tighter whining, “I know I know, sorry, I tried telling Heeseung but he’s a savage cruel man, I was practically force fed that cup.”

You don’t doubt that he attempted to persuade Heeseung but you do doubt the force feeding, it only takes a couple nudges before getting Beomgyu to drink. “I’m just slightly tipsy, not drunk yet anyway. I pledged to never ever get trashed without you. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

You slap away the hand he puts up over his chest, incredulously, losing your control over the fits of giggles when he takes your flying hand in his, taking advantage by intertwining your fingers together. “What are you doing?” your cheeks probably hurt from all the smiling, you don’t know, you think your nerves are numb.

“Can’t a guy hold his twin flame, platonic best friend’s hand?”

Skinship was not an unfamiliar with Beomgyu—he was always a naturally clingy guy. You figured when the first ever official lunch hangout you’ve had with the boy and a few of your other friends, had included a lot of random footsie.

You didn’t even know him that well in high school. Who plays footsie with an acquaintance? Choi Beomgyu, that’s who. Yet even after some reluctance that day, you end up letting him have his childish, sort of endearing fun.

Though this was all but childish, the innocently mischievous twinkle of a scrawny teenage boy had been long gone, instead replaced by the most attractive man’s hungry, lust filled gaze. “Who told you to look so sexy today?”

The theme was Angel & Devil—to match with Beomgyu, you insisted on giving him the angel outfit, and you the costume of a devil. Matching was always the fun part of these parties. “Only today?” you drawl, making an exaggerated sultry trail with your finger on his chest.

“God, shut up, you know you’re always hot,” You don’t expect the seriousness of his tone, especially when you were just teasing, but he snakes his hand around your waist, pushing you further into his body, your tits suffocatingly pressed against his chest.

You do not expect the slight squeeze to your ass, your eyes shooting particularly wide, blood rushing up to trickle your cheeks. “But I like it when you’re a little devil, makes you so sexy and alluring.”

His face buried into your neck again, this time not missing the chance of taking a deep inhale. Beomgyu could stay like this forever, filling his lungs with you, and only you. “Still can’t believe I had my hands off you for so long little devil.” Your eyes flutter shut, taking quick breaths as he moves his soft lips to your neck, wet kisses with a slip of teeth nibbling just slightly to tease, planning on coloring you with all the pretty purple hues.

And you’re sure he was well on his way until you sober up at the abrupt change in the DJ’s track.

“Beomgyu, not—not now, we’re in public.” And surrounded by tons of people that you’re either friends with or know. That broke one of the most important pillars of your agreement—to keep the fuck buddies ‘thing’ a secret.

You don’t expect the speed of his instant pull away when processing your words, blinking his pretty lashes and the tipsiness away—his doe eyes are too much of a weakness, the little furrow of his brows something you desperately want to kiss and smoothen out. “Oh. Oh yeah. Sorry.” he scratches the back of his neck, genuinely apologetic.

And eats away at you. You know Beomgyu well—he hates keeping things secret, he’s the type of person to flaunt relationships all over his feed in that lovesick puppy way that most women could only dream of having—but you weren’t dating. And that was the boundary set.

You didn’t ask him to pull away completely though, but here you were, awkwardly as distanced as you could be in the middle of a rager with sweaty college students rubbing their bodies against each other. As gross as that was, you zero’d in on something less of a given: the fact that you’ve never felt this way with Beomgyu. Ever. It was like you were starring in the most awkward coming of age indie movie, y’know, without the crazy scenery and cinematography.

And more often than not, you find that these occurance of realisations, become more and more frequent. You feel things you’ve never felt a certain way with Beomgyu. Which only brought you to realize something else; Beomgyu was now a changing variable in your life and you’re not entirely sure how to handle that.

[elliemarchetti]

Eris Week Day 6: AU/Retellings

Inspired by one of @foxcort’s unhinged prompts because I couldn’t resist although I’m not totally out of my writing/Tumblr hiatus yet. Hope my contribution to @erisweekofficial will still be appreciated even if it’s in Cassian’s POV.

Disclaimer: I know some of you will see this more as Cassian's self-pitying account of an event that highlights his inadequacy as a mate, but in my eyes it's an excerpt of the happy life that awaits Eris and Nesta once her contacts with the Night Court will be reduced to a minimum, only from the point of view of someone who will remain in the past. Still, and for this I turn to the admins of Eris Week, if you find it inadequate for any reason you have every right not to reblog it and I won't bear you any grudge. You guys are amazing, and when my life will be a little more normal I can't wait to read everything that's been written and show some love to all the wonderful fanarts I'm sure the artists have made.

Plot: The Lord of Bloodshed is having the worst time of his life. The heir of Autumn can’t really say the same. This is the famous scene at the Court of Nightmares reimagined with a totally different plot for the whole last book so if it doesn’t really make sense, I’m sorry.

Rating: Explicit

Words: 1529

When the next song began, its notes lighter, the steps easier than the ones they had just engaged in, Nesta didn’t hesitate to take Eris’s hand. She seemed eager, like her partner wasn’t the monster they all told her about but just a good dancer who instinctively knew her body screamed to do those extra, solo turns that had catalysed the attention of the whole room. Cassian realized he wouldn’t have let her go, too worried about the impractical design of her dress, too apprehensive she was drunk on the music and not paying enough attention to her surroundings to succeed.  If he had been in Eris’s place, he would’ve scolded her by the end of the music, dragging her off the dancefloor, while the heir of Autumn studied her with his amber eyes as they chatted amiably, chuckles audible here and there. The General couldn’t hear everything they said, but as they got closer he caught a few scraps, words that made the blood in his veins boil.

“… I didn’t see this side of you…”

He wasn’t smiling, but she met his stare anyway as she responded, suave and flirty. She never spoke to Cassian in that tone, always composed, almost defensive, in the rare occasions their topic hadn’t revolved around training or the thousand obligations they were subjected to due to their roles. Maybe it was because he had never spun her, never murmured sweet nothings in her ear, sentences so refined her mouth twitched to one side. Unable to witness more, he turned to Mor, who watched from beside Feyre and Rhys, her face neutral and aloof. He couldn’t imagine how she was feeling, knowing she was the one who taught Nesta those steps.

“Are you inquiring after my eligibility?” Cassian heard Eris joke, his sharp smile turning into a full-on silky laugh at her reply. As it often happened, he felt inadequate in his vulgarity, in his lack of grace. A brute, as the eldest of the Vanserras liked to define him. There was no room for someone like him by the side of a female capable of carrying a political meeting on her inexperienced shoulders and tear someone’s head from their neck in the same week. That duality, the savage rage and silver fire mixed with a beauty able to bring kings to their knees was too much for him, no matter how many times he had claimed her as his, yet his feet moved instinctively, and he reached the pair at the very end of the waltz, trying to ignore how his tapered fingers had descended into the hollow of her bare back or how her cheeks were flushed.

“Move,” Cassian said coldly, halting their private moment. He stood before them amid the sea of people cradled in black, just another piece of Night, until Eris stared at him down his straight nose, ignoring the burning violence oozing from the warrior’s hazel eyes.

“Go sit at your master’s feet, dog,” he hissed, teeth bared, but Nesta was quick to interject, accepting her mates unspoken offer.

“We’ll play later, Nesta Archeron,” the fireling retorted, putting too much emphasis on her last name for Cassian’s liking, before aiming for the dais. For an instant, really just the time of the song, the General deluded himself that he had won, that he could somehow be the knight in shining armour of the story, the hero who saves the princess from the villain and thus obtains her hand and eternal, unconditional love. Those empty illusions were shattered when he followed her into the dark and suffocating corridors of the Court of Nightmares, when he watched her slender figure enter the chamber assigned to Eris for the duration of his visit, her steps cautious and silent as a cat’s. She barely glanced at the slightly ajar door, too focused on her lover’s eager embrace, and Cassian clenched his jaw at the portrait of carefree happiness.

“You’re tickling me!” she giggled as the snake peppered her neck with light kisses, the sound like a harp strumming high and sweet. From his hiding spot, Cassian saw his nemesis’ half-smile widen as he hooked a finger under one of her dress’ straps and pulled, flooding him with pounding, vibrating jealousy. He had to remind himself to breathe when the silk slid down her chest, briefly exposing one of her breasts before Eris could sweep her to the bed, the impalpable skirt mostly gathered between her parted legs, firmly clutched around his waist. As he feasted on her exposed skin, her body went loose and taunt in so many different places Cassian didn’t know where to focus: she was bent and shaped and directed by her lover, her widened pupils hiding under long lashes thanks to the skill of the fingertips massaging her core. The ghosts of nearly faded love bites revealed themselves on the lower part of her ass as she arched her back in ecstasy and Cassian’s face went slack. It wasn’t him who left those marks on her, the memory of the sleepless night spent together forever imprinted in his memory, so she could only have had other partners, or maybe she had previously entertained herself between Eris’ sheets, protocol be damned. The matter quickly slipped out of his mind when the smell of her arousal flowed and swam around him, clouding his senses as she melted under someone else’s touch. There wasn’t enough space inside him, not in his mind or his heart, for what the situation made him feel, he just knew he was hard under his trousers, his body ready to honour and worship someone he had been unable to keep up with when he had the chance.

He was about to leave to deal with his shame when their gazes met. He would have expected those merciless and cold eyes to pin him to the spot, he supposed she would scream in anger, or perhaps warn Eris with quiet disdain that some beast beneath them was spying on their tryst, but instead her irises glimmered and she let out a moan, her flawless red lips, sin personified, parted to draw a likewise perfect O. As if awakened by that sound, her lover crawled back to her mouth, his hands busy undoing his pompous clothing. Cassian knew what was about to happen, he had watched and performed this dance for centuries, in the frenzy of inexperienced youth and in the blind search for solace when the need was too much. He had fucked females on all fours like some kind of wild animal, knees hurting on marble floors and feet losing their grips in the mud, in a foolish attempt to fill the void left by Nesta, but no one showed on their features the pure, feral delight that crashed on his mate’s face when Eris entered her all at once, like a conqueror of death, glowing as he devoured moonlit skin and shared heartbeats. Between one fast thrust and the next, he lifted Nesta’s arms above her head, their matching rings glinting as if lit by an inner fire. He guided her through the orgasm with ease and they came together, a rising cacophony of panting and groaning.

“I hope you’re with child,” he whispered, his words so shocking they made Cassian audibly gasp. There was no way he hadn’t heard the sound, even lost in his unchecked, dark joy, yet he decided to ignore it.

"Why so?" she murmured seductively, gleaming with wanton desire as she drank in his expression, whatever it was. She didn’t seem to object the idea, nor she sounded eager to postpone it as long as she could.

“It would give us an excuse to speed up the organization of this wedding. I know my father wants it to exude power, to convey all the strength of our family, and my mother wishes for every detail to be perfect, but I’m growing tired of this façade,” he replied honestly, then lovingly erased a smudge of kohl from the corner of her left eye, a remark of the familiarity they shouldn’t have had yet.

“She has no daughters and I have no mother,” she pointed out, amazing Cassian with the nonchalance she used to address her traumatic past. “Let her have fun.”

“I know, and I will never show even a hint of displeasure when she will inevitably take you away for the whole day to pick the best party favours and select the optimal spot to best showcase the sheer magnitude of the orchestra you so wisely selected, but the only thing I aspire to is to finally be able to get away from the intrigues and the backstabbing for a while, to travel wherever we want and show you all the wonders Prythian and the Continent has to offer,” he confessed, and Nesta kissed him again, dangling her love and triumph in Cassian’s face, a silent dismissal to whatever his role had been in her night.

Slowly, the fearsome Lord of Bloodshed retreated in the shadow, engulfed in a cocoon of grief and rage at the Mother’s mistake, the sound of his shattering heart deafening in his eardrums.

[acapelladitty]

can you write something homelander being all submissive and pleading with butcher?

with a cherry on top

Pairing: Billy Butcher/Homelander

Summary: Billy Butcher wants something and Homelander is going to give it to him.

(tw: humiliation, dom/sub dynamics, boot kink, mild painplay, begging, handjob, mild cbt, swearing, smut)

Fic Masterlist

Link To AO3

The game, or whatever the fucked up dynamic that had bloomed and constantly reared its head to play out between them was called, had captured both men once again and Butcher hated how trapped his stiff cock felt against his jeans as he glared down at the blonde kneeling submissively between his feet.

"Way I see it, you have two choices here, cunt. You can either beg nicely for ol' Billy to sort you out right good, or you can keep that hole of yours all locked up and I think I'll just shoot off in your face and scamper. What'd ya think?"

His face flush with predatory arousal, every feature narrowed and sharp with the exception of his mouth as it hung slack with unchecked need, Homelander seemed incapable of verbalising any decision on his part as his words struggled to escape a rapidly-swallowing throat.

"I said," Butcher continued, lifting his heavy boot from the ground and placing the thick tread atop the unmistakable tent of Homelander's groin, "I wanna hear it. Don't tell me some cunt's got your tongue now. Can't shut you the fuck up most of the time."

The pressure of Butcher's leather boot pressing down on his neglected cock was almost too much for Homelander and his spine curled forward as he barely restrained the urge to buck his hips into the rough touch like a desperate whore.

"I could kill you."

His voice coming out an octave higher than he would have liked, Homelander licked his tongue sharply across his chapped lips. Inhaling, the woody scent of fresh sweat and cheap colonge made his head spin - the masculine smell of Butcher only tainted by the nasty aroma of some medicated balm that he had slathered some part of himself in.

Butcher, in fair response to the death threat, only pushed his boot down harder at the hissed words and Homelander couldn't hold back the stuttering growl which slipped free of his lips as his brow fell into an open scowl, anger and arousal warring for dominance of his handsome features.

"Sorry, what? Couldn't hear ya over the sound of you moaning like a cheap slag who puts out her hole for a packet of fags and some bacardi breezers."

Not really sure what those were, Homelander's expression flicked with confusion for a moment before falling into undisguised arousal once more as Butcher dropped to his haunches before him and replaced the stiff tread of his boot with his palm - his fingers cupping at Homelander's cock with so much pressure that it would have made a lesser man scream.

"Beg." Butcher repeated, his thick brows also furrowed into a scowl that brooked no argument as he savagely squeezed at Homelander's cock, knowing that the supe could take whatever he dished out.

Homelander, gasping and shuddering as his spine curled further forward with the discomfort, did exactly as told while a hot flush of shame painted his neck a lovely pink colour.

"Please."

Feigning ignorance, Butcher used his free hand to cup at his ear. "What was that?"

"William, please."

Using the familiar name, one so often dripping his absolute contempt for the arrogant fuck, Homelander winced at the total lack of any malice as he listened to his own whining plead.

"Please what? Don't tell me all that v running through your veins has made you stupid as all fuck. Let's hear it for daddy, sweetheart."

"Please, touch me." Homelander growled, the humiliation only adding to the painful arousal of his cock as his length twitched in Butcher's merciless hand. "Pull my cock out and, fuck, touch me. Please."

Surprisingly, Butcher complied and Homelander groaned as his cock was quickly snatched free of his suit and exposed to the cool air. Bearing only the slightest of reddened marks from where Butcher had dug his fingers in, his cock stood proudly as it jutted free of the healthy blonde pubes which ringed its base.

"Harder than an elephants tusk, eh? Well, ain't that a shame."

"William." Snapping the name like a slur, the slightest hint of amber flexed in the steely blue depths of Homelander's eyes as he once more was the subject of Butcher's humiliation. "If you don't-"

Forcing two of his fingers into Homelander's mouth, the action forcing Homelander to cough and flex his tongue against the thick invaders as his words were cut short, Butcher pressed his digits down until Honelander had relaxed past his initial panic.

"Shut the fuck up, pretty boy."

With a cheshire grin, Butcher indulged himself. His fingers keeping their iron grip against Homelander's jaw and tongue, his other hand circled around the base of Homelander's cock - fingers squeezing together roughly as he rubbed his dry hand along the length. It wasn't supposed to be bliss, his harshness and lack of lube making the friction almost painful, but Homelander writhed in place as his hips jerked of their own accord to push himself harder into Butcher's fist.

"That's right, fuck yourself daft, lad. It's all you'll be getting from me."

Butcher hissed the words, his head feeling light from just the sheer amount of power which thrunned through his veins as he held this dangerous creature in the palm of his hand. Literally. His own cock felt painfully trapped, every slight shift of his body making his length brush against the inside of his jeans like a lovers tease.

Oh, fuck this.

"I'm going to pull my fingers free of your mouth." Butcher explained, loosening his grip of Homelander's cock enough to allow the other man to pick up the pace slightly - a few strands of his blonde hair having fallen across his damp forehead. "And then I'm gonna replace them with something much bigger and almost as clean. If I catch even a brush of those teeth then I'll rip your cock off with my bare hands and use it to hang my bathroom towels. You hear me?"

Eyes glazed and dulled, his willful submission sending him to a docile place which made him a much more agreeable cunt than anything Butcher could hope for, Homelander nodded around his fingers and whined as Butcher's hand left his cock.

Butcher's hands were as steady as a surgeons as he stood to unzip his fly and a fresh smirk settled on his chapped hips as he set about giving the maniac who knelt at his knees something to really chew on.