#my heart aches and it screams into the abyss

[bcyoureallthatmakessense]

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[ja3yun]

The Doll House | Drabble: Kill for You

demon/doll!heeseung x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, creampie, no prep, handcuffs, blood kink, biting, death, gore, blood, knife, not-proofread, anything else lmk wc: 4.3k synopsis: when you wake up in hell handcuffed and scared, there is only one prince of hell that can save you a/n: based off this ask! this is just something quick i did and isn't my best but i have so many people asking for more tdh drabbles that i though i would cave <3 this one is not as bad as i think it is but there is a lot of blood and heeseung rips a man apart so...be warned. reblogs, likes, feedback, and comments are all welcome! (this could also be read as a stand alone?? idk)

the doll house masterlist

Your eyes flutter open, the lids heavy and sticky as if glued together. The throbbing in your head is relentless, a pounding pain that seems to echo in the very marrow of your bones. Your mouth is dry, parched as if you've been wandering in a desert, and the air is stifling, thick with a heat that makes it hard to breathe. The oppressive warmth is suffocating, pressing down on you with an intensity that speaks of more than just physical discomfort - it feels like the very essence of torment.

You try to lift a hand to your aching head, but your arm refuses to move. Panic sets in as you realise your wrists are restrained, bound by cold, unyielding metal. The sound of chains rattling echoes through the dimly lit room, a harsh realisation of your imprisonment. Your eyes dart upwards, following the chain to where your wrists are shackled to a pole above your head. The cuffs dig into your skin, a painful nip that serves as a concluding punctuation to your negative thoughts - somehow you’ve been kidnapped.

The heat is overwhelming, a furnace-like blaze that sears your skin and fills your lungs with each laboured breath. The air is thick with the acrid stench of sulphur and burning flesh, a scent that is all too familiar, a contrast between the land of the living and this infernal abyss floods back to you with terrifying clarity. You've been here before.

This is Hell.

The memory of past encounters with demons and the stark Your heart races, pounding against your ribcage as adrenaline surges through your veins. Each time you have been dragged to hell it has been at the hands of Heeseung, to show you his world or try and entice you into making a deal. Yet, he has never gone as far as this.

Every cell in your body screams for release, for salvation from this nightmarish reality. The heat seems to amplify your fear, each beat of your heart a desperate cry for help.

Suddenly, you hear footsteps approaching, each one a heavy thud that reverberates through the chamber. The temperature seems to rise even further, if that's possible, and the smell intensifies, a rancid mix of decay and coal. The sound sends a new wave of dread coursing through you. You strain against your bonds, but the metal holds firm, cutting into your flesh.

“Heeseung, I swear this isn’t funny!” you shout as you hear him approach, ensuring your discontentment with his actions is conveyed.

The door creaks open, and in the dim light, a hulking silhouette appears. Much to your surprise and heartache, it isn’t Heeseung who strides through the doorway but rather someone else, a demon you presume, his eyes glowing with a malevolent light. His gaze locks onto you, burning with an intensity that matches the inferno around you. He moves closer, each step a reminder of your vulnerability, each moment a testament to your peril.

"Heeseung? Is that what he’s going by now?" The demon speaks with an uninterested sigh, his voice dripping with disdain.

The demon strides towards you in a lazy, almost leisurely manner, as though he has all the time in the world. With you locked up here, chained to a rusty pole, he might just have an eternity. Despite the terror gripping your heart, you can’t help but notice his appearance. The sight is far from unpleasant; his chiselled abs and defined v-line momentarily distract you. It’s a poor excuse, but in the face of such danger, you’re just a girl.

He stops before you, towering over your bound form, his presence overwhelming. The heat radiating from his body adds to the already suffocating warmth of the room. You can feel the tension in the air, a palpable mix of fear and fascination. The demon’s handsome features contrast starkly with the darkness of his intentions, a cruel reminder of your predicament.

"I do forget how easily impressed you humans are," he smirks, rubbing a hand over his toned stomach. "Do you like what you see? I wore it just for you."

You shudder at his words but can’t help a small, begrudging gratitude that at least his current human appearance is more settling than the hideous creature you imagine lurks beneath. In scenarios like this, you must take the good with the bad.

"Who are you? What do you want with me?" The questions tumble out, driven by desperation. As far as you know, you’re insignificant to anyone but your two beautiful dolls back home.

The demon scoffs, rolling his eyes as he turns his back on you. "Don’t flatter yourself. You hold nothing of value to me," he chides, his tone dripping with scorn. He licks his lips, then twists his head to look over his shoulder, his eyes piercing into yours. "But you mean a lot to someone I need to speak with."

You scrunch your brows in confusion, his statement only adding more questions. It can’t be Jaeyun he needs to gain the attention of—no one knows about him or his should-be guardian ways. Sunghoon is just a soldier, and most people believe he’s still locked away in his cell. That leaves Jongseong or Heeseung.

The demon picks something up from a table in the room and drifts back over to you, his eyes an eerie shade of red wine. The object glints ominously in the dim light, and your heart skips a beat as you realise it’s a dagger, its blade sharp and cruel.

“You see,” he says, his voice soft yet menacing, “sometimes, to get someone’s attention, you need to send a message they can’t ignore.”

Your pulse quickens, panic bubbling up inside you. “Who do you need to speak with?” you ask, your voice trembling.

The demon chuckles darkly, tracing the blade of the dagger along your cheek, not cutting but letting the cold metal press against your skin. “Oh, you’ll see soon enough. Just know that your pain will be his torment.”

The cryptic words hang in the air, each one a dagger of its own, slicing through your hopes. The demon’s intentions are clear: you are a pawn in a game of unimaginable stakes, a tool to be used and discarded. And as the heat of the room continues to rise, your desperation grows, knowing that every passing moment draws you closer to a fate you can’t escape.

There is a nauseous feeling in your body, your chest heaving with the rapid beat of your heart as the demon brings the blade to your arm, pressing deep into your flesh. The sharp pain sears through you, and a scream rips from your throat, echoing through the hellish chamber. Blood wells up around the blade, trickling down your skin and staining the metal a dark crimson.

The demon watches with a twisted satisfaction, his eyes glinting with delight. But just as he seems ready to inflict more pain, the door swings open with a casual creak, and Heeseung strolls in, his presence commanding and nonchalant.

"Lay another mark on her, I dare you," Heeseung says, his voice calm but carrying a dangerous edge.

Heeseung’s words exhibit boredom as if your life isn’t on the line. Yet, you know him well enough now to recognise that the darting of his doll-like eyes from your face to your injury is enough to show you he cares; he wouldn’t be here otherwise.

Instinctively, your body tries to run to the comfort of Heeseung despite his unkindness to you in the past. Even if he has instilled fear in your body, manipulating and coaxing you to do things you wish never to speak of, he is still a place of solace, your body and soul drawn to him as though he were a magnetic field.

“I was wondering if you would show,” the demon smiles widely, a stark contrast to the sadistic pleasure he showed with you moments ago.

“I’m not here for you; I’m here for my girl,” Heeseung explains casually, shrugging his shoulders. Yet, you don’t miss the tensed fists just behind his back. It makes your heart skip a beat to know that somewhere in that non-existent heart of his, he cares and will try his best to get you out of this.

Amusingly nodding, the demon chuckles lowly. “I know, this pretty little thing was the only way to reach you. She calls and you answer, how cliché.”

Heeseung's gaze sharpens, his eyes narrowing as he steps forward, a slow and deliberate movement that radiates power. "You’ve had your fun. Now it’s over. Release her, and I might consider letting you leave here in one piece."

The demon’s smile falters for a moment, but he quickly recovers, trying to maintain his bravado. “And if I don’t? What then, Heeseung? Are you going to risk everything for this human?”

Heeseung’s eyes flash with a dangerous light. “You misunderstand the situation. It’s not a risk for me; it’s a certainty for you. Lay another mark on her, and you’ll find out exactly what happens when someone crosses me.”

The demon hesitates, the confidence draining from his face. He glances at you, bound and injured, and then back at Heeseung, weighing his options. The room grows unbearably tense, the oppressive heat pressing down on you like a physical weight. You’ll never complain about a sauna ever again.

The blood from your arm drips onto the floor with each passing moment, your eyes pleading with Heeseung to make all of this end as quickly as possible. A small smirk flashes on his face and disappears just as quickly, assuring you that he has a plan.

When the demon makes no move, Heeseung speaks up again, his voice deadly calm. “Tell me why you’ve called me here before I tear you apart.”

The demon sneers, trying to muster some of his lost bravado. "You've been so busy playing dolls that you’ve forgotten you have an army to run."

Heeseung’s eyes flash with anger, his smirk turning cold and dangerous. "So you put my love in danger because I'm not holding your hand? Are you all that fucking incompetent that you can't do your job?"

My love. You’re eyes widen slightly at the endearing term. There is a part of you that wonders if he means it, if the phrase that rolled so easily off his tongue was heartfelt or just another branch to add to his plotting plan. Hearing your heartbeat fasten with fear and adoration, Heeseung knows you registered his words and yet he doesn’t care.

“We are doing our job yet you’re fucking around with angels and bitches like her,” the man spits, holding the knife with determination. Any second now, the blade could be pierced into one of your main arteries, rendering you dead in a matter of minutes as you stay hanging helplessly against the pole.

“Call her that again. I dare you,” Heeseung snarls, walking closer to the man. His actions strike fear into you because what if one more footstep is the difference between life and death for you? 

As the demon goes to speak once again, his jaw locks and his tongue pulses as though he is choking. He suddenly drops the knife, much to your relief, clinging to his throat as if that will somehow allow much-needed oxygen to pass into his lungs.

Heeseung’s eyes flash a vibrant red, an innocent grin working its way across his cheeks. “What’s wrong? Can’t speak?” The feigned concern in his words makes your body crawl, his sinister actions unsettling you, even as a secret part of you loves it.

Perhaps it’s the fact that after this, you’ll be clear of danger and you can get out of this. Another part is pure vengeance. In hell, you feel the sins inside you heighten: lust, greed, wrath, you name it. Every bad part of you calls to be released.

Suddenly, Heeseung lunges forward, gripping the demon's throat as his fingers sink in with force until the man's face begins to turn blue. The pressure is immense, veins bulging as the demon struggles for air, his eyes wide with terror. Heeseung’s grip tightens even further, his nails piercing the skin, drawing dark, thick blood that oozes down the demon’s neck.

Heeseung’s fingers dig deeper, the demon’s gurgling attempts at speech becoming more desperate. Blood pours from the wounds, splattering onto the floor in gruesome pools. Heeseung’s grin widens, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. With a sudden, violent motion, he tears into the demon’s throat, his fingers piercing through flesh and muscle with a sickening squelch.

The demon’s eyes roll back, his body convulsing as Heeseung's grip tightens further. With a final, brutal yank, Heeseung rips the throat from the demon's body, the detached flesh dangling grotesquely from his hand. Blood sprays in an arc, coating the floor, walls, and over you and the Prince of hell, the metallic scent mixing with the sulphurous air.

The demon’s body collapses to the ground, twitching and spasming as it rapidly loses the battle for life. Heeseung casually tosses the mangled throat aside, wiping his bloodied hands on his trousers with a look of disdain. But he isn’t finished. Heeseung’s eyes glow with a fierce intensity as he crouches over the still-twitching body. With merciless precision, he plunges his hand into the demon's chest, feeling around for the pulsating heart. The demon’s mouth opens in a silent scream, his body arching in agony.

“You’re a fool to pick a human suit, this is too easy,” he laughs, staring crazily into your attacker's eyes.

Closing his fingers around the heart and with a feral growl, Heeseung bursts the main organ before he rips it from the chest cavity. Blood gushes out in torrents, the heart still beating weakly in Heeseung’s grip. He holds it aloft for a moment, his expression one of savage triumph, before crushing it in his hand, the remnants of the heart splatter onto the floor, a macabre testament to his power and strength.

Never bring a knife to a demon fight.

Lying lifeless, a broken, bloody shell of himself, the demon remains still, finally moving on from the pain. Heeseung stands, wiping his hand on the demon’s clothes with an air of finality, his lips upcurled in disgust. It’s been a while since he got his hands dirty but he has to set an example to the other soldiers of his legions. If he starts getting soft now, they’ll eventually overrun him. 

Turning back to you, Heeseung’s expression softens slightly, though the remnants of his violent act still linger in his eyes. “What the fuck happened, Y/N?” he asks annoyed, as if you were the one that asked for any of this to happen.

“I-I don’t know, just please get me out of here,” you stutter, your mind still trying to process the nightmare it just witnessed. Watching a man be brutally torn apart before your eyes has left you shaken to the core.

Sighing softly, Heeseung’s gaze sweeps over your body, his attention fixed on the wound on your arm. With careful deliberation, he reaches out and gently takes hold of your arm, his face drawing nearer to inspect the injury.

His touch is surprisingly gentle, contrasting sharply with the violence you’ve just witnessed. The warmth of his hand against your skin feels oddly comforting, a reassuring anchor in the midst of chaos. Heeseung’s expression softens, a flicker of concern crossing his features as he examines the wound.

“I’ll take care of this,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing contrast to the lingering tension in the air. He leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin as he carefully inspects the cut.

What you don’t expect is for his tongue to run over the slit, collecting the blood that streams from it. At first, your face is horrified, the ministration causing your stomach to churn, yet, as he laps up your wound, you feel relief, his muscle easing the sting and allowing your arm to relax, even if only slightly.

Heeseung is engrossed in the taste, the sweet metallic now overpowering all of his senses, and the sensory overload rushes directly to his cock. His member twitches in his pants as it begs to be released, Heeseung’s arousal flowing through his body, so much so that between each healing lick he is moaning out profanities.

Your body gets hot as you hear him get off over the taste of your crimson nectar. There is a first for everything but you never thought one day you would be in hell, handcuffed to a pole, and have Beelzebub exploring his blood kink right in front of you.

“You taste so good, Baby,” he whispers, his attention finally drawing from your arm to your face. 

It is at this moment that he sees the perfect opportunity. You, who are so determined to never lay with Heeseung again, refusing to cheat on your precious puppies, are all tied up and in the perfect position. 

Once you catch that desire-driven look on his face, you squirm slightly, attempting to free yourself from the restraints. But what Heeseung interprets as defiance is actually reciprocation. There's an undeniable thrill in seeing him defend you, dismantle your tormentor with a ferocity that leaves him splattered in blood - it makes you ache with need, your pussy crying in lust. You yearn to break free from these confines and throw yourself at him.

"You're so vulnerable, darling. What if I hadn't answered your calls?" he murmurs, his crimson-stained hands already unfastening the buttons of your jeans. You whimper as his fingers hover tantalisingly close to where you crave his touch. “You were screaming for me earlier, do you think you could do it again?”

His question is loaded, a subtle way to ask for your consent. He wants to make sure as much as he would love to just ravage you right here without a care in the world, he understands - even as a prince of hell - that he would be no better than the dead demon beside you if he took what he wanted without asking.

Swallowing your guilt and pride, you nod, finally giving in to him after months of cat and mouse. “I’ll scream hell down,” you whisper, keeping an intense stare on him.

It’s all the go-ahead he needs before he’s yanking down your Levis and panties, leaving you bare on your bottom half. Hurriedly, the prince frees his cock, stroking it a few times. “You can take it with no prep, right, sweetheart? Or are those dolls not fucking you good enough.”

You whimper in protest, the biting metal against your skin almost painful as your body yearns to be close to his, rattling them harshly as you try to break free. The mention of your lovers goes unheard as you disregard what he's saying and any guilt you should feel. Lust and impatience pulse through your veins, overwhelming all other emotions.

His bloody hands grip your thighs, harshly guiding your legs to wrap around him as he puppeteers you into place. Despite your lack of words, Heeseung takes your mewls of need as the go-ahead to delve in without working you open. Truthfully, Heeseung’s cock is a lot bigger than Jaeyun’s or Sunghoon’s, so prepping you would have been a great thing to ask for, but as your cunt leaks onto his stiff shaft, you know as well as he does that there is no time to be wasted, both of you craving this as much as the other.

With one harsh thrust, he plummets into you, the stretch from his girth both agonising and pleasurable. The pain heightens your experience, his cock bottoming inside you, eliciting a half-moan, half-shriek. You hate to admit it but you missed his cock and how you can feel the veins drag along your walls.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby. Are they really not fucking you?” he lefts out a sharp laugh before moving his hips in a steady rhythm. “You needed my cock, didn’t you?” 

Responding with fervent affirmations of "yes," your knuckles turn white as you clench your fists, yearning to touch him, feeling his smooth, doll skin yield beneath your nails. You needed his cock more than anything, all those times of pushing him away and deflecting your desires, this was a long time coming.

He grips your hips tightly as you hang there helplessly, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he finds a harsh pace that sends butterflies in your stomach. He missed being inside of you, feeling how your walls hug him tight as your body overcomes with bliss. 

Suddenly, his lips meld with yours, causing his rhythm to momentarily falter until he adjusts, finding the perfect angle to hammer into you. Heeseung's tongue slips between your lips, and you taste him on your tongue, your saliva wetting his mouth as your bodies move together in an urgent rhythm.

“Fuck, Heeseung!” you yelp, your lips retracting from him as he hits a soft spot inside of you, each punch of his tip now making you see stars. From that first night you spent together in the mansion all those months ago, you haven’t had the privilege to experience anything this otherworldly, Jaeyun and Sunghoon taking you to the moon but it pales in comparison to the galaxies that Heeseung promises you.

Smirking, he bucks his hips faster. “Scream it, sweetheart, tell me you’re mine,” he coaxes, his frantic eyes trained on your closed ones. He needs to hear you say it, even if only once.

However, once he realises that no words are falling from your lips, he takes his hand and wraps it around your neck, oh so similarly to how he did the demon. “Fucking say it or I’ll end you right now.”

The fear that washes over your being heightens your arousal, your walls collapsing slightly onto his member. It’s embarrassing how much degradation, pain, and fear turn you on. Despite the tiny part of your brain with a conscience screaming out to stop you, you yield, looking him in the eyes with your glossy ones. “Y-yours. I’m yours Heeseung- Fuck!”

His fingers wrap around your airways, his rhythmic thrusts growing more insistent as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear. “You're a good girl, so good for me,” his voice is barely audible over the crescendo of your moans. The world outside seems to fade away, replaced by the primal intensity of the moment. If hell didn't know you were lost in this passion before, it certainly does now.

The praises mixed with the pain of his grip bring you close to the edge along with each kiss from the tip of his cock to your cervix. Between the warmth of the room, the heat radiating from your body, and the lack if oxygen passing through your lungs, you feel yourself shutting down, every sense overwhelmed by the brutal fucking.

“I’m gonna-” you warn, pulling yourself up with whatever strength you can muster in an attempt to gain some control. Typically, your hands would be raking down your partner's back, grounding you as you come undone, however, the metal doesn’t provide the same comfort that you’re used to.

“Cum over my cock, sweetheart. Show me how good I make you feel,” he urges, chasing his own release as you start to milk his dick, drawing out the doll's cum with fervour. 

With one loud scream of his name, you release your essence over him, your hands that were once gripping the cuffs now go flaccid, letting the waves of your orgasm take over. Your mind is not in the space to warn you that doing so would hurt your wrists but like the masochist you are, the nips from the restraints only add a sadistic pleasure to your climax.

Your embrace entices Heeseung, guiding him towards climax as he releases deeply inside you, his grip around your throat tightening briefly before easing, letting you gasp for air. His hips maintain their rhythm, driving his essence into you as if intent on securing it forever.

"Take it all, sweetheart," he murmurs huskily against your neck, teasing your sensitive spot before nipping it firmly.

The sudden rush of sensations overwhelms you, pleasure mingling with the faint sting of his bite. Heeseung's movements grow more urgent, each thrust seeming to imprint his desire deeper within you. His whispered encouragements and the rhythmic sound of your bodies meeting fill the air, creating a symphony of passion.

With every surge, he drives deeper, claiming you completely in the throes of ecstasy. His touch, both tender and possessive, ignites a fire that burns through you, each moment building towards an inevitable crescendo of shared release.

As you both come down from your highs, the only sound in the room is your heavy breathing and squelching from your combined fluids as Heeseung thrusts a couple more times before slipping out of you. 

He admires his work; your worn-out body, the blood from the demon that has transferred onto your beautiful skin, and the cum dripping from your cunt and mixing with the chartreuse-covered floor. You’re a vision to him and if he was enamoured by you before, he’s just become dementedly obsessed.

Your eyes close and your legs go weak, losing their grip on his waist as you slowly begin to pass out. It’s not good for a human to be down in the pits of hell, not for as long as you have, thus, moving with a hint of urgency, Heeseung breaks your cuffs as though they were made of plastic and cradles your body against his.

“Shhh,” he whispers as he nuzzles his nose into your neck. Heeseung refuses to be vulnerable but you bring out a side of him that no one has ever been able to before. He wants to protect you, to worship you, to have you by his side at all times.

And he’ll be damned if this is the last time he has you.

[monstersholygrail]

A familiar voice clears their throat and Demon Priest immediately knows it’s you who’s come to him so early on this Sunday morning. Not because the sound of your voice but because the call that yanks at his chest, urging him to go to the door. His body ready to obey your every command.

The nearing church service lingers in the back of his mind but as he meets your eye it soon becomes forgotten. “Good morning, little dove. What calls you to me this morning?”

“Maybe I missed you. I haven’t seen you in nearly a week,” you respond coyly, sauntering in. Looking Demon Priest up and down, thinking about how damn hot he looks in his robes.

Seeing you walk to him, Demon Priest immediately stands and matches your steps. The need to be closer to you, to touch you, claws at his chest. That familiar relief shoots through him as soon as he gathers you in his arms, your touch flooding through him and providing a break to the ache.

“Oh, my heart… I apologize. I’ve been far too focused on finishing my work. And I fear I’ve still yet to perfect it.”

You glance down at his desk, papers sprawled everywhere. A perfect amount to passionately brush the clutter aside and slam you down on the desk to take you right then and there. A shiver runs through your body as you look up at him through half-lidded eyes.

“Why don’t you practice it on me?”

It’s as if Demon Priest was set on this path to simply answer to your every desire as the moment you look at him he seems to read your mind. Knowing exactly what you need from him. And he’d risk anything to give it to you. He growls furiously and scoops you up into his arms only to plop you down on the desk.

“Or why don’t I practice something else on you first?”

Demon Priest’s hand is down your panties in a flash and a wicked glint sparks in his eye as he realizes you came to him ready for his cock, your folds gushing with slick. His fangs shine in the morning light as he smirks, revealing his cock and driving it to your core as if it’s his guiding light.

As soon as his cock sinks into your warm walls a rumble moves through Demon Priests’ chest, your warmth akin not to the flames of hell but of the blessed rays of heaven. He loses himself in the smooth glide of your pussy against his length.

Time and everything else fades more and more with every passionate thrust of his cock. He’s found his holy grail and he won’t let go of you for anything. Your nails clawing into his back as you gasp and moan shows him you don’t plan to let go either. The table squeaks along with floor with the increasing force of his hips.

A sudden knock on the door, a reminder of his duties, threatens to pull him from paradise and Demon Priest suddenly realizes where he is. A house of worship. He looks at your fucked out expression as he shows his devotion. How fitting.

“Ten— fifteen minutes!” Demon Priest calls back, not even able to stop as he pounds his cock deep inside your warm fat cunt. As your jaw extends to moan, he pulls you into his throat, the vibrations causing him to shake.

“You’ll be late,” The man outside annoyingly replies.

“They can wait!” Demon Priest snarls, his demonic features drawing out at the force of his anger. His claws extending to tickle your sides.

Deep growls huff out of him and he has to bury his face in your hair. It takes deep gulps of your scent and the ravaging of your gummy walls just to calm down. His large towering form cages you into his embrace and he falls back into your abyss.

He takes every second he can of those fifteen minutes to rut inside you as ferociously as he can. Pumping inside you till you fall apart in his arms, a fierce scream falling past your lips and right into his wiling flesh. With your pussy clenching around him so sweetly he explodes inside of you, relishing in every spurt that hits your eager womb.

Demon Priest whispers endless praises under his breath as you both calm down. Your panting breaths the loudest sound in the room. Both of you bask in the glow for as long as you can.

“You have to go,” you whisper breathlessly. Not wanting him to.

“They can wait,” he repeats softly to you. Not wanting to either.

[thescarletnargacuga]

THE BULL

A HARLEQUIN AU CAINE SONGFIC

Harlequin AU and ART credit: @tadc-harlequin-au @iamespecter

WARNING: angst, PTSD, guilt, anxiety, regret, alcohol

~~~

Caine dropped the empty bottle. Numb all over, he slouched in his office chair. His mind finally stopped screaming. Dizzying nothingness awaited him. It was the only potential bit of peace he knew.

Each and everyday, hiding from the sunshine

Wandering in the shade

Not too old, not too young

His soul still aches. That never changed no matter how much he drank. A pain that could never be silenced.

Every night again

Dancing with the moonlight

Somewhere far away, I can hear your call

A giant black bull, covered in colorful eyes, burst through the door. The horned shadow charged Caine, plowing through his desk and throwing him through the wall behind him.

I'm out of my head, of my heart and my mind

Cuz you can run but you can't hide

I'm going to make you mine

Caine fell way too far before hitting ground. Getting up, the City of Circuits was on fire. Human families ran and screamed with their children. Puppets brandishing weapons pursued. Gunfire and explosions made his ears ring.

Out of my head, of my heart and my mind

Cuz I can feel how your flesh now Is crying out for more

The bull was back. Charging through the swarms of panicked people. It didn't touch them, having a clear path through the chaos to Caine. He tried to run. The ground beneath him crumbled.

Ain't No fairy tail what I see in your eyes

Awaiting your mistakes

Not too close, not too far

The abyss that swallowed him was lined with abstract eyes. He landed in something liquid. He couldn't stay afloat, no matter how hard he tried to swim. He went under, hitting the bottom. It was made of glass.

Sneaking in the pain

Every truth becomes lie

I won't trust myself

Once I hear your call

The roar of the bull was the only warning before impact. The glass prison shattered. The force of the bull tossed Caine like a ragdoll across the hard floor. It's hooves trampled him, excruciating pain stabbed his abdomen and head.

I'm out of my head, of my heart and my mind

Cuz you can run but you can't hide

I'm going to make you mine

He saw what he thought was Pomni. She was high up on a platform. He reached out for her. She jumped. She landed face first into the floor, it broke on impact and she disappeared below.

Out of my head, of my heart and my mind

Cuz I can feel your flesh now

Is crying out for more

He screamed. He cried until his voice was gone. Then he was surrounded by Pomni. Over one thousand stoic harlequins stared at him. He couldn't look at them. He heard the bull again.

I'm out of my head, of my heart and my mind

The bull charged through and the harlequins turned into hundreds of thousands of photos. The faces burned off of all of them. Caine was struck again. He didn't even try to get out of the way this time.

Out of my head, of my heart and my mind

The blizzard of photographs cleared to reveal scorched earth. The ground was littered with humans and puppets alike. Marionettes of all sizes lurked in the shadows.

I'm out of my head, of my heart and my mind

Cuz you can run but you can't hide

I'm going to make you mine

Caine stood alone in a dead world. Only the bull remained. It pawed the ground and snorted, its many eyes all focused on him. He closed his eyes as it charged.

Out of my head, of my heart and my mind

Cuz I can feel how your flesh now is crying out for more...

The roar of the bull was the last thing Caine heard before he jolted awake. He was soaked with sweat and alcohol. Bottles littered the floor around his desk. He held his head in his hands. His whole body trembled.

He deserves this.

And he knew why.

~~~

ADDITIONAL ART BY SPECTER HERE!!

[mykneeshurt]

Sorry

Keegan Russ x F!reader

Warnings - minors DNI, 18+, explicit smut, angst

———

‘Are you FUCKING joking?’ You screamed as you threw your very expensive vase at the wall. Keegan ducked, his cat like reflexes once again barely managing to save him. ‘You’re such a fucking liar! Fuck you!’ You stormed over to him, pushing him in his broad chest. Pure unfiltered rage pumped through your veins as you stared at the man before you.

The man who told you he loved you.

The man who made you feel safe.

The man who you allowed yourself to love.

‘I’m sorry’ he whispered, eyes glazed, the steel blue of his irises contrasted with the blood shot white of his eyes. ‘You’re sorry?! You’re fucking sorry?! Keegan you lied to me for six months. I fucking fell for you and this whole time you were using me to spy on my father. I don’t think sorry quite cuts it. Do you?’ Your voice was venomous.

‘I didn’t mean for this to happen.’ You pushed him again. ‘What? Letting it get this far? Or falling for me in the first place?’ Every limb, every fibre of you was shaking. Your mouth was dry, your eyes hurt from crying, your heart shattered into jagged shards of glass.

‘I … uh’ he stuttered.

‘I … I …’ you mocked ‘fuck you Keegan. Get out.’ As you turned to walk away he grabbed your wrist, instantly you spun round, the palm of your hand making perfect contact with his cheek. ‘Don’t touch me. We’re done.’

‘No’ he muttered as he stood defiantly in your living room. ‘Fuck you mean no? Keegan, I don’t want to see you ever again. I never ever thought you’d hurt me. But here we are.’ Your voice was low, almost a whisper. Turning again he gripped your wrist, ‘please don’t make me go.’

Tears pricked your eyes, your tired swollen eyes. You sighed, still allowing him to keep a hold of you. Your lungs felt so tight, they strained to breathe. Your bottom lip quivered as you sighed into the empty living room. The living room where you had your first kiss, where you would play fight, where he held you when your father had a fall.

Yet it was all a lie.

‘Keegan … I can’t … please let me go’ murmured, voice straining from the emotion. ‘I can’t. I can’t let you go. You’re all I think about. You’re all I want. I’ve tasted you and I don’t want anyone else. I want this. I want you. I want us.’ There was a soft thud behind you. Turning round you saw him on his knees, brows furrowed, lips pressed together.

‘Get up Keegan’ you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. ‘I’ll beg if you want me to’ he said, eyes never faltering from yours.

‘I don’t want that. I want you to go.’ He slowly rose to his feet, still holding your wrist. He closed in on you, the warmth from his body permeated your tired bones. Even feeling so angry at him his presence still soothed you, still offered you safety. You hated your body for betraying you.

Looking up at him through tear stained lashes your heart ached, your stomach twisted and turned. An unwavering abyss of emotion coursed through your body. His face was contorted, twisted with pain. He raised a hand to your cheek, using his thumb to wipe away your tears. You leant into his touch, these hands had killed people, but to you they were your sanctuary.

‘Keegan’ you whispered, your rage now confusion. He lowered his lips to yours, hovering above them, ‘I’m sorry.’ Your lip quivered at his words, you believed him, reluctantly, but it didn’t absolve him from his lies. He gently pressed his lips to yours, now cradling your face with both hands. You sank into the kiss, your mind and heart fighting against one another.

Your hands found his waist, pulling him closer. Your mind screamed at you to stop, that you would regret it. But your heart told you to keep going, that you loved each other, that you needed to feel something other than rage.

That you need him.

Lifting his shirt slightly you grazed your hands along his skin, his soft, scar littered skin. He deepened the kiss, his tongue slowly worked with yours causing you to moan softly. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach, your head fuzzy.

Wrapping his arms around your waist he picked you up, walking you slowly to the sofa. His footsteps seemed to echo in the now silent apartment. Sitting down he kept you straddling his hips, his hands rubbing your back under your t-shirt. You placed your hands on his shoulders, his broad firm shoulders. Instinctively you rolled your hips, feeling his hard cock beneath his jeans.

He groaned into your lips, using his hands he pushed your hips down urging you to grind on him. Breaking the kiss you threw your head back as he kissed and nipped at your neck, ‘fuck I need you’ he whispered.

‘I fucking hate you’ you retorted, still grinding on him, your panties now soaking with arousal.

‘Liar. You want me.’

‘No, I wanna fuckin punch you.’

‘Stop lying’ he moaned as he pulled off your t-shirt and bra. He gently kissed your collar bone before holding your chin, forcing you to look at him. The silence between you was deafening, both trying to read each others faces.

Reigniting the kiss you pulled at his shirt, removing it he threw it behind him as he placed you on your back. He made fast work of your jeans before sliding a finger against your core. ‘Oh fuck’ he whimpered as he bit his lip. ‘Take em off’ you ordered arching your back.

Pulling them off he then made fast work of his own. You pulled him back into a kiss, this time it was desperate, sloppy. Lining himself up he pushed into you, ‘fuck’ you moaned breathlessly. As he began to move you wrapped your legs around him holding him against you. He buried his face in your neck, ‘feels so good baby’ he whispered.

Staining your skin with kisses your bodies moved together, each thrust of his cock filled you as his tip grazed that spot. You could feel his muscles tense with each movement, how each one rippled beneath his skin as he fucked you. Sweat began to gather between your bodies, your arousal dripping from your stretched out cunt.

‘Harder’ you panted, ‘harder … fuck.’ He upped his pace, slamming his cock into you, his pubic bone hitting your clit. He leant back onto his knees, holding you in place by your thighs. His fingers gripping onto you with a bruising force. You watched as he jaw fell slack, biting his lips as he hissed at the sight before him. You dropped a hand to your clit, your orgasm not coming fast enough.

‘That’s it’ he praised ‘look so good sweetheart, fuck.’ Burying your face in your arm you whimpered and moaned. ‘Don’t stop Keegan, oh god!’ Placing his forearms next to your head he dropped down, kissing your neck. ‘So fuckin beautiful’ he muttered, ‘you look so beautiful taking my cock.’ Eyes shut you smiled as you licked your lips, he always knew how to praise you.

‘M close’ you managed to say in between your moans. ‘Keep goin baby, lemme feel you.’ He cupped your jaw as he caressed his thumb over your bottom lip, urging you to lose your self. With one final strum against your clit you lost yourself. Your body seized as your cunt pulsated around him, his eyes glistened as he watched you. An expression of awe written over his features.

‘Eyes on me’ he ordered, doing as you were told you focused on him. Gripping your hips he upped his rhythm, chasing his own release. ‘Gonna fill you, gonna fill this pussy, fuuuck’ he moaned. Biting your lip you played with your breasts, tweaking your nipples, teasing him.

With a final thrust he threw his head back, releasing inside you. Hot ropes of cum lined your walls, his cock pulsated inside you as he rode out his high. He still slowly moved inside you, pushing and pulling, overstimulating you both. Torturing your aching bodies.

He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, ‘can I stay?’ His voice hopeful. Cupping his face you kissed him deeply. ‘Yes. We’ll talk properly tomorrow.’

———

Taglist (y’all showed interest on my Keegan post) - @horsdutemps @lundenloves @sarcanti @averythang @tiredmetalenthusiast @kosmokenny

[perkypeony]

𝕊ℍ𝔸𝕋𝕋𝔼ℝ𝔼𝔻

Gojo Satoru x wife reader

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴀɴɢsᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ(ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ), ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍᴀ, ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀʏ ʟᴏss, ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴅɪsᴛʀᴇss, ᴘᴛsᴅ, sᴜᴋᴜɴᴀ

The moment Gojo Satoru was unsealed from the prison realm, the world felt gloomy. He was free, but the sight before him was anything but welcoming. His wife—the love of his life, his biggest supporter—lay on the ground, she was a ghost of the woman he missed so dearly.

Her body was bruised and battered, her clothes torn and bloodstained. Her eyes, once so full of life, were now vacant, staring blankly ahead. As he approached, his heart shattered at the sight of her broken form.

"My love, it's me," he whispered, his voice trembling. He reached out to touch her, but she flinched violently, a guttural scream escaping her lips. The sound tore through him like a blade, raw and agonizing.

Her eyes darted around wildly, unfocused and filled with terror. She let out choked sobs, clutching her head as if trying to block out some unseen horror.

"It's okay," he tried to soothe you, holding back his own tears from falling freely. "I'm here now. You're safe."

But she didn't hear him. She couldn't. Her mind was lost in the abyss of pain and fear. She looked at him then, her eyes catching his cerulean blue eyes for a fleeting moment. There was a flicker of something—recognition, perhaps—but it was gone as quickly as it came.

"Do you remember me?" he asked, desperation seeping into his voice. But she only shook her head, her expression one of sheer panic and confusion. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, a heart-wrenching wail echoed through the silence.

Satoru reached out again, trying to comfort her, but she struggled against him, her movements frantic and desperate. "No, no, please!" she screamed, her voice cracking with the intensity of her fear. Her hands pushed weakly against his chest, her nails digging into his skin as she tried to get away.

"It's me, Satoru," he repeated, his heart breaking with every sob that escaped her lips. "I would never hurt you."

But his words seemed to fall on deaf ears. She continued to struggle, her body writhing in his grasp as she fought to free herself from an imagined threat. It was only after several agonizing minutes that her strength began to wane. Exhaustion overtook her, and her struggles grew weaker, her cries becoming soft, pitiful whimpers.

Finally, she collapsed against him, her body shaking with silent sobs. Satoru held her tightly, his dam of tears finally broke. With painstaking gentleness, he lifted her into his arms. She was light, too light as if the essence of her had been drained away. "I'll take care of you," he vowed, his voice breaking. "I promise."

Satoru brought her to see Shoko and only right then he knew what happened to his wife. She was gone after Sukuna took over Megumi's body. Nobody witnessed Sukuna kidnap her but judging by her current state, it might be true. Whatever Sukuna had done to her, it had twisted her mind beyond recognition. Shoko advised Satoru to seek out professionals, as this is not her field. Shoko spoke of symptoms of PTSD and its treatments, but all Satoru could see was the shell of his beloved wife.

Days blurred into nights as he sat by her side, his heart aching with every sob, every flinch. He tried to comfort her, to remind her of who she was, but it was like reaching for a ghost. She would stare at him with eyes that saw nothing, lost in her own torment.

One particularly cold night, she awoke screaming, her body shaking with uncontrollable terror. Satoru held her, his own tears mingling with hers. He tried to hold back his tears, determined to be strong for her. However, he is the weakest when it comes to his wife, his heart can't bear seeing her suffering. "It's okay, it's just a nightmare," he whispered, though he knew her waking reality was far worse.

She pushed him away, crawling into a corner of the room, her eyes wide with fear. "Don't touch me!" she cried, her voice raw and broken. "Please, don't hurt me!"

The words cut deeper than any blade. "I would never hurt you," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I love you."

But she couldn't hear him. Her mind was trapped in the horrors Sukuna had inflicted, and there was no reaching her. She looked at him, her eyes filled with such profound sorrow and fear that it took everything in him not to break down completely.

He took her hand gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. She flinched, but this time, she didn't pull away. "I'm not him," he said softly. "I'm Satoru. Your husband."

She looked at him, confusion tarnishing her features. "Satoru?" she repeated, the name foreign on her lips. "I... I don't remember."

His heart clenched painfully. "It's okay," he said, though it was anything but. "We'll get through this. Together."

But the days were long and the nights even longer. She was a ghost, haunted by memories too painful to recall and too traumatic to forget. Every step forward was met with a stumble back. Her laughter was a distant memory, her smiles a rarity.

One day, as the sun set, painting the sky in hues of red and gold, he took her to a secluded spot they once loved. She sat beside him, silent and trembling. "We used to come here all the time," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You loved watching the sunset."

She turned to him, her eyes reflecting the fading light. For a moment, just a moment, he saw a glimpse of the woman he fell in love with. "It's beautiful," she whispered, her voice fragile.

"It is," he agreed, his heart breaking all over again. "Just like you."

But as the sun dipped below the horizon, the moment passed. She looked away, lost once more in the darkness of her mind. He reached out, taking her hand in his. "I love you," he said, hoping against hope that some part of her remembered.

Tears filled her eyes, and she looked at him with a sorrow so deep it felt like drowning. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I still don't remember who you are."

The words were a dagger to his heart. He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as if he could somehow piece her back together. "It's not your fault," he said, his voice breaking. "None of this is your fault."

Sukuna had hoped to break him, to shatter him as he had shattered her. But instead, Satoru found a fierce, burning resolve. He would not let this destroy them. He would fight for her, for the woman she was and the woman she could be again.

Every day was a battle, but he fought it willingly, with all his heart. Because no matter how broken she is, she's still his wife, his love, his everything. And he would spend every moment proving that love could heal, even the deepest wounds.

[weirdkpopgirl]

Embrace | Haechan Imagine #8

Title: Embrace

Genre: Fluff, slight angst

Warnings: vague mentions of reader struggling with insomnia

Word Count: 616

Author's Note: This story was inspired by my bad habit of not going to sleep, even when I'm tired lol. It's not like I do it on purpose, but my mind just cries out for a distraction sometimes. I don't know how to explain it. Anyway if any of you can relate to this, I hope this story can give you some comfort ^ ^

─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─

In the quiet space of your apartment, you were sprawled out on the couch as your thumb absentmindedly scrolled through the world of social media. Every so often, your eyes subconsciously flickered to the time on the left corner of the screen, reminding you that one a.m. was now closely bordering two.

The back of your mind was screaming at you to go to sleep, thinking of all the things you were supposed to do the following day. Yet, the apprehension of not being able to fall asleep made you hesitate. The fear wasn’t large, but enough to keep you trapped in the scrolling abyss, a dance between fatigue and distraction.

Eventually, you heard the soft echoes of your boyfriend’s slippers padding against the wooden floor, drawing him closer to where you were stationed. Rubbing his eyes, he approached you with a slight frown on his lips. 

“Baby, it’s late. Why are you still up?” Haechan murmured with a touch of concern in his voice. 

Although he was accustomed to being awake in the odd hours due to his work, seeing you deviate from a regular sleep schedule puzzled him.

You glanced up at him with weary eyes. “Just can’t seem to quiet my mind,” you muttered with a small shrug.

Haechan sighed as he witnessed you fight back a yawn. He moved to sit beside you for a moment and gently removed your phone from your hands and set it down on the coffee table.

“Come on, let’s go to bed,” he said, taking your hand in his. “Maybe I can help you relax.”

Reluctantly, you gave in and allowed him to guide you to the bedroom. The subtle glow of the lamp on your nightstand casted a gentle ambiance in the room. Once you were tucked under the soft comforter, Haechan settled down beside you.

“Close your eyes, baby,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around you in a comfortable position. 

His lips brushed against your temple, sending a tingling shock down your spine. The warmth of his touch prompted you to snuggle closer, your head finding the perfect spot on his chest. The echoes of his steady heartbeat were calming and the warmth of his embrace gradually melted away any troublesome thoughts that lingered within you.

You let out a heavy exhale before mumbling, “You really have a way of making everything feel okay.”

Haechan chuckled and brushed back a lock of hair behind your ear. The corners of his lips curled into a small smirk.

“Of course, you just happen to have the most caring, loving, and devastatingly handsome boyfriend,” he said, flashing you a teasing smile.

You knew he was only joking. But as his words sank in through your mind, you recognized the truth in them. The longer you were with Haechan, the more you realized that you didn’t know what you’d do without him in your life.

Instinctively, your hand drifted to cradle his face, lightly tracing over the moles adorning his cheek. Gazing into his eyes, a sense of vulnerability washed over you.

“You’re right. I do,” you quietly admitted.

Caught off guard by your serious response, Haechan’s heart ached at your simple words. This overwhelming surge of deep love and affection he had for you hit him all at once. Without holding back, he leaned in to capture your lips in a tender kiss. You stayed like this for a while, before breaking away with a smile. The two of you eventually succumbed to sleep, peacefully nestled in each other’s embrace.

─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

Thank you @infernally-fond for the idea, this was super fun to write!

Read on AO3

-

As naive, foolish, and ludicrous (read: dangerous) as it may be, it's easy for Tav to forget that Raphael is a creature of evil, born from the Hells; ancient in comparison to anything or anyone she's ever known. He's good at pretending to be human, his facade so carefully crafted like the glow of an anglerfish's lure in the abyss. Come closer, it beckons, let down your guard.

She forgets he is a predator, and she is prey.

She forgets he is a monster.

When the bell rings through the House of Hope, it's dinner time. Tav makes her way to the dining area. Something doesn't feel right. The fireplace roars cosy as usual. Debtors fill their seats. Yet the table is empty. Raphael sits at its head, in front of the fire, his hands steepled. He smiles at her. His soft brown irises look black in the shadows that play across his handsome face. Flickering shadows that warp and stretch into grotesque shapes.

"There you are," he purrs. "We've been waiting. We couldn't eat until you arrived, and we are ever so hungry."

"Sorry, I..." Tav trails off. There's nowhere for her to sit. Every chair is taken.

"Is something the matter, dear?"

All of the debtors stare at her in silence. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck rise. The room feels like it's slowly shrinking. The air is thick and hard to breathe. Her instincts shriek and holler. GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!

"Actually, you know, I think I'm not hungry," Tav stutters. "I'll just. I'll go back to my room..."

She tries to leave. The doors close on their own before she even reaches them. She whips around to look at Raphael. Confused. Horrified. He's amused. Gleeful, almost.

Ravenous.

"I think you'll stay right here," he declares. He's still smiling. "You're the main course, after all."

Tav gets but a split second to comprehend those final six words. The devil clicks his fingers and she's on the table, on her back, naked and spread out like a choice cut. There are no chains, but she can't move. Can't struggle. Can't escape.

"No! Please!" She begs, eyes wide. "Please, stop! Let me go!"

She looks to the debtors, tries to implore them for help. For anything. They start laughing. All of them, like a murder of crows, and as they laugh, their skins slough away from their bones. Their eyes melt in their skulls. Their teeth shatter. Their tongues swell and burst and still they laugh.

Silly little girl.

Raphael looms over her. Wicked horns jut from his forehead. Eyes reptilian and yellow. His lips pull over glistening fangs. Red bleeds into his tawny skin. His hands burn as he drags them across her bare flesh. Long fingers end in sharp black claws that leave bloody welts in their wake.

"So beautiful," he croons, catching her tears on his fingertips. He puts them in his mouth, sucks them clean. "So delicious."

"Raphael, please," Tav sobs. "Why are you doing this to me?"

The Devil cups her cheek. He strokes it tenderly with his thumb. His other hand makes a cage above her heart. Five knife points pushing into her skin. "Because you let me."

Tav screams as he pulls out her heart. Effortlessly breaking through flesh and muscle and bone. He rips his prize free with brutal precision and holds it up, shows it to her as it keeps beating, dripping blood and tissue, swallowed by his huge palm. By his will, she realises, she isn't dead. He truly intends to eat her alive.

"Remember, little mouse," he says as she gapes in shock. He squeezes her poor heart, and he just keeps smiling. "This is mine."

Tav jerks awake. An aborted scream still in her aching lungs, thick in her throat. Body damp with cold sweat.

Just a nightmare. Vivid, but imaginary. She'll feel alright in a minute, when she's calmed down. Those familiar yellow eyes she can see glowing in the dark will disappear once she's properly awake. Only, she keeps blinking and they don't go away. In fact, they even blink back. As her eyes adjust she can make out the silhouette of someone sitting at the end of her bed. She inhales, sharp and stagnant, scrambling to light the lantern on her bedside table.

It's Raphael. Perched like a gargoyle. Human, though, eyes brown as if they always have been.

"Apologies," he coos, sounding anything but sorry. "Did I scare you?"

"Wasn't expecting to see you, is all," Tav mumbles. The nightmare has unsettled her. Raphael's presence, the idea that he's been watching her sleep, is setting her nerves on edge, but she won't tell him. "How long have you been here?"

"Not long," he promises. Could be the truth. For some reason, Tav doubts it. "I thought I sensed distress, so I came to check on you."

"I'm fine. Just...a bad dream."

"Ah, we all have those from time to time." Tav briefly wonders what a devil's nightmare looks like. Decides she'd rather not know. Something about his tone is faintly suspicious. "Perhaps you'd feel better if I stayed here with you until morning, hm?"

"That's - you don't have to. I'm sure you've got better things to do..."

"Nonsense." The devil is already undoing his cufflinks. Tav watches helplessly as he shrugs out of his coat and boots. At the end of the day, he will do what he pleases. "Scoot over, won't you, pet?"

Tav reluctantly makes space. Raphael settles his hard, warm body up against hers, strong arms circling her waist, one heavy leg thrown over both of hers. Holding her down like she'd been pinned in the dream. It doesn't mean anything. One of his hands absently comes to rest over her pounding heart. Coincidence, surely. He presses his face into the crook of her neck and Tav can feel him smile.

"Go back to sleep, little mouse," he whispers into her ear. "You'll have sweet dreams this time, I promise."

Tav stays awake for the rest of the night.

[itoshiexx]

behold: the end of the world is near.

synopsis: rin feels you slipping through his fingertips every time you fight, and he's sure he won't survive the heartbreak when you inevitably leave.

pairing: itoshi rin x gn!reader | words: 532 | warnings: established relationship, angst, rin is overthinking and hating himself, this is 100% self indulgent and honestly just word vomit

notes: it’s 3 am, i’ve just cried like a madman and spilled all my pain in this drabble. wrote on my phone so sorry for any mistakes and lack of format. will edit soon.

fighting with you always felt like the end of the world to rin.

when the little daily arguments started to gather into a huge snowball and ultimately become a serious conversation, with some accusations, some screaming and throwing some stuff on each other’s faces, all rin could think of was: this is it. this is the moment they leave forever.

he was no stranger to being left. he was no stranger to the piercing pain that came along with it, too; but somehow, rin knew that it would be a thousand times worse when it came to you.

he knew that if you left, he would never be able to recover from the heartbreak. the love he harbored for you in his strongly guarded heart would spill and consume everything inside of him like a scorching flame, until there was nothing left but the bitter taste of ashes.

he would never breathe the same. he wouldn’t see the world in its full colors, hues and brightness. there would be no point for him anymore, because itoshi rin was certain that the sole purpose of his soul was to love and be loved by yours — and although his love would be eternal no matter what, he knew damn well yours could end at any minute.

in those stupid fights, you could see all of his flaws and idiot mistakes. all of the things he could have — should have — done; all of the ways he should have tried harder and been better. in every word traded between you two, his imperfections would show, and make way to the abnormal abyss inside of him that always devoured any chance of happiness he could possibly have.

he wasn’t meant to be happy. rin knew he was way too broken to live a content life with a love as beautiful as yours. and every bone in his body ached with the awareness that being by your side was a paradise he didn’t deserve.

and no matter how much he tried, he could hardly understand what he felt, why he acted the way he did and how he could fix everything wrong in him to match with your perfection.

one day, you would see just how wrong itoshi rin was for you — or anyone, for that matter, because in this lifetime and the next there would only ever be you for him. and when this day came, you would leave without looking back, grateful for getting rid of such a burden like him, who was holding you back from giving your love to someone that could retribute like you deserved.

and on this dreadful day, the song of the apocalypse would play on repeat in his head until his ears bled and his skin became dust without your love flowing through his veins. amongst the burning sensation of being left behind, once again, because he was too much and not enough at the same time, despair would swallow him whole until he was just a pile of sorrow and regret.

itoshi rin was no stranger to loneliness, but being without you would mean being alone with no one but himself. and that would be the end for him.

© 2023 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

[lateatnewyork]

Down Bad

luke castellan x apollo!reader

warnings: angst

a/n: inspired by down bad by taylor swift (i am ignoring all my drafts i have no will to write for 😭) THIS IS NOT ACCURATE

italics - flashback normal - current bold - (idk js impacting lines 😭) this - lyrics

i paced back and forth in the dimly lit room, my siblings long asleep. percy had just returned from his quest, successful, luke was taking him to chiron. normally i would just sit on my bed waiting for him to come back, but i had a vision. one where percy got hurt.

which was strange since he was with luke, and luke wouldn't let percy get injured unless luke was injured too. but it was probably just another of my visions that made no sense. i waited two minutes, five minutes, however when the clock ticked over to ten minutes i stood up and rushed to chiron.

seeing the half man half goat safe in the middle of the bonfire, running to him i questioned him.

"chiron, do you know where luke is? he was meant to take percy to you,"

my concerned tone was met with a swift shake of his head and then he resumed his conversation with mr d.

"i think i saw them heading into the forest," a camper responded.

running to the woods, i saw the faint light deep in the woods. sprinting through the woods, i sighed in relief when the source of the brightness came closer.

not thinking twice, i broke the bushes hiding the opening from me and barged in to see percy on the floor.

"percy oh shit, what happened- where's luke?" my rambling became quicker and louder.

"behind you," percy hoarsely whispered.

"what-" my question was broken by a small pinch to my neck and black spots invaded my vision and strong arms held me up.

"im sorry y/n, i love you" those were the last things i heard before i fainted.

───────────────────────────────────────────

my eyes opened, but i wasn't on the forest floor anymore, i was in the infirmary. annabeth was sitting at my side, my hand jerked when i realised she was holding it.

"y/n you're awake" she sighed.

"where's percy?" i asked. she smiled and replied "he's safe".

"it was luke." i breathed out.

"i know."

"it was luke" my bottom lip wobbled.

───────────────────────────────────────────

there was no one to talk about this with. no one would've understood me. the pain i felt for losing luke, even though i knew this was his choice and his doing, it still hurt inside me.

i tried talking about my feelings once with clarisse, but she didn't understand no matter how much she pretended she did, and the dirty looks i got from campers at the slightest mention of luke hurt.

they'll say i'm nuts if i talk about the existence of you

luke is the perfect boyfriend, he picks me up from my cabin making sure i reach my destination safely. he gives me flowers weekly, tells me he loves me, is the perfect gentleman and cares about me. just when i thought i couldn't love him more, i saw him helping a fairly young camper, the way he crouched down so the boy didn't get intimidated, with a genuine smile that was normally only reserved for me and for a moment my heart ached with how much i loved him.

for a moment, i was heavenstruck

"you look beautiful today, love" luke said with a smile. "i look the same as yesterday luke" i giggle. "yes but you in the sunshine is gift to the world" he says as he pulls me in for a soft kiss.

did you really beam me up in a cloud of sparkling dust

"luke was the one who betrayed the gods" and me.

just to do experiments on?

i stood at the cliff where me and luke hung out, where we had our first kiss, where he first asked me to be his-

"fuck you luke" i scream out into the abyss, so loudly hoping it reaches him

"please don't leave me," i break down, my voice cracking.

how dare you think it's romantic leaving me safe and stranded?

"daughter, you need to fix yourself, you are a daughter of apollo not some peasantly god" dad normally doesn't visit but i guess his daughter ruining the face of apollo was a good enough reason.

"i'm sorry-"

"you're destroying my image and the image of all your siblings," he reprimanded.

"but dad, luke-"

"i don't want to hear that traitors name from your mouth again,"

and with that he left.

down bad (like i lost my twin)

"i get that y/n is sad, but he was just a boyfriend, she's dragging it," one of my siblings said.

"i know she's so overbearing, i feel bad for annabeth and percy,".

tears i didn't know i was holding broke free and spilled over wetting my cheeks.

"i might just die, it would make no difference"

"you know you look like a star reincarnated" luke said his hand caressing my face. pulling away with a blush i replied "you're too kind luke,"

"come back"

staring at the sky, come back and pick me up

"i love you luke".

my eyes shut as the darkness of hades' embrace swallowed me whole.

cause fuck it i was in love fuck you if i cant have us cause fuck it i was in love

a/n sorry abt the shitty post but i didnt want to ghost you guys (like i have been doing) soooo yeah

[lexsssu]

Breeding (Aether)

TAGS: Abyss!Aether/F!reader, breeding, smut, drabble Ao3 ver. | Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)

“You’re going to look even more beautiful once my seed takes, darling. I know you can also barely wait to finally start our family together, but don’t worry...neither of us are leaving this room until you’re so thoroughly filled that there’s no possible way you aren’t pregnant.”

Family has always been important to Aether, especially as he was the older brother and only family to his younger twin sister for countless years. Even after being separated from Lumine in Teyvat, family will always be his number one priority even if his ways may seem unconventional and perhaps a little insidious now that he was the Abyssal Prince.

While his little sister was still off on her own journey through this world, it is only natural that he take the necessary steps to increasing his family, especially now that he’d found the one whom his darkened heart yearned for.

Lumine would be so happy once she’d finished her journey and learned that she was now an aunt to several nephews and nieces.

“I’d read that this is the ideal position to ensure that all my seed goes straight to your womb,” he mentions as he presses your legs towards your upper half, his cock twitching as the position reveals your quivering and soaking cunt to his hungry eyes.

“Such a good little pussy...making so much slick so my cock could easily slide in…” 

Aether cups your cheek with one hand, tilting your chin upwards to capture your lips in a sensual dance of tongues. A thin string of saliva connected your mouths once he pulled away, leaving you whining as you gaze up at him with pleading eyes that the blonde knew he could never say no to.

“Whatever did I do to deserve you…” 

Before you could answer his obviously rhetorical question with sincere admissions, the Abyss Prince slams the entirety of his cock in one fluid stroke, sheathing himself into your moist and velvety depths that had him sighing in content as your gummy walls tightened over his aching length.

“Hush now, my darling. Save your voice for when I make you scream~ ”

[renlyslittlerose]

Kinktober Day 21 - Hurt/Comfort

For @himilce-persephoniea who asked for "gentledom Obi-Wan that can calm down feral Anakin"🫂

Give Me That Peace and Joy - 1,189 Rating: M Content: Established Relationship / Implied Sexual Content / Angst / Hurt/Comfort / Self-Hatred / Demigod Anakin Skywalker / Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug / Protective Obi-Wan Kenobi / Character Study / Relationship Study / Mental Breakdown / Mental Health Issues

---

Anakin was spiralling, falling, colliding into the abyss, the currents of his fractured psyche dragging him down. Putrid black bile tore through his insides while acrid smoke filled his lungs, hollowing him out until nothing was left but the maddening call of the void below. Self loathing and doubt coated his mouth, lips pulled tight, spit frothing from the corners like a mad dog as he pulled at the chains that bound and howled back at the void.

How long had he stood at this precipice but never stepped over? How many times had he almost slipped but never quite fell? How many times had he heard the braying of the choir that told him to jump - to soar - but never once fallen?

Too many times, it seemed. Eventually something would snap deep inside - the chain would break and chaos would ensue. It was inevitable, really. Anakin had heard the hushed whispers in the halls and behind partially shut doors, hurried looks of curiosity mixed with fear from his fellows, of a boy gilded in prophecy but with a tear in his mind that made him broken; fractured; incomplete.

It was frightening (he was frightening).

It was dangerous (he was dangerous).

It was destiny.

Tearing at his chest with bloodied knuckles Anakin pressed into his sternum, choking on a sob as he curled in further and further, trying to make himself as small as he could - as unnoticed as he could.

Perhaps if he cried enough, screamed enough, destroyed himself enough he could be free of this magnitude. Perhaps if he broke into a million pieces he couldn’t be put back together. Perhaps if no one noticed, the Force and all its beauty and horror would look the other way - find another to favour, to cherish, to love.

But Obi-Wan wouldn’t allow it. He wouldn’t let Anakin hollow himself out, pour his messes across the floor and let the dogs lap it up. He wouldn’t allow Anakin to turn in on himself, to become small and pitiful and weak. He wouldn’t allow the pieces to go unmade, wouldn’t allow the fractures to break apart, wouldn’t allow Anakin to be anything other than—

“My darling boy.”

Strong hands gripped his own, pulling them away from his chest. Angry welts from his nails were touched by these same hands, his palms both warm and cool as they ran across Anakin’s neck and down his chest, soothing the ache for just a moment. Another sob broke past Anakin’s lips but was swallowed by a gentle kiss, Obi-Wan pressing his warm lips to Anakin’s chapped and broken ones, pressure firm and solid. Anakin tried to push, to lash out, to get away from the dignity and the kindness but Obi-Wan remained firm, his grip solid behind his neck, the taste of him washing away the sick, the smell of him familiar.

Breaking the kiss Anakin closed his eyes, and like a child seeking warmth curled up against Obi-Wan. He could still hear the howling of the abyss behind him, each tug of it unravelling him further, the allure of sinking into his own insanity still tempting. Gritting his teeth he pushed against Obi-Wan further, desperate to be a part of him, locked within his ribs and curled around his heart, protected from the agony of his existence.

With trembling hands he pulled and tore at Obi-Wan’s robes, breath stuttering as he stripped him of his layers until marred skin was exposed to him. Obi-Wan murmured soft words that Anakin couldn’t hear, his body taught, muscles firm beneath Anakin’s desperate touch as he continued to rip at his Jedi trappings until all that was left was the man beneath it all.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin pleased, desperate for something though he knew not what.

Solace? Penance? Affirmation?

He caught Obi-Wan in a fierce kiss, his own robes pushed and pulled at, his bruised body exposed to the outside air that stung and nipped his overheated flesh. Climbing on to his lap he grabbed Obi-Wan’s hand and brought it between them, pushing his aching length against his palm, begging Obi-Wan to touch him, cherish him, wash away the filth and the hurt until he was whole again. Until he was who Obi-Wan always said he was.

Keeping his hand on Obi-Wan’s wrist he moaned softly as the flex of Obi-Wan’s wrist coupled with the press of his hand, fingers wrapping tight as he stroked him with a steady grip. Obi-Wan continued to speak to Anakin though his words made little sense, wrapped up and coursing with the flow of blood through Anakin’s head and chest, thunderous and overwhelming.

But Anakin felt it. Felt the adoration, the steadiness - the truth - of Obi-Wan’s words. He believed them as he spoke them against Anakin’s jaw and along his neck, breath hot and sticking to Anakin’s flesh, bumps spread out across his quaking form as he ground down harder. Thighs trembling and body humming, Anakin fell further into Obi-Wan’s embrace, his hands trailing along his body, memorising and admiring every folly and perfection.

Obi-Wan was real and solid; a reminder of Anakin’s existence in this world. He wasn’t just a creation of the Force, swallowed up in its magnificence, bound by its orders. He was a child of flesh and blood, loved by someone so achingly human it sometimes hurt Anakin to think about. Obi-Wan was perfect despite the imperfection of his creation, unlike Anakin.

But maybe if Anakin swallowed enough of his sweat, his tears, his come - his humanity - then it’d soak into him. It’d lay down seeds that would grow and spread like vines through his body, beating back the slow creep of death and destiny, making Anakin into someone who could inspire rather than revolt, love rather than fear, fulfil rather than hunger.

Grinding down Anakin could feel Obi-Wan’s own eagerness, thick and hard beneath him. It was this reminder - that Obi-Wan wanted him, desired him, craved him - that sent Anakin down into his release.

Obi-Wan loved Anakin.

He spasmed and shook, a blissful sigh slipping past his chapped lips, the assurances of Obi-Wan’s belief in him coursing through him. He kissed Obi-Wan then, tasting the tea on his lips, feeling the wisps of his beard that tickled, hearing the soft sigh of his own release. He held Obi-Wan close until his hands ached, his arms ached, his chest ached, still desperate to be inside of him - to be anywhere but in his own body, his own mind.

When they were done he dropped his head down to the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck. Obi-Wan stroked his back, palms hot and rough, fingers pressing into the bruises on Anakin’s body, feeling the dips of his ribs and the bumps of his curled spine. With another sob Anakin curled in as close as he could, cradled in the arms of the only person that knew, that understood, that loved despite it all.

[redara]

Where You Are

Summary: when the world gets too much, you know you are safe in the confines of your mind, even if that means you are drowning.

A/n: this is based on my personal experience. It may be different for everyone, but each one of them is valid. If you are going through one rn, i hope you find that safe place to call home.

Pairings: Bi-Han x reader/you.

Ratings: Teen & Up.

Words: 1.172.

TW: description of dissociation and anxiety. Soft!Bi-Han.

The restricting feeling in your chest comes, binding, tightening, stealing your breath with each passing seconds. Your heart aches, a pricking feeling, like a glass stabbing. The seconds turn to minutes. The familiar coldness blooms from your palms, numbing, making your fingers shake.

Calm down, calm down, calm -- you wheeze. Feeling suffocated by nothing, drowning in the abundance of air and space. Chatters from the people around you feel muffled and agitating, gritting in your mind, edging you towards the figurative cliff.

So you do what you do best at moments like this: you take the plunge.

You're conscious, and at the same time, you are not. You are simply not there. Physically, your body remains in the room, reacting to others as cordially as usual, but mentally, your mind is elsewhere. Mind drawing thousands of jumbled memories and imaginations to distract you from the fact that you are drowning.

A moment passes, and the shakiness of your hands becomes manageable. Another moment passes, and the ache of your heart dissipates. An illusion, a battle tactic, you've successfully numbed yourself when your mind wants to go on a fight or flight mode. In that little victorious moment, you mentally pat yourself in the back, promising that once this is all over, once you are alone, you will mend your wound the way you know best.

But your victory is short-lived when someone calls you, and they begin to engage in an antagonizing conversation with you, and you are cornered once again -- too poor a reaction, too little, too much, too strong, too weak -- and that restrictive feeling returns; the memory fucks up by replaying snippets of the bad ones, triggering you inch by inch, that your imagination can't keep up, trying to fix everything.

Then once more, you hide your shaky hands, you smile your heartache away, you take the plunge into the abyss.

***

The hours feel like forever. By the time you're leaving the dining hall to return to your room, you feel too exhausted to think. Purposefully, you take the quieter path, away from the prying eyes and their sharp tongues.

So you pass the garden, lost in your own mind, trying to assure yourself to keep it together. Just a little bit more. It has passed. You are doing a good job. You just need to stay strong a little bit longer.

But for how long...?

"I didn't see you in the dining hall."

A deep, raspy voice startles you -- you're drawing blank on your mental defense, rendering you to stare wide-eyed at the voice owner. The Grandmaster is standing in the garden, still dressed in the formal blue hanfu, still looking so distinguished despite the hours of loud celebration and exhausting conversations.

You bow, "Forgive me, Grandmaster, I didn't know you'd be here."

"Spare the formality; we are alone." He beckons with a tilt of his head, and like a dog on a leash, you approach him. "Like I said, I didn't see you."

His words confuse you. Surely he did see you; you sat at the assigned seat where you can see each other; it was his plan after all. If you were to sit beside him, the uproar would be much worse than the festive dinner you just walked out of.

"I sat where you wanted me to. Did someone block your line of sight?” You carefully ask; the last thing you need is to have your Grandmaster be upset with you, a nobody hunter of the Lin Kuei.

But your Grandmaster, your Bi-Han, your lover, shakes his head. He raises a hand to your face, and your heart leaps, your mind screams -- the memory of some other hand in the past makes you flinch and close your eyes in the present.

"Y/n..." Bi-Han calls, voice a soft whisper, and touch a gentle caress against your cheek. His fingertips are cold, but his palm is warm, cupping your face. You are being pulled closer by his other hand around your waist, and soon you feel his forehead pressing against yours.

The cold fingers a startling wake up call. It pulls you out of the abyss faster than any method you know. It holds you, engulfs you, that you soon can feel the ground beneath your soles, the night air mixing with Bi-Han's warm breath, the soft silk of his hanfu under your gripping hands, his steady heartbeat --

"Come back to me..." He asks, a careful demand, a plea. "You are here yet you are also so far away. I do not understand what ails you, but if you let me, I can try. It is cruel -- the Gods put you into battle with something unseen, whilst we both know I would fight it with you. I would win it for you."

His forehead is exchanged with his lips, warm, shaky, pressing against your skin. He then holds you closer, tighter, encasing you as if he is shielding you.

You try to reply, voice being held tight by an invisible noose from your tightening chest. A sob comes out instead. The dam of your restrained tears finally breaks, unleashing your cry -- your knees buckle, too tired, but the ground never claims you when Bi-Han holds you steady; his presence a strong tether that keeps you from sinking.

Neither of you says a word. Neither of you need to, even when the cold air of the garden turns into the warmer air of his bedroom, when your weak form is curling on his bed, still being held by him. His usually stern gaze shows sympathy and concern as he looks at you. Lips moving, asking, "What do you feel?"

You shake your head. Can't articulate your feelings. Can't make heads or tails of your ordeal.

"What do you need?" Bi-Han wipes your wet cheeks with his thumbs. "Did anyone disrespect you? Tell me their names, and I will make sure they won't repeat their mistakes again." When you shake your head again, his eyebrows curve upwards to his forehead, "Please, tell me what you need..."

You inhale shakily, "S-stay... Please, stay with me..."

"You foolish little thing, you need not to ask, I am not leaving."

"I'm sorry -- I'm sorr -- sorry --" then your composure breaks, and your cries come out a bit more liberally, truthtfully it terrifies Bi-Han. Your apology is unending; you want to make sure he knows you are sorry for being so weak and pathetic in front of him; you don't want to make him second-guess your relationship; you can't lose him too...

He doesn't need to ask. Doesn't need to pry more. He stays there unmoving, watching your eyes, the ebb and flow of your unsteady self returning to the present. There is a light in his gaze when you begin to 'exist', when you begin to crave more of his cold touch, when you are not far away in your mind anymore.

"Bi-Han..." You rasp.

He heaves a sigh of relief. His rare smile shows when you repeat his name again. "There... Now I can see you..."

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

A Requested Birthday Gift

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY DARLING NOVELIST MY MAIN MY HEART MY -screaming- also i totally reference this fic lol

Rated Explicit | Warning: threesome, consensual use of drugs

“Hypnos,” You stop midway heading toward your room for a much-needed nap when the Novelist approaches you, “Do you have a moment?” Politely and gentlemanly he strolls over invading your personal space, his hand caressing your cheek giving you the physical affection you much needed. Post-match aches are annoying like it is how you imagine phantom pain is, it lingers and you often seek comfort or nap it away.

“Anytime for you.” Closing your eyes as you tilt your head to the side basking in his presence and touch.

“How easily you say such things,” Orpheus’ hand slips down your cheeks until his fingers dance upon your chin. Tracing your jawline, he moves much closer until his other hand holds your waist, body moving and guiding you, “I shall take you up on your word.”

Orpheus is smooth, well aware, and skilled in getting you to bend to his will, have you pressed against the wall in the hallway to the private guest bedrooms. Your hand goes to his chest grabbing his suit coat tugging him even closer as he kisses you. Sweet, reminding you he misses your presence, and then consuming as wants your attention completely on him.

“Orpheus.” Breathy as he switches from your lips to your neck, “We should go to– Oh!” His leg is between yours applying pressure to your crotch.

“In a moment, allow me to be adventurous, my little writer.”

You nod trying to keep your mind in the presence and not drift off giving into the sensations of his touch.

“I have a request for you,” He is careful not to remove clothes though it is tempting as he kisses your neck and under your chin, “A personal request.”

“A-anything.” Barely able to stay focused.

The Novelist smirks before holding your face to look directly at him, “It pertains to my– Our birthday, my love.”

You blink to regather yourself, “Oh? Do you want to change plans?”

“Of sorts, we would like your permission to try something new with you.”

Something new? You raise an eyebrow while biting your lip as Orpheus rubs your crotch against his thigh, it makes you nearly distracted, “Okay, ah, I am at your ah ah Orpheus!” Covering your mouth when you moaned far too loud.

“At my…?” Teasing you as he keeps going, “Grant us permission.”

“All that I am is yours to use as you wish.” Poetic and romantic, needy and wanting, he adores his little writer.

“I shall hold you to that.” Kissing your cheek as he removes himself from your person, “Find us in the library.” Whispering in your ear.

You shiver both aching and yearning, you wish he would finish what he started but you know the reward is at the end.

Especially when us mean both Nightmare and himself.

Orpheus leaves you after giving you a heated kiss, one that leaves you further flustered than what you are. When he leaves, you adjust your clothes to look decent before moving away from the wall to chase after him.

The door of one the room opens and you turn to see Luchino leaning against the door frame with a casual and clearly known smile.

“Seems you'll be having a bit of fun,” The older man says, it is a bit embarrassing to know he heard all that, “Orpheus restraining himself after such words spill out of his lover is commendable.” A clap before he moves to return to his room, “Good evening, Hypnos.”

God, you are lucky it was the Professor and misfortune it was the Professor who heard that.

The library is well secluded, rarely anyone but the Journalist or Novelist come here. You have a few times but again it is always empty. Yet, you still try to keep your voice down despite the library always being seemingly avoided.

You can wonder about that later, right now you are barely able to keep your mind from drifting to that pleasant numbing abyss brought to you by Orpheus.

Orpheui because there is more than one? That makes you giggle as Nightmare is rubbing his beak against your face, that rough two-tone voice saying your name followed by a chuckle when you try closing your held open legs.

“Such a lovely voice, my love.” Orpheus speaking from between your legs, he kneeling with his hand guiding Nightmare's unseemly large cock against your well prepared hole. “Let us see how long you can keep using it, hm?” The cock, of dark purple coloring with precum glowing purple, catches and enters your wet heat.

“Ah!” You have taken his cock before with plenty of prep, but God, it is always a deep stretch inside of you. Nightmare groans, his grip on your legs a bit firmer as he lowers you carefully.

“Beautiful, truly.” The Novelist made sure before doing this to have your explicit permission before attempting this. There is a drink he used on himself and a mutual acquaintance that he gave to you, a cocktail of an aphrodisiac based along with alcohol— He made sure it is extra sweet for you. It is both to help with handling Nightmare (who is enjoying himself watching you attempt to ride him), and to last longer— You are not very well trained yet in lasting more than a round with either of them.

“Easy, easy,” Nightmare speaks as he rests your legs on top of his open legs, “We have you.” His hands on your waist as Orpheus stands up to hold your upper body, your hands reaching out yearning to be touched again.

“Say what you need.” They both speak to you, your eyes struggling to focus on who is in front of you. When you open your mouth literal gibberish comes out with whiny moans. Your hands gripping and tugging on his open shirt begging, or trying to form words, for them to start using you.

With lack of awareness, you spill easily how badly you are enthralled by Orpheus— Both of them.

“Next time a lower dosage,” Touching your face, examining your dilated eyes, the way you cannot properly form words, and neediness behavior. “Oh, dear one, you are enjoying this quite well.”

His gift is you, you who has given him a new perspective. Orpheus loves you, they both do terribly so, the thought of him once more not having you will never be entertained.

“Orpheus!” The raven creature is not willing to wait for his counterpart to enjoy the sight.

“Good, you can say our name.” Praising you as he pets your hair affectionately, “However, I am going to need to use your mouth for my own pleasure, Hypnos.”

You nod but he doubts you actually know what you are agreeing with, he will only take as he usually does.

Using your mouth on Orpheus’ cock, Nightmare uses your inviting hole, delighting in their gift.

Even better is you stopped caring about how loud you are, all that matters is him him him.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

hii a little bit ago I ask if you could write loc dead x fem reader who self harms and I loved the one you wrote but could you please write another one 💕

I will hold you

warning : hurt/comfort, self-harm, emotional, kissing, no use fo Y/n

Info : Yeah I remember your request hope you like this one and have fun reading even if it's a little short but regardless have fun reading ;)

masterlist

Disclaimer : I don't want to glorify anything it's about the actors who play a role, not the real events.

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

Pain. Pain is something that everyone feels at some point, whether it's when you hurt yourself cutting fruit, when you get a stomach ache from laughing or when you're just sad.

But there have also been days, weeks, months, years and decades when you can't get rid of pain. Something that gets stuck in you and hurts you with every passing day.

He knew it, the blond singer of the band knew this feeling, he experienced it every day and could only soften it slightly through the music with his heart by his side. But exactly this pain had captured him and his girlfriend, the one he loved, who was like the light at the end of the tunnel. But even this light can grow dimmer from time to time.

A light that is permeated by pain, a light that has been destroyed by fire, by ice, by metal and by his own body. He had tried it himself and had gone into this spiral abyss, but he had overcome it for a few days at a time and had now somewhat accepted it and survived.

But it was always painful for him when he caught his heart interrupting him and he went home to the room in the house they all shared. He didn't feel the smell of fire after a fire, it was different.

,,Darling! I'm back!" he called into the house, hearing something fall to the floor before he ran upstairs to her, the door to the room was torn open without a lock before he saw that she had thrown the lighter to the floor, the knife lying next to her, but the look of fear, rejection, pain he saw on her face was the most painful thing he had ever seen. That look he knew was a cry for help, a scream that only gave surface to her pain.

A pain they both knew, something they shared and yet hid prematurely. Sometimes, however, they bumped into each other and saw what was going on inside the other.

But the fire they both had not seen for a long time. ,,Wait, darling, just wait a moment," he said hastily, running out of the room and into the bathroom where he grabbed the first-aid kit, which was still more than half full, but it would do.

The crying he heard from her was sad and lonely in her current state. Something that bothered him she shouldn't suffer and yet this was easier said than done as he knew it was painful.

They both knew that this life was painful but life should never be like this. ,,Here I am," he said and knelt down in front of her, wordlessly yet gently taking her arm, the burns and cuts not too deep but the pain of this brief redemption was something she had felt without seeing the end.

,,I'm sorry," she murmured, tears flowing down her cheeks and hiding behind her hand as her friend touched her. She tried to soothe a little while he disinfected the wounds and cleaned the burn cream they had bought just for this.

,,It's not okay, I'm here…it could have been worse but my heart I'm here okay it's going to be okay" he talked to her as he sealed the bandages around her wounds with tape and pulled her into his arms.

Her sniffling mumbles of apology only caused him to hold her tighter. Just stay with me for today, we'll get through this," he reassured her, kissing her head softly, listening to her crying gradually become less and less.

Maybe she even had hope that she could now see the light at the end of the tunnel and not the other way around. He was her light in times when she knew how hard it was. But in the end they would make it, they had always made it somehow and they were making it today.

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

[sofiiel]

Eddie x Reader Comfort:

A/n: hehe, this turned out longer than that I'd initially had in mind. Written with a sweet anon in mind ❤ I hope this is something along what you are looking to see.

Warnings: Fluff. Drained reader. Soft Eddie. Written from phone ~ tried to weed out mistakes. Not really warnings but, you know.

Eddie falling into that serious tone and channeling his feelings into you the only way he knows how, when you've been shutting out the world.

It's been weeks, and he's only gotten very short phone calls from you every couple of days.

When you do spend time together, you've fallen silent and the mental and physical exhaustion shows on your face.

Eddie knows you're going through it, and he trusts you'll open up to him when you're ready. You always do.

But this time, watching you settle at the bottom of the depths causes a fresh ache in his chest, that ache whirling into wildly trashing levels of love.

Love louder than genre he's worshiped for so long.

He needs to flood you with it. If you are to be sunken in the depths, he would have you drown in a warm, soothing spa than a frigid abyssal ocean.

So he asks to come over.

"I swear, you don't even have to get out of bed, don't get dressed. I won't either. Let's just be." He told you over the phone.

Unable to deny that voice, you agree, and the next morning Eddie announces himself as he enters with the key you gave him.

You meet him half way, and he's in his comfy clothes, padding about in Jesus sandals he wouldn't be caught dead in public.

He's got a worn stuffed animal that looks like it hasn't seen daylight in years. A sheet, a spare shirt and a mixed tape.

You see, you being quiet gave him a lot of time to plot.

The master story weaver and adventure guide has had his mind turning all this time.

First thing first, he greets you with a hug. Pulling you into his arms, lightly caressing your back, "my sweet song" he murmurs.

Oh, he's using that term for you? That always promises you're in for a tidal wave of feelings. That rare sugary pet name.

He tilts your chin to look up at him and faintly winces at the struggle in your eyes as he searches them.

Eddie plants little feathery kisses across your face, taking his time slowly. Letting them linger.

When he finally goes in to kiss your lips, you melt into it like cotton candy on his tongue.

His hand rests on your neck, tenderly stroking the skin with his thumb.

If the world was going to be rough with you, he would be soft, he would let himself become pure cotton, velvet, will around you.

Breaking the kiss, Eddie rests his forehead against yours, "let me in? Just a little. We don't have to talk about it. Deal?" He asks.

"Deal." You answer.

Eddie takes your hand and offers you a smile. "Good, cause I'm gonna make your space nice and cozy with my spell." He says, leading you to your room.

He pats your mattress, bidding you to sit, and the moment you do he enfolds you in the sheet he brought.

"Breathe deep." Eddie lulls with a faint smirk on his face.

You're curious about the hint of mischief in his tone but take a deep breath. Doing so bathes you in the comforting scent of home away from home.

Leather, carpet deodorizer dust, faint tobacco and cannabis, that new shoe smell, beer and Eddie. The smell of his room.

You pull the sheet around yourself tighter and flash him a tiny smile.

It's not much, but it makes his heart do little cartwheels in his chest.

He reaches out to rub your cheek.

"There's that gorgeous smile." He said teasingly.

Eddie then nabs one of your pillows, stuffing it inside his spare shirt like a pillow case.

"You just crush this sucker with all your might when you need to." He says fluffing the pillow. "And let it soak up every tear and scream and sleep talking and drool you got when I'm not here." He said.

Eddie passed you the pillow, and you hug it to your chest. It feels like him, and it too carries his scent. His soap, his shampoo, his fragrance, the smell of his skin.

Reaching into his back pocket, he holds up a tap, "this is for when I leave. Hit play, whenever you need me but want your space. For now, it's a surprise." He says.

He pops it in the player without turning it on and goes to join you on the bed.

Laying down, Eddie settles in before holding his arms out to you. Naturally, you nestle against him as his arms surround you. His body radiates, feeling like Sundays on your skin.

His heartbeat thrums in your ear and against the palm of your hand as you rest against his chest.

"I can't stop everything that aims to hurt you. I mean, I'm gonna damn well try. But for what I can't, I'd like to face it with you" he rambled given you a squeeze.

Maybe you murmur about not wanting to bother him, how you don't want to burden him, how you don't want him to always have to see you like this. How you don't want to make him feel bad or exhaust him too.

Eddie chuckles softly.

"You could never." He says.

"Babe, I live for your dark days. Your happy is stunning. But Christ, if your darkest hours don't make beautiful." He says.

You shift to look up at him, and he's gazing deep into you with that meaningful haze across his eyes. Like the world around him faded away and there was only you.

He kisses your forehead.

"If anything, I love you harder in times like these." He whispers.

"Yeah, I don't want you to feel like this. I don't want everything to feel like it's shitting on you. I don't want you in the trenches." He explains.

"But I also don't want you hiding from me. I can take it, it's your fight and you are surviving it. So let me kiss your scars, lick those wound and drink those tears. They're just strength, filling up to the brim and spilling over." He says.

If you start to cry he does just that, kisses the tears away.

He lets you vent your battle into his chest, he lets you squeeze him. He doesn't care if it's in the form of tears, shouting, rambling, or silence. He's listening.

Eddie is drawing random shapes on your back and shoulder. He is playing footsy with your toes, he's stroking the top of your head and running his fingers down your scalp. Or playing with your fingertips.

When you start to calm, he will hum your favorite songs. Now and then, whispering his love or praises into your ear.

Simply stating "I'm here"

From then on, you spend the day however you wish, Eddie showering you in his own special love language.

And when the time comes that he's gone home and everything takes over. You pop in that tap, curl up in bed in your sheet and lay down to hug your eddie-fied pillow.

You hear the melody of Eddie's guitar playing and acoustic session.

"Side A is for comfort, babe. Side B is when you wanna rage." Eddie's voice speaks calmly. "Sit back and enjoy, love you - always."

And side B is Eddie shredding on Sweetheart the most insane heartfelt solos you could imagine. The sound of an angry, frustrated, aching soul reaching out to unify with yours.