#my heart won’t stop pounding and my blood feels cold

[luxuriant-starlight]

damn. having c-ptsd is fucked up huh

[gojorgeous]

"MINE, MINE, MINE."

pairing: alpha!geto x omega!fem!reader summary: your doctor won’t refill your prescription until you’ve reset your cycle. you’re desperate for that refill, but geto’s not having it. content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), a/b/o dynamics, nsfw, dubcon? (reader doesn’t want a heat but it’s medically necessary (LMAO what)), established relationship, unprotected sex, breeding, praise, pet names, knotting, slight manipulation, dacryphilia, somnophilia, spit, blood, oral (fem!receiving), so much licking and smelling?, geto and reader are just downright feral LMAO, lmk if i missed anything. a/n: have y’all figured out that i have a breeding kink yet… anyway, this is the first a/b/o fic that i’ve ever written but i just read one and was feeling *inspired*. if people want i might do a prequel sort of thing for this that goes more in-depth about how they met and stuff. lmk! also, i have a vampire gojo fic planned hehe get ready bbs. if you want more of my omegaverse fics check out my alpha!gojo fic here! and remember, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! divider credit to: @cafekitsune wc: 5.2k

“No.” 

No? You shift in your seat, cold and plastic, sure you must have heard him wrong. 

“I’m sorry?” you ask. You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth, an anxious habit.

“I can’t refill the prescription. I’m sorry, but, frankly, it would be completely irresponsible of me to do so. I’m shocked your previous physician prescribed them for so long.” Fingers find yours and twine them together. Your eyes flash to Geto, but he’s only staring at your new doctor, staring with that furrow in his brow he only gets when he’s worried.

Your new, soon-to-be old, doctor sighs again, running a hand through his thinning white hair. “You need to have a heat as soon as possible, allow your body to recalibrate. Indefinite use of suppressants is dangerous and unhealthy. They are meant to manage your cycles, not stop them altogether.” 

Sweat beads on your palms. He can’t be serious. But it’s his first opinion. Surely there’s another option.

“I-I’m sorry, doctor. I don’t think I’m understanding.” 

Another glance at Geto reveals that he’s frowning now. When his eyes find yours you see the decision there, one he’s already made without you. Your stomach drops.

The doctor sighs and suddenly the walls of the office feel small, tight, suffocating. The twinge of alcohol and chemicals in the air makes your nose scrunch. “Let me say this clearly. I will not refill your prescription for suppressants, nor will any other reputable physician. You have been taking them continuously for far too long. You risk permanent damage should you delay a proper cycle any longer.” The doctor glances to Geto, then back to you. “Go home with your alpha and allow nature to take its course. It’s what’s best.” 

Your eyes widen with realization– you are not leaving this office with what you came for. Your heart pounds and your palms sweat. “Th-that can’t happen, doctor. I need my suppressants. My job- I can’t be out that long a-and Geto can’t either, we–” 

“We will go home,” Geto interrupts, and his tone is final. “Thank you, doctor, for the advice.” 

Geto pulls you to your feet, gently but firmly. He leaves no question about the fact that you’re leaving. You can feel the intensity radiating off him in waves. You ignore it. You turn to your new doctor, silently smiting him. Why did your old one have to retire?

“Doctor, you don’t underst–” 

“Thank you again,” Geto interrupts.

Before you can make another sound, another protest, Geto pulls you through the door, out of the office, and back to the car. He opens the door for you, as he always does, except this time you’re not so eager to accept his chivalry. 

“Suguru,” you bite out. His eyes meet yours, but they are surprisingly gentle. So calm. How is he always calm? 

“Just get in, baby. We’ll talk about it in the car.”

You debate saying no, but you can’t bring yourself to start a fight when he’s being so good. You grumble when you climb in, buckling your seatbelt before Geto can do it for you.

The engine revs to life, but you hardly notice. You’re already scrolling your phone, the search bar reading a simple and straightforward “doctors offices near me”. You scroll right past the first ten, for once in your life wanting a doctor that’s a little sketchy. You scroll further– still not sketchy enough. Someone who’ll give you the prescription you need, even if it’s not necessarily… ethical. Or maybe you could get some on the street? Surely there was some kind of dealing ring for that. There was a dealing ring for everything, right?

“What are you doing?” His voice is soft, but his fingers are tight around the steering wheel, skin stretched tight across his knuckles.

You lift your phone to your ear, dialing the first office that looked relatively shitty enough. “Getting a second opinion,” you answer. 

Suguru plucks the phone so swiftly from your fingers that you hardly even notice it’s gone. You see him end the call and slip it into his back pocket, out of your reach. 

“Hey!” You scramble across the center console, hopelessly grabbing at your lost phone, your last hope. 

Suguru grabs your wrist, restraining you far too easily for your liking. “You’re not getting it back,” he says. His eyes never leave the road. 

Your brows pinch and anger boils in your stomach. “This is not for you to decide. It’s my body.”

He glances at you, unconcerned. Still calm. “And you’re not in a headspace to be making a responsible decision about it, so I’m making it for you.”

Your jaw drops and you pry your wrist free of his grasp. You escape, but you know it’s only because he allows it. “I am of perfectly sound mind, thank you.” 

He shakes his head and sighs. “You’re blinded by desperation.” 

“It’s still not for you to decide!” When you don’t notice any change in his expression, you switch tactics– from anger to honesty. You let your face fall, let your true feelings creep through. “You know how much I hate it, Su.” 

Finally, he cracks. It’s instantaneous, the way he melts for you- the way the soft smile finds his lips and his hand finds yours, twining your fingers together. “I know, but you have to, baby. You heard the doctor.” 

You clench your jaw and avoid the sting of tears behind your eyes. You had heard the doctor, but you weren’t ready. Maybe next month, when you’d had more time to mentally prepare. 

Your skin crawled. You hated it, hated this. You hadn’t had a heat in years, avoiding them like the plague. You hated how vulnerable they made you, how they put you at the mercy of another. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Suguru– you did. You trusted him more than anyone, anything, but you still hated the feeling of being so completely helpless, so completely out of control, even if it was Suguru you were submitting to. 

For most of your life, you’d successfully hidden your omega status. With the help of suppressants, you’d passed as a beta until your early twenties. Then you met Geto. 

You’d met at work. He was cute, beautiful even, you’d thought, but he screamed alpha– and alphas could be dangerous, especially for hiding, unclaimed omegas like you. You’d stayed away as long as you could and, for a while, you were quite successful. You avoided him in the halls, sat at the opposite end of the table in meetings, replied to emails succinctly but politely. All was well until you’d been trapped in an elevator with him one morning, biting your lip anxiously as you waited to reach the twelfth floor. He’d smelled so good that day, perhaps due to an oncoming rut. You hadn’t been able to resist inching closer, taking deeper breaths. Suguru would later tell you that he’d suspected your hidden status, but he had no reason to question you. At least, not until he had you up against the elevator wall with his face buried in your neck. One deep whiff was all he’d needed to know exactly what you were, even with suppressants in your system.

You’d dated for a little over a year, until you’d decided he was the one. Your fingers dust over the mate mark on your throat, the one that had not only made you undoubtedly Suguru’s, but also the one that had revealed to the world exactly what you were. There was no hiding your true identity with an alpha’s scarred mark on your neck. 

Suguru had never seen you through a heat– no one had. You’d taken your suppressants daily, ever since you met him and even long before that. He’d claimed you on a day like any other, no heat necessary. He hadn’t had a rut in all these years, either. When he felt one coming on all he had to do was pop a single pill and all was well– apparently with none of the nasty side effects that came along with your suppressants. Another unfair privilege of being an alpha you supposed. 

“Sugu, I can’t do this.” Your lip is raw from how much you’ve been chewing on it by the time you reach home. 

Suguru softly shuts the door behind you, lifting your twined hands to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles. 

“Yes you can. I know you can.” 

You shake your head. He doesn’t understand– doesn’t know what this will do to you, how it will break you. While you hadn’t had a heat in years, you had experienced them before. You loathed them more than anything, loathed the way your mind was a slave to your body and not the other way around, loathed the way your whole body pulsed and throbbed, loathed the way it made you feel so… weak. “I can’t. It’s-it’s-” Your hands come up to cover your face. You sigh and feel the blush crawling beneath your cheeks. “It’s embarrassing. Humiliating.” 

There’s silence for a moment, and then a soft sight. Suguru pries your hands from your face gently. When you meet his eyes, he’s all business.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, baby.” 

You shake your head and pull away, pacing. “I don’t want anyone to see me like that, Sugu. Not even you.” 

Strong hands catch your waist, holding you still. “It’s not a question. It’s happening– for the sake of your health.” 

You scoff and shake your head. “It’s not–” 

His thumb presses to your lips with just enough pressure to demand silence. The omega in you coos to listen, to submit– the other part of you reels with annoyance.

“End of discussion.” 

He’s closer now and you can feel waves of his breath skating across your skin. It’s like a drug, one that the primal side of you can never get enough of. Give in, give in, give in, your omega begs. Listen to your alpha… You try not to focus on the fact that he smells good enough to eat. You know what he’s doing– using his dynamic to persuade you, to make you see his way, playing to the omega you can usually hide so carefully.

“Sugu…” you say. You intend to be angry but you trail off when his eyes catch yours. 

“I got you, baby.”

Your heart melts at the words. He waits. Maybe he knows that the smell of his skin on yours is playing tricks on your mind. You wage a battle within. Every instinct urges you to agree and with every passing second it becomes harder to disagree. Perhaps he’s right, perhaps it's time you give in for once. Let him take care of you, your omega purrs. You’re nodding before you realize what you’ve done.

Suguru kisses you quickly, allowing no time for takebacks. When he pulls away he gets to work. He whips his phone from his pocket and you listen to him talking to his boss, your boss, saying that you’ll both be out of work for a week on “family” leave. Your face heats when you realize that your boss now knows exactly what you two are going to be doing for the foreseeable future. Suguru kisses you one last time before he’s out the door, off to get enough food and supplies to last a week. You won’t be leaving your apartment for some time. You don't fail to notice that he doesn’t return your phone before he’s gone.

~

You don’t notice a difference, even after the sun is gone. It’s not surprising, considering you usually take your suppressants at night– it’ll take a little while longer for them to fully exit your system… you hope. When you’re brushing your teeth you stare at the empty prescription bottle longingly. 

You join Suguru in bed. The moment you crawl onto the mattress he pulls you closer into his bare chest. You savor the way your bodies fit so perfectly- like he was meant for you and you alone. His front curls around your back, a leg slotted between your thighs. 

“Feel anything?” he asks. 

You shake your head to hide your swallow. You almost shiver when Suguru buries himself in your neck, inhaling your scent. You feel him harden against your backside. He must be able to smell your approaching heat even before you can. Part of you expects instinct to take hold of him, for him to make a move, but he only presses a kiss to your jaw and holds you tighter. 

“Sleep, baby.” 

For once, you follow orders without a fight.

–

Hot. Too hot. 

When your eyes flutter open, you feel the pounding of your heart, the labor of your breath, and the growing ache between your legs. 

You sit up so fast you see stars, panic flooding your veins. No, no, no, no, no. This was wrong, you’d made the wrong choice. You couldn’t do this. Already, you could feel control slipping from your grasp, your consciousness giving way to something more primal, more feral. You scramble, preparing to stand, to find your phone, to lock yourself away and suffer through this on your own.

“Deep breaths, baby.” 

Only then do you realize Suguru is already awake. He’s behind you, hands on your shoulders, both a comfort and a restraint. 

“Can’t-” Your breaths are ragged and so are your words. “Can’t do this, Sugu-” 

“Yes, you can.” He whispers. He pulls you closer, tighter against him. “You will.” 

You shake your head frantically, tears pooling on your lashes. When you turn, Suguru is staring at your neck, at the mate mark on your throbbing pulse. His jaw is clenched when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He’s restraining himself, you realize. A glance down reveals he’s already painfully hard in his pants. You wonder how long he’s been sitting there, taking in your scent, waiting for you to wake. No doubt his rut has already been triggered.

His eyes raise to yours and he pauses at the tears that leak down your cheeks. He leans closer, and the scent emanating from his neck makes you groan against your will. His kisses away the tears. Slowly, one at a time. 

“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.” 

Your body pulls him closer, even as your mind pushes back. “My phone, Sugu,” you panic. “Gotta gimme my phone. C-call a new doctor.” 

He shakes his head and when you start to squirm he only holds you tighter, holds you in place. 

“No, baby.” 

You whimper, seeking the scent gland on his neck against your will. The smell makes your clit throb almost painfully. 

“Sugu, please,” you cry. Tears stream from your eyes, staining your lover’s skin. 

“‘S gonna be okay. Just let it happen. Don’t fight it, love.” 

With each passing moment, you feel your fight slipping further and further away. Suguru rubs at the muscles in your back until you’re slumped against him, pitifully moaning like a wounded animal. It’s not long before your body takes the reins, until you start desperately humping at his thigh, your clit throbbing almost painfully. 

“That’s it. Good girl.” 

Your eyes roll back at the praise and when Suguru grips your waist you cry out at the touch. Everywhere his skin meets yours feels electric. You’re burning, burning, burning. It’s not until Suguru lays you down on your back that you see the sopping patch of slick you’ve left on his thigh. You whimper at the sight. 

“‘S okay, baby. ‘Ve got you.”

Suguru is looking nearly as lost to the lust as you are. Only his willpower and intent keep him from shredding away your panties and breeding your cunt full that very second. He’s never been in the presence of a scent so intoxicating. He’s never been with you, or any omega, through a heat. He thought you smelled amazing before, but now… He is lost to you, lost to the heat he feels emanating from every inch of your skin, to the honeyed scent pouring from your neck, to the slick he sees staining through your panties. His dick twitches in his pants. 

“Love you so much, baby. Gonna take such good care of ya,” he whispers. Instinct drives him forward until he’s plastered his lips to your jaw, licking and biting at the skin. You nearly scream at the sensation. You feel his touch everywhere, all at once. With your last coherent thoughts you know that this heat will be unlike any other you’ve ever experienced. It’s already so intense you can hardly think, and you’ve only just begun.

“Sugu,” you plead. 

The sound of his name on your lips breaks him. His hand dips across your stomach, thumbing past the edge of your panties until he’s running his finger through your slit, gathering your slick and rubbing it against your clit. 

You scream and thrash, so sensitive it nearly hurts, but he only moves to pin you beneath him, forcing you to take everything he gives. 

“Gonna make you feel ‘s good, baby.” he hums. He’s lost to you, to your desires, to your needs. Every piece of him screams to please you, to take care of you, in every way possible.

He continues his messy circles on your clit and until you’re gasping, hole clenching around nothing, begging to be filled. 

“S-Sugu…” you whine.

The growl that rips from his throat has you arching your back and bearing your throat in an act of submission. You hear a tear and watch your panties hit the floor. Your shirt follows and then you’re completely bare beneath your alpha. His eyes go black at the sight, pupils blown so wide you can hardly see a smidgen of their usual brown. There’s a deep rumble in his chest that has you keening and reaching for him, needing him. He doesn’t waste time. His tongue finds your neck, laving sloppily at your scent gland and the sensation is so delicious that you writhe beneath him. 

His fingers slide down your stomach, dipping between your thighs and rubbing at your clit. The touch is somehow gentle despite the complete and total hunger in his eyes, but it has you whining nonetheless. Every place he touches you, which is nearly everywhere, stings so delightfully that your eyes are already rolling back.

But you can’t wait. You can’t. Your body is starved, rabid, and you know what you need.

“Ssssugu… please…” your words are hardly above a whisper, barely a breath, but your alpha still hears you, still knows what you want, what you need. 

“I got you, baby… shhhhh…” He gives a final lick to your scent gland before he’s leaning back on his knees, parting your thighs wide, exposing your leaking cunt. You can feel a puddle of slick beneath your ass, your hole clenching desperately around nothing, aching to be filled. 

Warm hands slide up your skin and settle on your hips, tugging you a little further down the bed. You whimper, but don’t have time to say anything before you feel him slipping through your folds. A glance down reveals his weeping tip, achingly flushed, bumping and rubbing against your clit. When did his pants come off? You don’t know, you don’t care, all that matters is that the sight steals your breath away. 

“Gonna knot you good, princess.” 

You nod, wanting nothing more than for him to make good on his promise. You claw and grip at his arms, chanting his name endlessly. His chest rumbles again and your thighs part further on instinct. Finally, he gives you what you want. You feel him pressing in, fat tip stretching you wide. One of his hands moves to press down on your tummy and the combination has tears pooling in your eyes. 

He slides in slowly. With every inch you think he must be done, that you can’t take any more. But you can, and you do. When he’s finally fully in your jaw is hanging open in ecstasy and your eyes are rolled back in your skull. His fingers brush your clit and your hips jerk. 

“That’s it. So good, baby. So fucking good.” 

Your tears flood over, racing down your cheeks. He’s over you again, loose strands of black hair brushing your skin and forcing a whimper from your throat. He licks away your tears, lapping at your cheeks like you’re a fucking lollipop. His hips start thrusting in time with his licks, and it’s more than you can handle. Your thighs tremble and suddenly you’re begging. Pleading, whining, screaming for more. He gives it to you. One hand finds yours, twining your fingers together as he pounds into you so hard he’s rattling your skull. He’s licking at your scent gland again, driving you further and further toward a cliff you’re afraid to fall from. You think this orgasm might shatter you, might break you so thoroughly you’ll never be put back together again. You can feel it tightening at your core with each thrust, each lick, each kiss. 

“Fuck,” you hear him growl and whimper at the sound of his voice so close to your ear. “‘M gonna bite you, princess. Gonna mark you up and knot you so good you’ll see fucking stars.” You pant beneath him, unable to word how excited you are by his words, how deliciously they roll across your skin and seep into your spine. “Tell me you didn’t take your pill, baby. Tell me I can breed this pussy full and it won’t go to waste.” He’s not talking about your suppressants you know, but rather the contraceptives you take in tandem with them. Of course you took it, but suddenly something makes you wish you hadn't. “‘M gonna flush ‘em down the fucking toilet. Never letting you take that shit again.”

The primal part of you surges forward at the idea. It chants deep in your mind. Yes, yes, yes…

“Suguuu… please…” It seems like those are the only words your tongue can form.

His lips press to yours, shushing you. “Shhh, baby. Don’ worry. I got you.” He licks across your cheek and down across your jaw until he finds your scent gland again. His thrusts pick up again and you think you might pass out from how good you feel, from how tight your muscles are coiling. You can feel his knot pulsing inside you, preparing to fill you to the brim. You’ve never felt more ready for anything. 

“Sugu–” 

And it’s at that moment that he makes good on his promise. His teeth sink into your neck and you feel your bond snap taut like a string, pulsing with the closeness of your connection. It’s pure ecstasy. Suguru’s knot swells, notching tightly inside you and when you feel his cum pulsing into your womb it’s all too much. You think you must be screaming from the pleasure but you only hear the ringing in your ears as your orgasm washes over you. Your muscles clench, your toes curl, your back arches, you see those stars Suguru promised. Heat tingles through your limbs and down your spine and you think you’ve probably just melted into the mattress. But you haven’t, and when your vision returns, you’re panting and staring at the ceiling. 

Suguru is above you and you can feel him still cumming, still releasing rope after rope of thick, hot cum into you. The sensation makes you groan and he laps at your neck, cleaning up the blood from the new mark he’s just given you. Your consciousness trickles back in, the primal piece of you partially sated for the time being. You remember the context of your situation, why you’re here and not at work, what you’re doing. You’re puzzled by why you’d been so panicked by the idea of a heat before. How could you have been so reluctant, so scared, when nothing has ever felt this right?

Suguru is peppering you with kisses now, pulling you tight to his chest and rolling you both onto your sides where you’ll stay until his knot softens. 

“Sleep, princess,” he says and he uses that tone that always compels you to listen, to please. You happily do as he says and when your eyes drift shut it’s not long before you’re lost to a world of comfortable darkness. 

~

You wake to the throbbing again. All of the pent up need Suguru had sated has returned with a vengeance. You need him again, but it appears he already knows that. 

You feel him between your legs, his hair fully loose now and tickling the insides of your thighs. He’s eating you out, slurping up the cum that’s leaking down your thighs and spitting it back onto your cunt. It’s filthy, disgusting, and you love it.

“Sugu–” you gasp and your hips buck. His eyes lock with yours and the smile he gives you nearly makes you come on the spot. He holds your gaze as he licks one last long stripe over your folds. You whimper and clench around nothing. Empty, empty, empty…

“Sorry, baby,” he whispers against your skin. He’s kissing his way up your body now, leaving little circles of spit that cool when they touch the air and make you shiver. “‘Y smelled so good…” 

You whine and whimper, clawing at his back and leaving scratches you think might draw blood. You’re too worried about getting him inside of you to check.

You’re gasping like you’ve never had a breath of air in your life, like you’ve drowned and every touch he gives you fills your lungs with much-needed oxygen. His hands rub gently at your waist, but it’s not enough. You want him to wreck you, ruin you. You say as much. 

“M-more…” you beg and when he hums against your neck you squirm desperately. Warm hands dig into your flesh and suddenly you find yourself flipped onto your stomach. You feel Suguru behind you, pushing your thighs apart with his knees. His hands find your hips again and lift, propping you up with your face still pressed to the pillows. When you whimper he runs a soothing hand up and down your spine. 

“‘S okay, baby. Relax. Lemme take care ‘ve you.” 

Yes, yes, yes, you think. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more. His fingers dig into your skin, holding you still when he feeds his dick into you, one inch at a time. You cry out, tearing at the sheets and begging for more, even when you already feel like you’re splitting in half. When he’s finally seated inside you he drapes himself over your back, brushing your hair over one shoulder to expose your neck. He leans in to lick you again, thrusting sharply the moment his tongue brushes your skin. You wail, pressing your face to the sheets and attempting to rock yourself back against him. One of his hands smooths over the flesh of your ass as he sets a pace, one that makes you bite down on a pillow to muffle your screams. 

“No.” Suguru uses that tone that makes you listen, that one that calls instinctively to the omega inside you, that urges you to please. He reaches for your pillow, tossing it aside and letting his hand curl around your throat as he continues to fuck you, letting his fingers feel the vibrations of every noise you make. “Let me hear you, baby. Always let me hear you.” 

You nod, eager to make him happy, eager to do as he says. You don’t dare restrain a single sound, eyes rolling back. The angle he has you at has your thighs trembling. He’s so deep, so close. You feel his heartbeat against your back, feel his tongue on your skin, his hand on your throat, his cock at your cervix.

When he groans, you groan with him, feeling his dick pulse inside you, his knot beginning to swell. You need it, need it so bad you can hardly stand it. 

“P-please, please, please–”

He swells inside you, locking your bodies together as his orgasm hits. It’s all you need to find your own. You wail into the mattress, cunt clenching and legs trembling until you collapse, flattening against the beg. Suguru follows you down, wrapping his arms around your waist and whispering in your ear.

“Take it all, baby. Good girl. Take it all…” 

You nod, not even sure what you’re agreeing to. All you can feel is his cum flooding your insides, pulsing and pumping so deep into you that you swear your tummy is swelling with the sheer amount of it. Still, your body wants more, clenching and milking him for every last drop, just like he asked.

When you both come down from your orgasms he pulls you into his chest once again, whispering promises of protection and love that lull you into a trance-like state of happiness. When you fall asleep again, he’s chanting a word that your omega repeats right back to him. “Mine, mine, mine.”

When you wake again it’s to the sound of Geto staying true to his word and flushing every last birth control pill you have straight down the toilet. Your omega surges at the idea, but one mewl from you and he’s back in your arms, like you’re somehow the one in charge, not him. With every passing moment, you being to think that might be true- that perhaps a heat does not makes you as weak as you thought. Your alpha submits as much to you as you submit to him.

The week is spent in a frenzy. You do not measure by the numbers on the clock or where the sun is in the sky, rather you know time only as how long it’s been since Suguru’s been locked inside you. If it were up to you, you’d never stop, but Geto forces you to sleep, to eat, to bathe. Of course, he’s never far away when you’re following his instructions and you usually get a kiss and his knot as a reward for being such a good girl. 

It’s ten days later when your heat finally starts to wane. It feels as though every inch of you is covered in him. Bites, hickies, kisses, cum… no part of you has been left untouched. Suguru has had you everywhere. The bed, the shower, the bath, the kitchen. Every surface in the whole apartment reeks of sex and slick. He never keeps you too far from the bedroom, though, where you’ve piled up mountains of his shirts and sheets. Anything that smells like him, anything that can keep you tethered in those brief moments when Suguru goes to fetch you food or water or run you a bath. He takes care of you, just like he promised. 

When you wake completely clear-headed for the first time in well over a week, it’s to Suguru’s arms and lips. He’s got you all wrapped up in him, his arms locked around your waist almost like he expects you to bolt. You almost do when everything comes flooding back to you, this time with a completely clear conscience. But then he kisses your neck and whispers a delightful little, “welcome back, baby” against your neck and suddenly you’re realizing how… revitalized you feel, like a part of you has finally been properly satisfied after years of waiting. You’d always hated this, always hated the part of you that begged and cowered, hated heats- but maybe with Suguru… they really weren’t all that bad.

taglist (DM me to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina

link: alpha!gojo fic

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[novaursa]

The Flames We Carry

- Summary: Ser Criston Cole expected for Rhaenys and Meleys to appear over Rook's Rest. To Gwayne's horror, Rhaenyra sent her sister instead: you.

- Paring: targ!reader/Gwayne Hightower

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is Rhaeyra's younger sister and is bonded to Silverwing. These events happen after Skyfall. If you want to read all the parts in chronological order visit my blog, the list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mature 16+ (there is no adult content, but there are visual descriptions of violence, blood and gore)

- Word count: 3 712

- A/N: this was scheduled to be posted tomorrow, but I've decided post extra today. Enjoy.

- Tag(s): @deniixlovezelda @duck-duck-goose2 @aadu2173 @sachaa-ff

Ser Gwayne Hightower had always been a man torn between loyalty and desire, but never more so than in the days leading up to the siege at Rook's Rest. The tension between him and Ser Criston Cole had grown sharper since that fateful day when he let you—the Princess, Y/N—slip through his grasp before their march on Duskendale. He could still feel the warmth of your skin against his, the taste of your lips lingering like a ghostly memory, a sweet torment. You had been his time and time again, even if only in stolen moments, and each encounter had deepened the scars on his heart.

Gwayne knew he should be focusing on the battle ahead, yet his thoughts strayed back to you, his mind replaying that night over and over. The look in your eyes when you realized he would let you go, when you understood the depth of his feelings despite all the bitterness that lingered between your Houses. He had set you free, knowing full well it was an act of treason in all but name, and yet he would do it again if it meant sparing you the horrors to come.

But now, at Rook's Rest, everything was escalating rapidly. Ser Criston's scorpion ballistas and archers were poised in ambush, waiting for the dragon they expected: Rhaenys on Meleys. The war council had been clear, and Gwayne had heard it all through gritted teeth—Aemond and Aegon would flank her on Vhagar and Sunfyre, trapping her in dragonfire and steel. It was a ruthless plan, one that made his stomach churn. He had sworn to protect his family, his king, and yet all he could think about was you.

The skies darkened, a shadow sweeping over the encampment. The men tensed, eyes raised to the heavens as the flap of wings grew louder. Gwayne’s heart pounded in his chest as he looked up, expecting the crimson scales of Meleys. But what he saw instead made his blood run cold.

Silverwing.

The graceful, silvery-grey dragon, once ridden by Queen Alysanne, now bonded to you. Gwayne’s heart twisted painfully in his chest. This was not supposed to happen. It was not supposed to be you in the skies above, facing down two monstrous dragons with only the loyal Silverwing at your side. Panic clawed at his throat, his mind racing. He could see it in Criston's eyes too—the slight widening, the realization that their ambush had just become a slaughter. Not for Rhaenys, but for you.

“No…” The word slipped from Gwayne’s lips before he could stop it. Without a second thought, he rushed toward the nearest scorpion, where soldiers prepared to take aim at Silverwing. His vision tunneled, anger and fear boiling together in his veins. He couldn’t let this happen—not to you.

"Stand down!" Gwayne shouted at the soldiers, shoving one aside with enough force to send the man sprawling. The crew looked at him in confusion, but Gwayne didn’t care. He grabbed hold of the crank, making it impossible for them to load the bolt.

“What in the Seven Hells are you doing?!” Criston’s voice was a venomous hiss as he stalked toward Gwayne, eyes blazing with fury. “You’re sabotaging the plan! Move, or I’ll have you—”

Gwayne spun around, his hand already on the hilt of his sword. “I won’t let you do this, Criston. Not to her.”

Criston’s lip curled in disgust. “Her? You would betray your king, your House, for a traitorous whore who—"

The sound of steel rang out as Gwayne drew his sword, slashing at the scorpion mechanism, rendering it useless. The soldiers scattered, unwilling to get caught in the confrontation between two knights who had both earned their deadly reputations. Criston’s eyes narrowed, and in the blink of an eye, his sword was in his hand, the tip leveled at Gwayne’s chest.

“You’ll die for this treachery, Hightower,” Criston spat, the words laced with venom.

“I would die a thousand times before I let you kill her,” Gwayne growled back, his voice low and dangerous. “I won’t let you harm her.”

Above them, the roar of dragons filled the air as Silverwing engaged with Sunfyre and Vhagar. Dragonfire crackled like thunder, the heat from the flames casting an eerie glow over the battlefield. You were up there, fighting for your life, for your cause. Gwayne’s heart ached with every fiery burst, knowing that each moment could be your last.

Criston lunged, and Gwayne barely parried the strike in time. The two knights clashed, steel against steel, each strike filled with desperation and fury. Gwayne fought with everything he had, driven by the need to protect you, even if it meant cutting down one of his own.

“Do you think she cares for you, Gwayne?!” Criston taunted between strikes. “She’s a dragonrider, a princess—she’ll never be yours! You’re a fool!”

“I know what I am,” Gwayne snarled, knocking Criston’s sword aside and slamming his shoulder into the other man’s chest, sending him stumbling back. “But I also know what I feel. And I’ll not stand by and let you murder her.”

Criston recovered quickly, rage twisting his features as he advanced again. “She chose Daemon over you! The Rogue Prince—do you think she’ll remember your name when she’s ash?”

Gwayne roared in fury, his blade a blur as he pressed the attack. The sounds of battle, of dragons shrieking and flames roaring, were deafening, but all Gwayne could hear was the pounding of his own heart, the desperate need to get to you, to save you. But with every second that passed, his hope dwindled, and fear gnawed at the edges of his resolve.

Then, the ground trembled, a shockwave of heat and force rippling across the battlefield as a massive burst of dragonfire erupted nearby. Gwayne staggered, the distraction costing him as Criston’s sword sliced across his side. Pain flared, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to fall. He couldn’t afford to fall—not when you needed him.

But as the flames subsided, a silhouette emerged through the smoke—Silverwing, descending, with you astride her. Your eyes, burning with determination and fury, locked onto the scene below: Criston standing over a wounded Gwayne, ready to deliver the killing blow.

“Y/N!” Gwayne shouted, his voice raw with desperation.

You didn’t hesitate. With a command, Silverwing unleashed a torrent of dragonfire, forcing Criston to leap back, narrowly avoiding being consumed by the flames. In the brief reprieve, Gwayne stumbled to his feet, clutching his side.

Your gaze met his, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. The memory of that last kiss, of your shared moments, hung between you like an unspoken vow. Gwayne knew he had only seconds before the battle resumed, but in those few heartbeats, he saw the truth in your eyes—the love that had never truly died, the bond that still connected you, even through war and betrayal.

But there was no time for words. With a final, lingering look, you turned Silverwing toward the sky, preparing for the next wave of the fight. And as you ascended into the chaos once more, Gwayne knew he would fight until his last breath to protect you, even if the whole world stood against him.The battle raged on, but in that moment, Gwayne Hightower’s heart belonged to only one—you.

The battlefield below Rook’s Rest was a symphony of chaos and death, the sky a canvas painted with fire and blood. Gwayne could only watch in helpless agony as you and Silverwing clashed in the heavens with Sunfyre and Aegon, two dragons locked in a deadly dance of tooth and claw. Overhead, the monstrous shadow of Vhagar circled like a vulture, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Every screech of agony, every roar of defiance, was a knife twisting deeper into Gwayne’s chest.

On the ground, Criston Cole barked orders, his eyes fixed on the battle above. The soldiers scrambled, trying to reload the scorpions, but the dragonfire raining down made their task near impossible. Bolts flew haphazardly, striking neither dragon nor rider, only adding to the carnage below as men screamed, burning alive in dragonflame. Gwayne’s heart pounded in his ears, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the clash in the sky.

Silverwing and Sunfyre circled each other in a blur of flashing claws and snapping jaws, the air thick with the scent of burning flesh and blood. Gwayne could see the desperation in the way you leaned into every attack, urging Silverwing forward with a fury that matched his own. Aegon, though armored in golden scales and atop his mighty Sunfyre, was losing ground; he was not the rider you were, and Sunfyre, for all his pride, was no match for Silverwing’s speed and power.

“Hold fast, Sunfyre!” Aegon’s voice cut through the air, laced with both command and fear. But the king’s bravado was slipping. The once-proud Sunfyre shrieked in pain as Silverwing’s talons raked across his side, tearing through scales and flesh. Blood sprayed like rain, glistening in the sunlight before falling onto Criston’s soldiers below, causing them to scatter in panic.

Gwayne could feel his grip tightening on his sword as he watched, torn between the desire to cheer for your victory and the dread that this battle would consume you. Criston, standing nearby, had forgotten Gwayne entirely, his eyes alight with a mixture of awe and hatred. “If Sunfyre falls, so falls our king,” Criston muttered to himself, though Gwayne could hear the edge of panic in his voice.

But you would not give Sunfyre a moment of reprieve. Silverwing descended with fury, slamming into the golden beast with the force of a hurricane. The clash was brutal, teeth and claws tearing through scales, blood and fire mingling as the two dragons grappled. Sunfyre roared, a cry filled with both pain and rage, as Silverwing’s jaws clamped down on his wing.

“No!” Aegon’s scream echoed across the battlefield, his eyes wide with disbelief as Silverwing’s powerful muscles twisted and tore, shredding Sunfyre’s wing almost completely from its body. The golden dragon thrashed wildly, his flight faltering as the wing dangled uselessly by a thread of sinew and bone.

Gwayne’s breath caught in his throat, torn between elation and horror. You were winning, but at what cost? He knew what was coming next. Vhagar, that ancient beast of war, had been waiting for this moment. With a bellow that shook the very ground, the monstrous she-dragon descended like a nightmare from the skies, her jaws wide and hungry.

“Look out!” Gwayne shouted, knowing full well you couldn’t hear him from so far below. His heart thundered in his chest as Vhagar slammed into both Silverwing and Sunfyre with the force of a landslide. The three dragons collided in a tangle of limbs, scales, and teeth, a storm of rage and destruction. The impact was so fierce that Gwayne felt the ground shudder beneath him.

“No! No, no, no…” Gwayne whispered, his voice cracking as he watched the entangled dragons plummet toward the earth. You and Aegon were mere shadows against the backdrop of fire and smoke, barely visible as the dragons twisted and fell in a deadly spiral. Criston’s soldiers, caught between the descending juggernauts and their own fear, broke ranks, fleeing in every direction as the ground rushed up to meet the falling beasts.

Gwayne felt a cold dread settle in his bones as he watched you, desperately holding onto Silverwing’s saddle as the world blurred around you. You clung on with a ferocity that spoke to your will to survive, but against Vhagar’s ancient fury and Sunfyre’s desperate thrashing, even the mighty Silverwing was struggling.

Criston’s eyes were wild as he watched the battle unfold, his voice a harsh whisper of disbelief. “Vhagar will end it… she must end it…”

But Gwayne wasn’t watching Vhagar anymore. He was watching you. You were still fighting, still urging Silverwing to fight back, but the odds were overwhelming. Sunfyre’s golden scales were slick with blood, his roars more pitiful now as he struggled to right himself in the air. Silverwing’s wings beat furiously, trying to break free from Vhagar’s crushing grip, but the elder dragon’s jaws clamped down on Silverwing’s neck, dragging all three dragons toward the ground with terrifying speed.

The earth shook as the three dragons smashed into the battlefield, the impact sending up a cloud of dirt and debris. The sound was deafening—a sickening crunch of bone and screech of metal as the dragons collided with the earth. Gwayne’s heart dropped into his stomach, his eyes searching desperately through the smoke and dust for any sign of you.

“No…” he whispered, stumbling forward as if he could somehow reach you, somehow pull you from the wreckage of dragons and death. But even from here, he could see the carnage—Silverwing’s body twisted and battered, Sunfyre writhing in agony, and Vhagar looming above them all, a monstrous shadow of death.

For a heartbeat, the battlefield fell silent, every eye fixed on the wreckage of the fallen dragons. Gwayne’s breath was ragged, his eyes straining to catch a glimpse of you amidst the chaos. The dust began to settle, revealing broken bodies, shattered armor, and the mangled forms of the dragons.

And then he saw you—barely visible, still moving. You crawled from beneath Silverwing’s wing, blood streaking your face, your expression fierce even in the face of such overwhelming odds. Gwayne’s heart leaped into his throat. You were alive. Against all the odds, you had survived the fall.

But the battle was far from over. Vhagar’s malevolent eyes fixed on you, a deep rumble echoing from her throat as she prepared to finish what she had started. Aegon, still clinging to the last shreds of his pride, shouted commands to Sunfyre, but the once-majestic dragon was crippled, struggling even to rise.

Gwayne turned to Criston, his voice hoarse with desperation. “Do something! Call them off—she’ll be slaughtered!”

But Criston’s eyes were cold, devoid of mercy. “It’s too late, Hightower. She made her choice.”

Before Gwayne could respond, a deafening roar split the air as Vhagar reared back, ready to unleash a final torrent of fire upon you and Silverwing. Gwayne’s breath caught, knowing he was powerless to stop what was coming. All he could do was watch in helpless horror as the monstrous she-dragon prepared to strike.

But in those last moments, your eyes locked onto his. Even from across the battlefield, Gwayne saw the fire in your gaze—the unyielding determination, the refusal to surrender, even in the face of certain death. It was a look that would be seared into his memory forever.

And as Vhagar’s jaws parted, ready to unleash death upon the field, Gwayne did the only thing he could—he prayed. For you, for Silverwing, and for the love that had been forged in the fires of war.

It felt like time itself had slowed, the moments stretching into agonizing eternity. His breath hitched as the flames began to build in Vhagar’s throat, the light of impending destruction flickering in her maw. It would be over in seconds—everything would be lost.

But then, with a burst of speed that took even Gwayne by surprise, Silverwing jolted forward, her wings beating with desperate strength. As Vhagar’s jaws parted to unleash her fiery death, Silverwing struck. The smaller, silvery dragon lunged at Vhagar’s exposed throat, her teeth sinking into the tender scales. Her bite was unrelenting, fueled by both fury and the need to protect you. Vhagar’s flame sputtered out in a roar of agony, the ancient beast thrashing wildly as she tried to shake off the determined Silverwing.

Gwayne’s eyes widened in awe and terror. Silverwing’s tail snapped like a whip, striking Vhagar’s head with a force that reverberated across the battlefield. The blow landed squarely on Vhagar’s eye, the sound of bone and scale cracking sickeningly loud. The she-dragon’s roar of pain was a monstrous, guttural cry that seemed to shake the heavens. Even Aemond, usually so composed in battle, shouted in fury and alarm, yanking hard on the reins to regain control of his wounded dragon.

Gwayne knew he had only moments to act. Blood was streaming down your face, and even from a distance, he could see the exhaustion and pain etched into your features. You laid on the ground, barely holding on to life as Silverwing thrashed against Vhagar’s deadly strength. It was a miracle you had survived this long, but that miracle was on the brink of shattering. Gwayne’s decision was made in an instant, despite the searing pain in his side and the chaos around him.

Nearby, a riderless horse whinnied in terror, its eyes rolling as it tried to flee the madness. Gwayne gritted his teeth, limping toward the panicked creature. “Easy, girl,” he rasped, wincing with every step. The horse reared, wild with fear, but Gwayne moved with surprising swiftness, grasping the reins and swinging himself into the saddle with a grunt of pain. Blood stained his tunic from his earlier wound, but he forced himself to push through it. There was no time to dwell on it—not when you were up there, fighting for your life.

“Where are you going, you fool?!” Criston’s voice rang out behind him, filled with fury. “You’ll die, Hightower! Come back!”

But Gwayne was deaf to Criston’s commands. He spurred the horse forward, urging it toward the burning wreckage of dragons, toward you. The horse resisted at first, terrified by the scent of blood and fire, but Gwayne was relentless, guiding it with strong hands and determined resolve. The animal finally obeyed, its hooves pounding against the earth as it charged through the smoke and debris.

Criston cursed behind him, and Gwayne heard the clatter of armor as the Lord Commander sprinted after him, but Gwayne didn’t care. All that mattered was reaching you.

Above, the struggle between Silverwing and Vhagar intensified. Aemond’s curses mingled with the roars of his dragon as he tried to force Vhagar to tear herself free, but Silverwing was like a vice, her jaws locked onto Vhagar’s throat. The she-dragon’s great wings buffeted the air, but even Vhagar, with all her size and strength, was struggling against the tenacity of her smaller opponent. Silverwing’s wings were shredded, her silvery scales bloodied, but she refused to let go. She was holding on not just for herself, but for you.

“Y/N!” Gwayne’s shout cut through the chaos as he neared the spot where you lay half-alive below Silverwing’s wing. He could see that you were barely conscious, your grip weak on your sword as you fought to stay awake. Desperation fueled his every move as he urged the horse closer, reaching out to you. “Hold on! I’m coming!”

Through the haze of pain, you blinked up at him, your eyes unfocused. “Gwayne?” Your voice was faint, tinged with disbelief. “You… you shouldn’t be here…”

“I’m not leaving you!” Gwayne snapped, his voice rough with emotion. With a final burst of strength, he dismounted down beside you, reaching for your arm. The moment his hand grasped yours, you seemed to come back to life, your eyes clearing just enough to recognize him fully.

“Gwayne… you need to run,” you gasped, wincing as another jolt of pain coursed through you. “She’s going to kill us all…”

“Not today,” he vowed, pulling up with him and onto his horse. You were light in his arms, weakened from battle and injury, but there was still a flicker of the fierce spirit he had always admired in you. “I’ll get you out of here, I swear it.”

Criston’s voice was closer now, filled with anger. “Hightower, you’ll be executed for this!” he roared, but Gwayne didn’t even spare him a glance. He dug his heels into the horse’s flanks, and the animal surged forward, carrying you both away from the hellish scene behind you.

As the horse galloped across the field, Gwayne glanced back over his shoulder just in time to see the moment when Silverwing’s strength finally gave out. Vhagar’s claws found purchase, tearing deep into Silverwing’s side, and with a heart-wrenching cry, the silver dragon was forced to release her grip. Vhagar reared up, triumphant and bloodied, but the cost of the battle was clear—her eye was ruined, her scales cracked and bleeding. Silverwing collapsed onto the battlefield, her wings crumpling beneath her, but even then, she snarled defiantly, refusing to bow.

But there was no more fight left in her. Gwayne’s heart broke as he watched the light fade from Silverwing’s eyes, her body slumping in exhaustion. Aemond’s laughter echoed through the sky, dark and cruel, as he urged Vhagar to take the final blow. But before Vhagar could finish her fallen opponent, Gwayne’s eyes caught the movement of Criston as he halted his pursuit.

“Cole!” Aegon’s voice was a ragged gasp, filled with pain and panic. The king lay on the battlefield, unmoving, his once-golden armor scorched and twisted from the flames. His face was barely recognizable, the flesh blistered and raw, his body wracked with agony. Criston’s eyes widened in horror as he realized what had happened—their king was grievously injured, possibly dying. All thoughts of pursuing Gwayne and you evaporated as Criston sprinted toward Aegon, screaming orders for a healer.

Gwayne tightened his hold on you as the horse raced away from the carnage, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination. You clung to him weakly, your breath shallow, your strength fading fast. “Stay with me, Y/N,” he urged, his voice trembling with barely contained desperation. “Just hold on a little longer. We’ll find safety. I won’t let you die.”

Your eyes fluttered, and for a brief moment, you leaned your head against his chest, your voice a faint whisper. “You saved me… again…”

Gwayne’s throat tightened, his emotions threatening to spill over. “And I’ll keep saving you, no matter what it costs,” he promised, pressing a fierce kiss to your temple as the wind whipped through your hair. “I’m not losing you. Not today, not ever.”

Behind them, the battle raged on, but for Gwayne, the only thing that mattered was the woman in his arms and the fragile hope that somehow, despite everything, they would both live to see another day.

[justevelynnnn]

I’ll always love you.

Pairing: Logan howlett x reader

Summary: Logan has a nightmare and hurts you in his sleep. This is a short story of that and the aftermath.

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of blood, Logan stabbed you in your sleep, Profanity, Cigar smoking, mention of the scene where wolverine gets his adamantium skeleton. (Written with fem!reader in mind but no she/her pronouns are used or feminine features are mentioned)

A/N: this started off as a drabble but tbh it got a bit longer than i expected so 😭 but anyway, i love this plot so of coursee, my turn!

He was in the tank again.

It was the same nightmare every other week. Or, one of them. But this was the worst one of them all.

Suffocating. Confused. Scared?

He felt it all again.

He could never, ever describe what metal covering your skeleton feels like but it’s a horrible, disgusting feeling.

As he rose and roared angrily from the water, tubes fell out his body. He gets hit with a bullet to the head and he fiercely turns to the source, growling animalistically. There are more gun shots as he jumped out, screaming. Oh, and of course…Fucking Stryker.

Stryker. Stryker. Stryker.

Of course, the nightmare version of this event is more intense feeling. His heart was racing. His mind. His feet. Adrenaline is pumping through his veins. Everything is on fire.

Then suddenly, he’s in a dark room.

Still yelling and thrashing, he doesn’t stop until he comes to finally seconds later. Oh, it was a nightmare. Not real. Though, the screams still echo in his head.

And then he hears a soft, “Logan….”

He looks down.

You’re laying there, under him. There are tears in your eyes as you held his…wrists with..his claws…in…your….sides..

His heart drops. Blood runs cold. He feels like he’s gonna be sick.

Shit. Shit shit shit shit fuck fuck fuck-

He mouths, “No…no no no…”

“Logan, it’s okay. It’s okay, you’re…” A pained groan from you interrupted yourself. “…okay. I’m here.”

He frantically pulls his claws out and sits there, looking at you in pure horror. Heart pounding still as guilt washed over him. Consuming his entire soul.

Luckily, for the both of you, you also had a healing factor..just not as good as his…it took twice as long for you to heal.

But you were prepared for this moment anyways. You knew one day…he’d wake up like this. That you’d wake up like this. You practiced what you would say and do. Remain calm and ground him. Remind him he’s okay and that you two are far from any enemies.

Logan looked at the blood covering his hands once he unsheathed his claws. Looked at you once more and then back at his own hands.

“I’m already healing, Logan. It’s gonna be okay. It was an accident.” You sit up in bed, even though it was horribly painful still, and rub his shoulders trying to relax him.

“..i…i..hurt you.” He softly said looking into your eyes.

“It was an accident.”

“I hurt you. I fucking hurt you.”

“You didn’t mean to, Lo.”

He bit his lip, holding back a sob. Still, a tear escaped his eye.

You hugged him solfty, not minding the sweat covering his skin and clothes, and rubbed his back.

“I’m sorry…i’m sorry baby i-“

You hear him finally break down a bit as his voice hitched. You rub his back more telling him it’s okay. You’re okay.

“I know, you’d never do it on purpose Logan…i forgive you. Look, I’m already halfway healed…it won’t even scar..” You pull back and gently held his face and kiss his forehead.

He sighed.

“Wanna stay up with me? Wash the sheets and sit outside a bit?” You smiled.

He nods. “I’m so sorry.”

You don’t respond as you get out of bed, pain on your sides quickly fading. You pull him with you and you both start pulling off the blood soaked sheets quietly.

Once everything is in the washer you sit with him on the couch in the dark, cuddled next to him as he smoked a cigar to calm his nerves.

“That was my worst nightmare.” He said softly as he took a long drag.

“I know..but i know you didnt mean too. You’ve been through a lot it was bound to happen at some point… and plus, i’m better now..”

“I…I dunno why you put up with me.”

“Because I love you. ‘Cause i know deep down you have a good soul.”

He huffed at this and smiled as he said, “Love, huh?”

“Yes, love. All of it. Your scars, your personality, just…you.”

Silence filled the room once more. He put the cigar out and laid it on the table then looked away.

“I’m just..scared. Of losing you. Are you sure? About us? This? I don’t want to hurt you anymore…i-“

“Logan, look at me.”

He turned to face you. Face unreadable as usual but you knew he felt worry.

“I’ll never leave you. And i’m so sure about us. 100%. You don’t have to be scared of anything considering that anymore. Okay? I’ll always love you.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment but then he closed the distance. Hugging you tightly. A soft thank you came from him moments later.

That night you two fell asleep on the couch in each others arms.

[blingblong55]

Brutal Desire-Simon "Ghost" Riley NSFW

Kintober Day 8

Based on a request: for kinktober can you please make ghost eat us out? like no other action just us, him and his mouth? maybe we're in a relationship with him? Perhaps we came home drunk and got horny? I get turned on when drunk or high so yeah. I'm making this personal but I need this ---- F!Reader, MDNI, 18+, established!relationship, oral!sex, finergering ----

Going home after a night out. Fun. Asking your boyfriend to fuck you senseless… also fun.

Ghost's breath hitched in his throat at your words. Anything, you said. His mind immediately went to the gutter, conjuring up images of you on your knees, your pretty mouth wrapped around his cock, begging him to fuck your throat.

He shook his head, trying to clear the filthy thoughts. "You don’t know what you’re asking for, love," he warned, his voice low and rough with desire. "I’m not a good man. I’ve done things… seen things… that would make your blood run cold."

Ghost took a step forward, closing the distance between you. He could smell your perfume, mixed with the scent of alcohol and marijuana. It was intoxicating, and he felt his resolve weakening by the second.

"You’re playing with fire," he murmured, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. His fingers lingered on your cheek, tracing the delicate bone structure. "I don’t know if you can handle the heat."

His other hand found its way to your hip, gripping it firmly. He pulled you flush against his body, letting you feel the hard length of his cock pressing against your stomach. "Is this what you want?" he growled, grinding his hips against you. "To be fucked by a brutal, broken man? To be used and abused until you're screaming my name?"

His hand slid from your cheek to your throat, applying just enough pressure to make breathing difficult. "I’ll ruin you," he promised, his voice a dark whisper. "I’ll fuck you so hard, so deep, that you’ll forget your name. I’ll make you mine, body and soul. And I won’t let you go until I’m satisfied."

Ghost’s eyes were dark and wild behind the mask, his pupils blown wide with lust. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his blood roaring in his ears. He wanted you more than he had ever wanted anything in his life. But he knew that once he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop.

You took his hand and nodded, “I want to,” you softly said.

Ghost’s heart raced as you took his hand, your soft voice confirming your consent. He felt a surge of primal desire course through his veins, and his grip on your hip tightened.

"Alright then, love," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Let’s get started."

In one swift motion, Ghost lifted you off your feet and carried you towards the stairs. He didn’t bother with the lights, preferring the darkness to hide the intensity of his desire. As he ascended the stairs, he could feel your heart pounding against his chest, your breath coming in short gasps.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Ghost kicked open the door to his bedroom and tossed you onto the bed. He followed you down, hovering over your body, his hand still gripping your throat.

"Strip," he commanded, his voice a harsh whisper. "Now."

Ghost watched as you fumbled with your clothes, your hands shaking with anticipation. As each article of clothing fell to the floor, he felt his cock throb in his trousers, urgent and needy.

Once you were fully naked, Ghost leaned back to admire the view. Your body, with its soft curves and supple skin, was a sight to behold. He licked his lips, imagining himself exploring every inch of you with his fingers, his mouth, and his tongue.

"You’re fucking beautiful," he rasped, his hand trailing down your body, skimming over your nipples and stomach before finally reaching the apex of your thighs. "And you’re all mine."

Without warning, Ghost plunged two fingers into your wet heat, feeling your walls clench around his digits. He pumped his fingers in and out, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in tight circles.

You moaned, arching your back and pushing your hips against his hand. Ghost chuckled darkly, enjoying the sight of you writhing beneath him. "That’s it, love. Let me hear you," he purred.

Ghost’s eyes darkened with lust as he watched you moan, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. Your expression of desire and submission sent a jolt of electricity straight to his cock, making it twitch and throb in his trousers.

"Fuck, you’re so responsive," he growled, his fingers continuing their relentless assault on your pussy. The wet, obscene sounds of his fingers pumping in and out filled the room, mixing with your breathy moans.

Unable to resist any longer, Ghost leaned down and captured your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue delved into your mouth, exploring and claiming every inch of it. He could taste the alcohol and marijuana on your tongue, mixed with the unique flavour that was distinctly you.

As he deepened the kiss, Ghost’s free hand roamed over your body, mapping out every curve and dip. His calloused fingers traced the lines of your ribs, the swell of your breasts, the valley between your thighs. He revelled in the feel of your soft, warm skin under his touch and the way your body arched into him, seeking more of his attention.

Ghost broke the kiss, leaving you both panting and flushed. He sat back on his haunches, his fingers still buried deep inside you. "You want more, don’t you?" he asked, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "You want to feel my cock stretching you open, filling you up until you can’t take any more?"

He withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and sucking your essence from his digits. "You taste fucking amazing, love," he purred, his eyes locked on yours. "I can’t wait to eat this sweet pussy of yours."

With that, Ghost dove between your legs, his tongue replacing his fingers. He lapped at your folds, savouring the taste of your arousal, before focusing his attention on your clit. He circled the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue, flicking and teasing. “Oh f-fuck,” you say before covering your mouth.

Ghost chuckled, his lips brushing against your inner thigh as he continued his ministrations. "Don’t be shy now, love," he murmured, his tongue swirling around your clit with increasing intensity. "Let me hear you scream."

He could feel your body writhing beneath him, your hips bucking and grinding against his face. The sight of you so lost in your pleasure only fuelled Ghost’s desire, his cock straining against his trousers.

With one hand, Ghost reached up and pinched a nipple, twisting it gently as he continued to torment your clit with his tongue. He could sense your orgasm building, the way your body tensed, the way your hips jerked against his face.

"Cum for me," he growled, his words vibrating against your clit. "Let me taste your sweet release."

And with those words, your body arched off the bed, your back bowing as you came undone beneath Ghost’s skilled touch. He lapped up every drop of your release, savouring the taste as he continued to pleasure you through your orgasm.

When you finally slumped back onto the bed, Ghost wiped his mouth and grinned up at you. "Well, that was a sight to behold," he breathed, his breathing heavy and ragged from his exertions.

Tags:

@liyanahelena @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @frizzseaberries @frazie99 @idklols @katybaby00 @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @Llelannie @Macnches2 @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @1234beeandpuppycat @sparky--bunny @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @pinkblossomsworld @lovelyvqer @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @born4biriyani @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @iruzias @sleepyycatt @noodlezz-bedo @trinthealternate @azkza @VampyTheGoth

[thatlotuscookie]

Hey hypno! Could you write a My Hero Academia request for Bakugo x Reader? Maybe something where the reader gets hurt during a mission, and Bakugo freaks out because he’s secretly been really protective of them but never admitted his feelings? Thanks in advance! I love your writing already and can’t wait to read what you come up with!

✧･ﾟ: a/n: first ask, yay! I really love this idea! Bakugo trying to hold back his protective feelings is so him. Since you didn’t specify a gender, I’ll make it a gn! reader so everyone can enjoy it. Thanks for the request—can’t wait for you to read it! <3

✧ Title: ✧ Fragile ✧ ✧ Characters: Bakugo Katsuki, Reader (Gender Neutral) ✧ Genre: Angst, Romance ✧ Rating: T (for Teen) ✧ Summary: A mission goes wrong, and you’re severely injured. Bakugo’s reaction exposes feelings he’s kept hidden. ✧ Content Warnings: Injury, blood, mild language, emotional distress ✧ Word Count: 1008 // 5.6k chars

A sharp, searing pain ripped through your side as you stumbled back, clutching your wound. You forced your trembling hand to reach for your comm device. "I... I think I’m hit," you gasped, your voice barely making it through the static.

"Fall back! We’ve got this, don’t push yourself!" Izuku’s concerned voice rang through your earpiece, but it felt distant—everything felt distant. The world around you seemed to dim, your vision blurring as the pain intensified. Your legs gave out beneath you, the ground hard and cold as you collapsed.

Through the haze, you barely registered the sound of hurried footsteps before a familiar figure appeared beside you, kneeling in the dirt. Blonde hair and the unmistakable flash of red eyes came into focus.

"Bakugo?" you whispered, blinking up at him as he loomed over you, his face ashen.

"Shut up," he growled, though his voice wavered. "Don’t talk. Don’t move, idiot. I’m calling for medics." His hands hovered just above your injury, trembling as though he didn’t dare touch you, afraid it would make things worse.

"Bakugo..." you murmured again, feeling the exhaustion wash over you. He looked almost... scared. It was a side of him you had never seen before.

“Why... why the hell did you jump in front of that attack?!” His voice cracked, his usual bite now laced with something deeper. "You could’ve gotten killed, you idiot!" His breath came out ragged, like the thought of losing you was too much for him to bear.

Despite the pain, you managed a weak smile. "Because... that’s what heroes do," you whispered, your words barely audible.

But that only seemed to make him angrier. His eyes flared with something raw—something vulnerable. "I don’t give a damn about that right now!" he snapped, but his voice broke at the end, the bravado slipping just enough for you to notice. "You think I care about that dumb hero crap when it’s you lying here like this?"

His words hung in the air, heavier than any explosion he’d ever created. The weight of them hit you harder than the attack that had taken you down. You stared up at him, heart pounding, butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach despite the pain. "Bakugo... what are you—?"

"I couldn’t—" he stopped himself, shaking his head as if he was fighting some internal battle. His hand finally pressed down on your wound, but it was more than just an effort to stop the bleeding. It was desperate, like if he held on tight enough, he could keep you tethered to him. "I’m not gonna lose you. I won’t."

The words were barely a whisper, but they hit you harder than any of his explosions ever had. Your heart clenched as you looked up at him, his face so close, yet the vulnerability in his eyes made him feel miles away.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, not from the pain but from the overwhelming wave of emotion coursing through you. "Bakugo, I—"

"Don’t say anything," he cut you off, his voice rough, almost pleading. "I’m not good at this. You know I’m not good with feelings, with... with any of this crap. But don’t you dare die on me, got it?" His voice cracked again, and he turned his head, refusing to meet your gaze. "I need you."

Your breath hitched, his words settling in your chest like a spark ready to ignite. You had known Bakugo for a long time, had seen him fight, had seen him angry and fierce, but this? This was something else entirely. This was fear. Fear of losing you.

"Promise me," he said, his voice quieter now, barely above a whisper. "Promise me you’ll stay with me."

You swallowed hard, tears slipping down your cheeks. Your heart was pounding so hard it hurt, but it wasn’t from the injury—it was from him. From the way his hand shook as he pressed it against your side, from the way his eyes, usually so sharp and fiery, were now filled with a raw kind of desperation you had never seen before. "I promise," you whispered, your voice soft but firm.

His shoulders sagged slightly, as though a weight had been lifted, but the tension in his body didn’t ease. He turned his head, yelling for the medics, his voice harsh and commanding. Yet, even as he called for help, his hand never left you, a constant, warm pressure against your side, grounding you, keeping you here with him.

And in that moment, as the chaos of the battle raged on around you, all you could focus on was him. Bakugo Katsuki, the boy who had always been so strong, so determined to push everyone away, now clinging to you like you were his only lifeline.

"I train like hell every day," he muttered, his voice low, almost as if he was speaking to himself. "Not because I wanna be number one... but because I don’t want to lose anyone else."

Your chest tightened as his words sunk in, the full weight of his confession settling over you. He wasn’t just scared of losing you today—he had been scared of losing you all along.

"I don’t know what I’d do without you, idiot," he said, his voice barely a whisper now, filled with a vulnerability that broke your heart and made it soar at the same time.

As the medics finally arrived and began tending to your wound, Bakugo didn’t move. He stayed by your side, his hand still resting over yours, his fiery red eyes never leaving your face.

For the first time, you saw the real Bakugo. Not the explosive, loud-mouthed hero-in-training, but the boy underneath it all—the one who was scared to lose the people he cared about. And your heart ached, not from the injury but from the realization that maybe, just maybe, he had been trying to protect you in his own way all along.

Maybe Bakugo Katsuki wasn’t just made of explosions and fire.

Maybe, deep down, he was fragile, too.

[darlingsblackbook]

Beneath the Ashes

Diluc Ragnvindr x Reader

Summary : All you want is to help and fight alongside your lover but all it causes is arguments. Words are said, feelings are hurt and you storm away but will you come back?

Warnings : angst, arguments, blood, sad moments >:)

A/N: This is my first piece for Diluc, my beloved♡

There will be a part two soon!

The slam of the door rings in my ears, but it’s not enough to drown out the argument still raging in my head. The cold air hits me as I step outside, sharp and biting, but I barely feel it. My heart is still pounding from the shouting, from the words that cut deeper than I’d ever imagined they could.

“I’m not some child, Diluc!” My voice had cracked, raw with frustration. “I don’t need you to protect me like I’m some helpless idiot!”

“You don’t understand,” he’d shot back, his voice edged with a rare, ice-cold anger. “You’re too reckless. This isn’t just some petty mission. This is real danger. I won’t risk you getting hurt because you want to prove a point!”

There it was, that condescending tone. That same look he always gave me when we fought—like I was a fragile thing to be coddled, to be kept safe. It made my blood boil, made my fists clench at my sides.

“And what about you?” I had spat, the words spilling out before I could stop them. “You throw yourself into danger every damn day. You think that’s fair to me? To anyone who cares about you?”

Diluc’s eyes had darkened then, his jaw tightening. For a moment, I thought he was going to back down, to let me in. But instead, his voice turned cold, a chilling contrast to the fire always burning beneath his stoic exterior.

“That’s different.”

I had laughed, bitter and hollow. “Of course it is. Because it’s always different when it’s you. You get to play the hero, sacrifice everything for the sake of Mondstadt, but gods forbid I want to stand by your side.”

“I’m trying to keep you safe!” His voice had risen, a rare crack in his composure. “Do you think I want to do this? That I want to push you away? But if something happened to you, if—” He had cut himself off, his fists clenching. “I couldn’t bear it.”

“So that’s it? You just expect me to sit here in this mansion, waiting for you to come home, hoping you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere? You want me to be okay with that? With being left behind every time?”

His silence was deafening.

“I’m not a fragile flower, Diluc. I’m not one of your servants or your… your responsibilities.” My voice had trembled with the effort of holding back the storm of emotions threatening to break free. “I love you. I want to fight with you, not against you. But you… you won’t even let me in.”

He had looked at me then, his eyes hard, distant. The walls he always built around himself had gone up higher, stronger. And when he spoke, his words were like daggers, each one sharper than the last.

“This isn’t about love. This is about survival. If you can’t understand that, then maybe you don’t belong here.”

I’d felt something inside me shatter at those words. The pain had been so sharp, so sudden, that I couldn’t even speak for a moment. I had stared at him, at the man I loved, the man who was supposed to trust me, to stand beside me. And all I saw was a stranger.

“Is that really what you think of me?” My voice had come out small, barely more than a whisper. “That I don’t belong here? That I’m just… in your way?”

His silence had been the final blow.

Without another word, I had turned and walked out, slamming the door behind me. I didn’t look back. I didn’t want to see if he would stop me, if he would finally say something, anything to make me stay.

But he didn’t.

°•♡•°

The wind howls through the trees as I stumble along the path, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. My side aches from the cold, the pain still fresh from the fight. I should have grabbed my coat, but I’d been too angry to care. Now, every step feels like a reminder of how badly things went, of how shattered everything is.

His words keep replaying in my head. Maybe you don’t belong here. I never thought he could say something like that to me, that he could push me away so easily, as if all the time we’d spent together didn’t matter. As if I didn’t matter.

I bite back the lump forming in my throat. I’m not going to cry. Not now. Not after everything. If he wants to push me away, fine. Let him.

But the truth is, I’m not angry anymore. I’m hurt. The kind of hurt that sinks deep into your bones, that makes you question everything you thought you knew. And I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t know how to make this better, or if it can even be fixed.

I don’t realize how far I’ve gone until the sound of twigs snapping behind me jolts me from my thoughts. I look around, but the darkness has swallowed everything, leaving only the faint outline of trees swaying in the wind.

I freeze. Something feels wrong. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as I slowly turn around, heart thudding in my chest. At first, I see nothing but the dark outline of trees swaying in the wind.

Then, a shadow moves.

It happens too fast. A blur of movement, a sharp pain as something—or someone—grabs me, pulling me off the path. My scream is cut off by a hand clamping over my mouth.

Suddenly, a sharp pain explodes through my head, and the world tilts. I barely register the blow before I’m knocked to the ground, my knees hitting the dirt hard. The breath is forced out of me, and I taste blood in my mouth.

Panic floods my senses, but before I can react, a hand grabs my hair, yanking me back. I cry out, my voice barely more than a choked sob, but no one hears. There’s no one around.

I can barely process what’s happening, the world spinning as I struggle to push the assailant off. There’s more than one. Three—no, four figures, cloaked in darkness, their eyes glinting maliciously in the faint moonlight. Fatui? Bandits? It doesn’t matter. They’re here, and I’m alone.

My mind races, the fear choking me. Where’s Diluc? Would he even come if he knew? Or would he let me bleed out here, alone, because I wasn’t supposed to be out here in the first place? Maybe you don’t belong here. His words echo in my mind, cruel and sharp.

I was so hurt, so angry, so distracted by the fight I had with Diluc that I had not been paying any attention to my surroundings. I had not been paying attention to the possibility of enemies following me.

How could I have been so stupid? How could I have made such a mistake after my whole speech about being able to take care of myself and wanting to stand by Diluc's side?

I kick, I claw, but it’s not enough. I can’t stop shaking, the cold and fear gripping me in equal measure. One of them pulls out a blade, and I feel it cut into my side, a sharp, searing pain that makes my vision blur. I gasp, the knife sinking into my skin. Everything goes white with pain, and I feel the warmth of my own blood pooling under me.

My breath comes in ragged gasps, and I can taste the metallic tang of blood in my mouth. They say something to each other, but the words are distant, muffled by the rush of blood in my ears.

My vision blurs, and the world tilts again, the cold ground rising up to meet me as I fall. I hear the faint sound of footsteps, of voices, but it all fades, growing distant

I think I call his name.

Diluc.

But no one’s coming.

•• </3 ••

When I open my eyes, it’s to the sound of someone shouting my name.

“Y/N!”

It’s him. Diluc.

I try to move, try to sit up, but the pain in my side flares up, and I can barely breathe. His arms are around me in an instant, lifting me from the cold dirt. His face is pale, his eyes wide with something like terror.

“Don’t… don’t move,” he says, his voice shaking. “You’re hurt. You’re hurt…”

I try to speak, but the words don’t come. My throat feels tight, raw, and I can barely focus on anything but the warmth of his arms around me, the way he holds me like I might slip away at any moment.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it. Please, stay with me. I can’t—” His voice cracks, and I feel something wet hit my cheek. His tears.

I want to tell him it’s okay, that I understand now, but all I can do is reach up, my fingers brushing weakly against his cheek. He catches my hand, holding it tightly as if it’s the only thing keeping me here.

“I’m so sorry.." I sob as tears run down my cheeks as rivers. I yelp as sharp pain pierces my side, the slight movement of my crying causing immense pain. "Y-you were right-t...I kept telling you I c-could take care of myself and f-fight- still I-" My voice is barely a whisper.

His grip tightens, his eyes full of pain, of fear. “Sshhh, don't say that, dont worry about that now. I can’t lose you. I should’ve never… I shouldn’t have said those things. I was scared. I was—” He stops, choking on the words. “Please, y/n, just hold on.”

But I’m so tired. The pain is fading now, replaced by a numbness that spreads through me, pulling me under.

I hear him calling my name, but it’s distant now, fading with the rest of the world. And then, there’s nothing but silence.

♡

Meow meow meow meow...meow meow meow meow meow...

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just Like Animals 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, free use, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you're taken by a man with an insatiable appetite.

Characters: Curtis Everett.

Author’s Note: This is in the same universe as Partners in Crime.

Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

“You don’t have to be afraid,” the grizzly voice rises in the darkness. “I don’t want you to be... scared.” 

You flinch and tug on your arms, wrists bound behind you, your ankles similarly bound together. You sit in the corner of the black space, knees drawn to your chest, arms crushed into the wall. You whimper as footsteps echo in the void. You blink, trying to see through the layers of shadows. 

You can’t speak. There’s something in your mouth. Dry and coarse. Fabric of some sort. 

“I’m not a monster...” the statement sends a shiver up your spine. 

You turn your head back and forth, dizzy as each scuff of your sneaker, each rustle of fabric, every syllable rolls off the walls you can’t see. You can’t remember how you go here. You don’t remember anything. You just went to bed and woke up in this place. 

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.” He’s closer, his voice clearer. He’s not long pacing. “You can protect them. From me.” 

A sudden bloom of light blinds you. You squint against the harsh glare of a lantern as it floats closer. It hovers over you and descends slowly. The man behind it holds it just below his face so you can barely make him out. 

“I just need... something to keep me under control.” He clunks the base of the lantern down. “I won’t hurt you either, not if you’re good.” 

You wince and shudder as he reaches for you. He curls his fingers and brushes his knuckles against your cheek. You shy away and he opens his hand, grabbing your head and pulling you forward. His icy blue eyes turn your blood cold. 

“You just have to do what I say. What I want. If you don’t...” he looks away and shakes his head slightly. “You have a sister. Two. They’re pretty, like you. I could find them. They’d just be two more. There would be others along the way.” He brings his other hand up and grips your head between his large hands. “I can’t stop it. I tried.” 

He searches your terrified face and closes his eyes. You feel him quake. “You can stop it. You can stop me. Without you, I won’t be able to control it.” 

You’re heart pounds in your ears. You don’t know who he is or why you’re here. More terrifyingly, how does he know about your sisters? How did he find you? The questions blow through you like a chill. 

“Will you help me?” He squeezes your skull until it aches. He’s strong. So strong. You can only see his face but you can tell he’s bigger than you. 

You bat your lashes as tears bobble on the brims of your eyes. Whatever he wants, you know it’s not good. You know he’s going to hurt you whether you say yes or no. He just might have a bit of mercy if you agree. 

You try to nod. You can only wiggle a little in his grasp. He lightens his hold on your and swirls his broad thumbs against your temples. He leans closer. His dark stumble sharpens his jawline and his brows arch. 

“Yes?” He wonders. 

You nod, this time harder. You can’t stop. You rock towards him and garble around the gag. 

He hushes you and stills your head. He lets you go and hooks his thumb under the strip tied around your mouth. He pulls it down then digs out the wad from between your teeth. You cough and lean into the corner. 

“I...Thank you.” 

He crumples the fabric in his hand and snatches up the lantern. He stands and shuts it off. His treads scrape on the floor as he walks into the darkness and your left in the blotchy black nothingness, the ring of light still burnt in your retina. 

A door opens, letting in a gust, then closes with a deafening clang. You whimper and sink back. Your wrists and ankles ache from constriction and your jaw feels loose without the cloth to bite down on. Your tears overflow at last and you devolve into helpless sobs. 

What is this? 

You huddle as you try to stave off the cold creeping from the cement beneath you and the dingy walls. You think you’re underground but you could be wrong. It hardly matters where you are. 

Hinges squeal and you flinch again, hitting your head off the hard wall. The footsteps approach again and you cower. Something clunks down in front of you and you hold your breath. The man walks through the darkness and the lantern glows once more, further away. He hangs it from a hook and approaches you again. 

You sniff back your tears as your cheeks are left raw and cold with the wet sheen. 

You look down at the metal tray. With the light out of your face, you can see better. Not clearer, but more of him. He’s tall and burly. He gets down on his knees and sits back on his heels. He takes the thick metal spoon from the tray and stirs around the creamed corn. 

“Eat,” he orders. 

He raises the spoon and you open your mouth. The corn is sweat and gooey. You swallow it down even as the texture repulses you. He feeds you a spoonful at a time, no time for you to resist or taste. Next, he scoops up the mashed potato. 

“Wait,” you say and cough again, your throat dry. “Wait, who are you?” 

“Finish.” He drags out the last letters. 

You nod and look down at the spoon. You lean forward and open your mouth. You eat as diligently as he feeds you, eager for an answer. The turkey is coated in gravy but its bland. You swallow down the last bite and he offers the cup of water. You drink it down greedily until you choke. 

He pulls away as you catch your breath. You slump against the wall again and flutter your lashes at him. 

“Please, tell me who you are,” you murmur. 

He takes the cutlery in his hand as he lifts the tray, holding the cup steady with his fingers. He sighs, “my name’s Curtis. I already know yours.” He stands as you gape at him. “But you shouldn’t care who I am, you should’ve asked what I am.” 

[suhnandmoon]

starlight

chapter four: written part below

pairing: huang renjun x fem!reader

warnings: near-death attack against reader (vampire attack). writing something serious for once in my life. if you feel uncomfortable reading, there will be a tldr at the end!!

“yn don’t trust him.” you read jisung’s text for the second time just in case your eyes were deceiving you.

you and sunwoo were still walking in the alley behind the theatre, but you stopped in your tracks to focus on jisung’s message.

in hindsight, you should have been more vigilant, but your intuition had led you astray when you made the decision to trust the boy infront of you.

sensing your halted movement, sunwoo turned around to figure out why you had stopped. you quickly scrambled for an escape route, but it was too late. all you could do was quickly send jisung your location with trembling fingers.

his demeanor shifted, cold as the air around you. a shiver ran down your spine as you felt his gaze trained on your frozen figure.

you almost didn’t want to look up from your phone and into his eyes.

paralyzed with fear, you slowly lifted your head to see a pair of glowing red eyes boring straight into yours. it was hard for you to even register the supernatural nature of his eyes due to how scared you were

the smile on his face morphed into something more malicious than he had shown you before.

“took you long enough to realize something was off- though at the rate this was going, i didn’t think you’d ever notice.” sunwoo laughed, closing in on you.

you backed up slowly before turning to run in the direction you came from. you only made it a few steps before he had caught up in front of you in an instance of abnormal speed. your heart was pounding through your ears as he grabbed your shoulders.

you were completely powerless as you felt a pair of sharp fangs sink into your collarbone.

your thoughts were clouded in confusion as your consciousness drained. was he sucking your blood?

you heard a few loud voices approach in the distance as your eyes fluttered shut.

the numerous bodies running towards him had caused sunwoo to retract and pull away from you. he knew he had already taken the blood he needed so he made no further advances. the only thing he hadn’t realized was just how much he took from you.

“hello, boys. nice seeing you again.” he sneered, distaste heavily laced in his tone. “your girlfriend and i have recently been acquainted, park.”

sunwoo directed a laugh towards jisung, causing everyone to shift their focus to you lying on the floor.

“yn!” jisung stepped out and yelled, briefly being held back by one of his friends but he shook off their grasp to run out to you. he carefully took you into his arms to make sure you were okay, yet you showed no sign of response.

he bit back the disgust bubbling up in his chest. this all started because sunwoo thought you were his girlfriend? he held onto you a little tighter upon that realization in guilt. he glared up at sunwoo, who looked so indifferent, it was infuriating.

“what are you gonna do about it? our agreement explicitly states you can't kill me” he gloated as if he had some type of leverage above the situation. “unless you want to retract our deal?”

jeno glanced over at mark briefly who firmly nodded in response. silently, jeno stepped up. there was a small pause of silence before jeno’s right fist swung upwards, landing a solid hit on sunwoo’s jaw.

“oh, don't worry. i won’t be killing you.” jeno shoved the vampire backwards but sunwoo retaliated with a swing of his own. donghyuck ran in to support jeno while mark stepped away from the scene.

jisung, busy trying to wake you up, was completely removed from the fight playing out before him. renjun dropped to his knees to check in on you as well. with a squeeze to jisung’s shoulder, renjun signaled his friend to hand you over to him, laying your head on his lap.

“her pulse is slowing down.” renjun attempted to sound neutral in that moment so as not to panic the boy in front of him. jisung felt nauseous as renjun looked at him with a knowing gaze.

“we have to do it.” he confirmed jisung’s assumption as to what needed to happen. jisung reached for your hand growing colder by the second as he gave it a squeeze.

“can you be the one to turn her?” jisung asked weakly, fear seeping through the weight of each word he spoke. renjun nodded as jisung carefully lifted your hand he was holding to renjun so he could take your wrist into his grasp.

gently sinking his fangs into your wrist, renjun turned you into a vampire.

tldr/summary of the written chapter: sunwoo tricked yn into following him. turns out he's a vampire and boom! he's sucking ur blood. he gets a little carried away and takes too much. by the time the boys arrive, you're out cold. jeno fights sunwoo while jisung and renjun have you. ur dying!!!! so they make the decision that renjun needs to turn you into a vampire!

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[kybercrystals94]

Nightmares and Demons

Read here on Ao3!

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 Prompts -> Bonus Alternate Prompt: Light in the Darkness -> Week 12: Nightmares & Radio Silence -> Week 13: "Stop Touching Me!" // "I'm not touching you!"

Rated: T | Words: 1443 Author's Note: This is a roundabout sequel to my Febuwhump 2024 story Poisoned.

“Remember, remember, remember…” Crosshair murmurs through gritted, gnashing teeth. He presses the heels of his hands into his temples, fingernails digging into his scalp. “...remember, remember…” A sob. “...please, remember…” 

The girl came again. She knows his name. Speaks with a familiarity he craves. She tells him they are coming. Their brothers. Their brothers are coming. It is only a matter of time. He believes her. He has to believe her. If he doesn’t, he has nothing. Nothing but the poison that the Empire has leached into him. Needles and torture and endless, endless pain. 

Her promise, void and empty as it is, is like a light in the inky, consuming darkness. A fragile, flickering flame on the end of a match. It burns close to his finger tips, but he won’t let it go. 

“What have they done to you, Crosshair?” the girl asks when she comes. 

Crosshair tries to ignore her, tries to remember. Their brothers. Her promise. They’re coming. 

“...remember, remember, remember…” 

If he falls asleep, he doesn’t remember. He never remembers. 

He only feels the ghosts of memories, transparent and impossible to grasp in desperate fists. They brush past him, leaving lingering anguish in their wake. They never comfort, only torment and haunt him. 

When Crosshair wakes, it is silence that greets him. Not the girl. Not their brothers. 

Crosshair stands and looks out the grate of his cell. The other cell doors are swung open while his remains firmly latched. Why didn’t the guards take him too? Have they finally finished their experiments? Has he finally outlived his usefulness to the Empire? But that isn’t right. Something is wrong. 

Panic pricks his skin, stutters his heartbeat, quickens his panting breaths. 

He doesn’t understand. He should be grateful he is being left alone. 

He doesn’t want to be alone. He shouldn’t be alone. 

“...we don’t leave our own behind…”

“...we would’ve taken you back…”

“...it is his nature…” 

“...you're my brother too…”

The ghosts press in. Memories darkened with poison, glimpses of clarity in a clouded mind. He shouldn’t be alone. He doesn’t want to be alone. Please, don’t leave me alone! 

Crosshair stumbles back from the grated door. Nearly falls. “Guard?” he calls out. Don’t call out. Don’t draw attention. “Guard!” His voice pitches in his throat, a near scream.

A guard comes. He stands at the grate, looking in through a lifeless, broken visor. His blaster hangs loosely from one gloved hand. His armor is stained with blood and scorch marks. “You’re still here,” the guard says incredulously, voice thin and weak. 

Crosshair only stares back. 

The guard tips his head. “Funny. I didn’t think they’d leave one of their own behind.” 

“Behind?” Crosshair whispers. 

The guard opens the door. Steps toward him. “They came for the girl, they came for the others…but they didn’t come for you.” 

Crosshair thinks his lungs turn to stone. He can’t breathe, can’t draw in a breath, can’t speak a word. The guard takes another step. He lifts his blaster. “The Empire doesn’t need a singular, damaged clone. Its own kind don’t even want it. Why would we?” 

The girl wouldn’t leave him behind. Their brothers wouldn’t leave him behind. She promised they would come. For her. For them. They wouldn’t leave him behind. 

But they did. 

“Don’t,” Crosshair rasps out. He can’t move. His body paralyzed with something. Fear? Resignation? 

The muzzle of the blaster gouges into this chest. He feels its cold heat through the thin cloth of his shirt, over the pounding throb of his heart.  

Silence. 

And in the silence, the click of a trigger. 

***

Crosshair chokes on a frantic gasp of breath, the inhale burning down a raw throat. He tries to kick out of the blankets tangled around his limbs, but they hold fast, binding him to the horrifying remnants of the nightmare. Crying out, his frantic movements become panicked and uncoordinated until he falls with a heavy crash from his bed to the cold, unforgiving floor. 

The main light of his room clicks on.

The click of a trigger. 

The darkness is banished in an instant, but the terror lingers still. He thrashes, one hand trying to disentangle himself, the other an empty wrist useless to do anything. 

“Hey, hey,” a voice says, “Cross, it’s okay. It’s alright. It’s just a nightmare.” 

“Stop touching me!” Crosshair cries. He isn’t talking to the voice. He’s talking to the endless fabric that confines his movements, his freedom…

“I’m not touching you,” the voice says, sounding confused. “Hold still, let me help you. I’ll help you, Cross…just…” 

Hands, steady and sure, swiftly free Crosshair from the folds of blankets. He is too relieved to feel ashamed yet. Crosshair simply sits, skin burning with cold adrenaline, nightclothes damp with sweat. His breathing is short and quick. He needs to calm down before he passes out. He knows that, but his body doesn’t care. His body doesn’t listen to reason. His mind can barely comprehend it itself. 

An arm wraps around him. “Easy, easy. It was a nightmare. Breathe. Just focus on your breathing. Okay? Nothing else.” Loud, exaggerated breaths guide him to even out his own breathing. It feels like long, shivering hours before his mind clears enough to recognize Hunter at his side on the floor. 

Embarrassment readily takes hold as adrenaline seeps out, but Crosshair can’t bring himself to pull away. Not yet. He closes his eyes, focuses on his breathing. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hunter asks.

Crosshair bites back the reflexive refusal. He lets the question settle instead, unanswered and expectant. 

Hunter doesn’t ask again, doesn’t move away. 

Omega talks about her nightmares, sometimes. Crosshair hasn’t tried to listen, but when the house is silent, and the only sound is the trembling voice of their little sister, confessing the demons that plague her sleep, it is hard not to. However, it seems to help her. The lies of the darkness cowering away in the light of the truth when Hunter tells her she’s safe now, Hemlock isn’t coming back, the Empire is no longer searching…she’s safe, she’s loved, she’s home…

Their home. 

“...it was about Tantiss,” Crosshair murmurs, his voice unsteady. 

Hunter hums. 

“I couldn’t remember anyone,” Crosshair continues, “The drugs they’d used clouded them. Omega was there, but I couldn’t remember her name. She told me our brothers were coming. They were coming for us…but I couldn’t remember who our brothers were.” 

Hunter’s grip tightens just a little, pulling him closer. 

Crosshair shudders against him. He has to finish or he never will. “In the nightmare, I woke up and everyone was gone. The other cells were open, all open except for mine. A guard came to my cell. He looked like he’d been in a firefight.” His throat constricts, but he can’t stop now. Even if he wanted to. The words rush out of him. “He said…he said that I’d been left behind. My brothers had come, but not for me. He said that I was no longer useful, that a solitary clone that wasn’t even wanted by its own kind was worthless…and then he shot me through the heart.” 

Shame washes over him as he exposes the dark corners of his mind to his brother. Thoughts he’s buried deep that claw their way out of the filth with sharp claws when he’s most vulnerable. He feels raw and unfortified, shivering on the floor of his bedroom. But at the same time, he feels protected. When his own strength failed him, Hunter stepped in, offering his own in the dark of night when demons both born and inflicted rushed in to torment. 

Hunter does not speak for a long time, but the silence isn’t empty. It is companionable. Crosshair has missed companionable silence. It is hard to come by. 

“I know that you know the truth,” Hunter says at last. “But sometimes it helps to hear it.” 

Crosshair nods. He is familiar with these words. He’s heard Hunter speak them to Omega many dark nights. 

“The truth is,” Hunter continues softly, rough voice low, “You and Omega escaped Tantiss together. You saved each other, and found us again. The truth is, no matter what the Empire thinks of us, you are our brother, and we love you.” 

Crosshair swallows back the emotions that threaten to betray him. 

“The truth is, that we are safe,” Hunter goes on, “and we’re together now. The truth is, you’ll never be alone again. Not if we have anything to say about it.” 

Crosshair sinks into the one armed embrace of his brother. 

He’s safe. 

He’s loved. 

He’s home.

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[yourbiggestcrybaby]

Run Away (Part One)

Peter Pan (OUAT) x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mention of human sacrifice, manipulation, predator and prey situation, kidnapping

You wake up in a completely new land in a cabin. A boy who calls himself ‘Pan’ explains that you are the key to saving Neverland. What he doesn’t tell you is that this must be done through your sacrifice. When you find out about this you run away deep into the woods, but you don’t know your way, and Pan will stop at nothing to find you

You wake with a start, a sharp ache pounding through your head. When you open your eyes, you’re met with dim, golden light flickering against the walls of a small, rustic cabin. Wooden beams cross above you, and the air smells of moss and pine.

Before you can get your bearings, a voice cuts through the stillness. “Finally awake, are we?”

You turn sharply, heart racing, and there he stands, leaning casually against the doorway. Peter Pan. But not the storybook boy with the cocky grin and playful eyes. This Peter is tall, wiry, and predatory. His eyes are sharp, gleaming in the dim light with a look that feels as unsettling as it is curious.

“Who—where am I?” you manage to stammer, scooting back until your spine hits the wall.

Peter steps forward, his expression softening to a playful smirk as he watches you squirm. “Welcome to my land. You’re in the heart of Neverland now, right where you belong.” He glances around the cabin, as if making sure you’ve taken in every detail of your surroundings, every dead-end escape.

“Why did you bring me here?” you ask, your voice trembling.

He lets out a low chuckle and crouches down in front of you, his gaze piercing into yours. “Because, darling, you’re special.” The words roll off his tongue like a dark promise. “You’re the key to saving this island. You’re here because I need you. And you…” His eyes narrow, his tone dipping into something almost reverent. “You’re going to help me.”

“Save it? How?” Your confusion is thick, tangled with the budding fear in your chest.

His lips curve into a smile, a look so knowing it makes your blood run cold. “Do you believe in prophecies?” he asks. “Destiny?”

You shake your head, searching for something in his expression, some flicker of mercy, of reason. But his face remains unreadable, a mask of determination and something darker, something hungry.

“Neverland is in danger,” he says, each word careful and deliberate. “The magic that lives in this place—my place—is dying. And without it…” He shrugs, his gaze never leaving yours. “Everything disappears.”

His words weigh heavily in the quiet, like something inevitable, something final. You feel his intensity settle around you, wrapping you in its terrifying warmth. You try to find words, a question, a refusal, but his gaze is magnetic, pulling you in, making you agree to help a stranger in a land you have never heard of.

“So… what do you need me to do?” you manage to whisper, though part of you doesn’t want to know the answer.

Peter’s smile widens, his eyes lighting up with satisfaction. “All you have to do is trust me,” he whispers, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering longer than necessary. “Stay close. Follow my instructions. And, together, we’ll save Neverland.”

Something in his voice keeps you from arguing, but as he rises and steps to the cabin door, you feel a prickle of warning crawl up your spine. He pauses before stepping out into the night, looking back with a smirk that’s all shadows. “I won’t be gone long. Don’t wander off.”

He vanishes into the night, leaving you alone in the cabin, his presence lingering like a chill.

You sit in silence, feeling the weight of the room press down on you. But then, as you glance around, you notice something: a small figure slipping quietly through the shadows near the door. One of the Lost Boys, a young boy with wide, anxious eyes and dirty hands clenched tight by his sides.

“Hey,” he whispers, darting forward quickly. “You can’t stay here.”

You stare at him, stunned. “What do you mean?”

“Peter’s going to kill you,” he whispers, eyes darting to the door as if expecting Pan to return at any moment. “The prophecy isn’t about saving Neverland. Not really. It’s about sacrifice.”

The words slice through you, each one sharper than the last. You feel like the air’s been knocked out of you. “But… he said… I’m supposed to help him.”

The boy nods. “Yeah. By dying. He needs someone special to give up everything to save Neverland’s magic. And that’s you.”

Cold realization settles over you, and you feel the sudden urge to run, to escape before he returns. “What do I do?” you whisper to the boy, heart pounding.

“Go. Now. Into the forest. But be quiet.” He glances nervously at the door, and without another word, you slip past him and out into the dark.

The night is thick around you, the towering trees casting long, twisted shadows that stretch across the forest floor. Your long dress snags on branches and roots, tripping you with every few steps. You force yourself up again and again, biting back fear, feeling every second slip through your fingers like grains of sand.

Suddenly, you hear a familiar voice, low and mocking, laced with an edge that sends a chill down your spine. “Oh, running away, are we?”

Pan’s voice echoes through the trees. You freeze, heart hammering in your chest. How did he find you so quickly?

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?” His tone is soft, almost amused, as though he’s enjoying the game. “I can feel you out here, you know. Every step, every breath.”

The sound of his footsteps is subtle, barely more than a whisper against the forest floor, and yet it feels like they’re everywhere, drawing closer with each passing second.

Desperation floods your veins as you stumble forward, tearing at the hem of your dress in frustration, feeling the rough fabric catch on every twisted root and thorn. You can hear his footsteps now, drawing closer, an unhurried, rhythmic pace that fills you with dread. He’s taking his time, savoring the chase.

Your foot catches on a root, and you go sprawling forward, landing hard against the ground. Pain shoots through your knees and palms, and you struggle to get up, every muscle trembling. But before you can, he’s there, emerging from the shadows like a predator, eyes gleaming with a dark thrill.

“Didn’t I tell you?” His voice is barely above a whisper, his eyes locked onto yours as he kneels down, one hand reaching out to grip your wrist. “You’re mine.”

You struggle, but his grip is like iron, fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you to your feet, holding you close, his face inches from yours.

“There’s no escape from me, love,” he murmurs, his gaze softening into something disturbingly gentle, like he’s savoring the moment, the fear in your eyes, the way your breath catches.

“You lied to me,” you manage to whisper, anger flaring beneath the fear. “You’re going to kill me.”

He lets out a low chuckle, eyes alight with a twisted amusement. “Oh, but I never lied,” he says, his voice soft and almost tender. “I told you you were special. That you were needed. And you are. You’re exactly what Neverland needs.”

You try to pull away, but he tightens his hold, pressing his lips close to your ear. “And if it’s any consolation, I will remember you. I’ll make sure every part of this island remembers what you did for it.”

There’s no kindness in his words, only a dark promise, a thread of power that coils around you, suffocating. He lets out a sigh, almost wistful, and for a fleeting moment, you see a flicker of something softer beneath his mask—a glimmer of sadness, of longing. But it’s gone just as quickly as it came, replaced by that cold, calculating gaze.

He pulls you back through the forest, his grip unyielding, dragging you toward a fate you no longer have any illusions about.

He pulls some sort of bag out of his pocket and places it over your face. Shadows close in, and the last thing you hear is the sound of his voice, murmuring like a lullaby.

“Welcome home.”

[sillysowa]

PROMISE

PAIRING: HOBIE BROWN X GN!READER

GENRE: HEAVY ANGST

WORD COUNT: 1.1K

WARNINGS: NOT PROOFREAD, USE OF Y/N, READER DEATH, DESCRIPTION OF INJURIES

AUTHORS NOTE: IF YOU CATCH ANYTHING TAHT ISN’T GN, LET ME KNOW

SYNOPSIS: HOBIE NEVER WANTED IT TO END LIKE THIS…

—

Often, Hobie looked fondly upon your deep caring nature and true heroism that he never saw in anyone else—but this time he only cursed it to hell.

He saw his life flash before his eyes as you swung back into the collapsing building to rescue a civilian, panicked and fueled on the notion that you ‘had to save them.’

He couldn’t have possibly chased after you any faster, and the moment your webs shot them out of the building and into the crowd of people gathered to catch them, he screamed,

“Y/N!” A cry of pure despair tore from Hobie’s throat as he watched the ceiling collapse on his only love.

His heart constricted in his ribcage at the sight of your fear before it happened and the sounds of you pain. He had never moved with so much haste, tearing the rubble off of you with his pulse pounding in his head. You were trapped under incredibly large pieces of the ceiling and Hobie could see your bloodied feet under the small gap he revealed.

“Y/N! Y/N please!” Hobie gasped, crawling under the opening. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of your limp body, pierced in your side by a giant rod of metal from the rubble, bleeding out like a bloody waterfall. You were conscious, but definitely not for long with all the blood loss. Your mask was torn clean off and tears spilled from your poor red eyes,

“H-Hobie…?”

“Y/N-Y/N-Y/N…It’s me!…oh, my love...” His shaking voice cracked as his arms reached out to gently hold you close. You cried and screamed in pain as he cradled you,

“I know I know, I’m sorry my love, I’m so sorry. It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay…I’m here, I’m here.” Hobie rambled, his voice trembling as he turns your head to look away from the wound and into his teary eyes. It was heartbreaking to see him like this,

“Hobie…I don’t want to die…” Your lower lip trembled and your voice was hoarse as you spoke, your rattling fingers clinging to the back of his jacket as you sobbed, the shaking of your body only causing you more pain and making you cry even harder.

“You won’t die baby, I promise.” Hobie almost whispered as he attempted to gently remove the rod from your side, instantly stopping when your screaming grew particularly agonized and sobs of his name fell from your lips, your limp body tensing under him,

“It’s-it’s useless Hobie…” You whimper, swallowing and trying to not hyperventilate. Hobie felt utterly defeated, looking down at the dying light in his arms and knowing there was nothing he could do about it. He hadn’t even realized he was crying until he felt your trembling fingers against his warm skin, wiping away his tears—you were so cold.

He held your hand there as if there was a possibility he could engrave your fingerprints into his skin and keep you there with him. You tried to steady your breathing, tried to muster up the strength to speak,

“P-Please don’t cry, Hobie…”

If only it were that easy. Hobie had never been so afraid in his life as he was watching you fight for your own in his arms, your blood gushing all over him with seemingly nothing he could do to help you.

“I can’t let you die like this…I can’t.” He whispered and squeezed your hand, his warmth an oddly unfamiliar feeling to you as your mind starting to feel fuzzy, your head lolling back only for Hobie to cradle it with his palm,

“Why…?” He asked, his voice low and broken in anguish as he held you, your head in his palm, “You’re all that matters to me you know that right?” Hobie couldn’t bring himself to use words like ‘were’ or ‘mattered.’ You were still there…at least for a little longer,

“I know…” You sobbed, coughing and choking on your blood then whimpering as Hobie’s grub tightened on you and his pulse raced. You were horrified of dying, but relieved that it would be in Hobie’s loving arms. Those same arms that hugged you tight every time he saw you, caged you in when you slept soundly, and saved you countless times. There was no other way you would have your death than this—Hobie looking down on you with your hand against his cheek, whispering about how much he loves you while soaking your fingers with his tears and rocking you gently in his arms,

“Hobie…listen to me okay?” You groan, your eyelashes fluttering as you wince in dying pain,

Hobie just nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. He looked like he was genuinely hanging on every word you said.

“Please, promise me you’ll…keep living…keep fighting everyday, Hobie, just the way you always do-“ You choked out, holding his jacket in your balled up fist. The pinch in your eyebrows, the tears in your eyes, the blood on your lips—it was a nightmare to Hobie,

“N-No please don’t-don’t say things like that please…” Hobie cried and nuzzled his cheek against your palm, scared that it would fall from his face at any moment,

“Hobie you have to promise…” You whimpered, your glossy eyes gazing longingly into his own. Hobie couldn’t…because he knew if he did it would be like sealing the deal on your death. But, he also knew that he couldn’t let you die without doing anything you asked of him, so he swallowed his pain,

“I-I promise…” Hobie whispered, his tears dripping down onto your face, you whimper and your breathing grows slow, your face becoming oddly pale and colorless, your eyes dull,

“Y/N? Y/N, I can’t lose you, please!” Hobie screamed with a hollow voice, barely his voice barely a whisper in the bustling night. He held you like a baby, never feeling so helpless in his life. You didn’t respond to him, just squeezed his jacket until your knuckles turned pale and your hands shook violently before all their movements ceased. Your eyes were Hobie’s only remaining form of contact with you, the light slowly going out and being replaced with the lifeless look of a doll.

Hobie’s body was racked with sobs as his composure crumbled, hot tears brimming down his cheeks as he held your head under his chin. You were gone…his only love, his life, his purpose—gone. He slipped his palm into your hand, squeezing it like your fingers could still hold him—he didn’t want to think about how you could never hold his hand again…

Hobie knew he would never be the same person he was before he had held your dead body in his arms and sobbed for hours, dreaming that you would open your eyes and tell him you’d be okay, that you’d both be okay. He held your hand the whole night, even though your fingers were stuff and you would never feel a thing ever again.

—

@ohxx @luxxtuxx @fatenpara @hobesbf @defnot-bri @lasagnaisbest @deepzombieyouth

[puppetmaster13u]

Howdy, who wants a WIP of my dark-ish dragon batfam that I mentioned and rambled about? I am also open to answering questions and doing even more rambles lol.

Warnings for some gore and such :] Also Tim's lacking self confidence and general unreliable narrator-ness when it comes to everyone.

   “Shh… it’s alright Timmy… you’re okay…” 

   Tim shuddered at the familiar voice, now tilted by a growling croon as fingers- claws- ran through his hair. He hiccuped slightly, the grip on him tightening and tucking him closer to a scaled form. 

    “You’re okay,” Dick crooned again, continuing to run fingers through his hair. “Dad will be back soon, won’t that be nice, Timmy?” 

   Scales scraped against his clothes as the older vigilante nuzzled against him, grip gentle but oh so possessive. He couldn’t tear free if he tried- and oh he had, he’d tried to run a few different times even with his broken leg, until he was no longer left alone. 

   Tim blinked back tears, trying to stop his heart from pounding against his chest as a thumb rubbed against his wrist. He’d never thought that his life would end up like this, cradled in the nest of things no longer pretending to be human. Trapped with no way out. 

   “Shh…” the shushing was more like a hiss, Dick’s cheek rubbing against his cheek as he failed to keep the tears from falling. “It’s alright Timmy, you’re going to be okay, alright? Sh, you’re just a little baby, it’s alright to feel overwhelmed…” 

   He shook his head, unable to make his tongue work or his throat form words, only able to get out a whimper. Tim wanted to go home, to the Drake home, even if it was empty and cold compared to the boiling heat of the Wayne manor. He wanted to pretend he had never become Robin, had never done such a stupid thing without realizing the consequences. 

   Dragons were possessive creatures. He’d known this even before he found out what the Bats were. He knew how violent they could be, even before seeing Nightwing and Batman rip Joker apart. If he wasn’t careful he could still taste blood and feel the viscera spatter across his face and into his hair. 

   Dick hummed, shifting his hold. Claws continued to gently tug tangles from his hair, even if there weren’t any left. “Everything is going to be fine, ‘kay Timmy? Look,” he knew the older boy was motioning to the batcomputer in front of them even if everything was blurry. “Dad is on his way home now, isn’t that nice?” 

   No, because he couldn’t even escape when it was just Dick, nevermind if there was both him and Bruce. Bruce, who could tear open a man’s rib cage like it was a ziplock bag. He didn’t think he could ever forget the sound of it, nor the sight of organs being violently torn free from where they should be. 

   He’d become Robin to stop the violence, but it seemed like he’d made it worse. All it took was one stupid mistake, one stupid slip up that resulted in him being caught, and now people were dead. 

   He couldn’t stop the tears from dripping down his face, even if they were wiped away by sharp claws. He had only wanted to help, he hadn’t meant to make everything worse. 

[lucysstoryworld]

Lease of Life | Azriel x Reader part 2

Hey! Thank you all so much for all the love on the first part. I am honestly blown away by the support and didn’t expect it to become so popular, so truly thank you for that. You’re all incredible.

Just a forewarning, it has been awhile since I read acotar so some things won’t be exactly like the book so forgive me :)

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Angst, violence, dark thoughts.

Drip… Drip… Drip…

Was that noise water of blood?

Where am I?

What happened?

The pounding reverberating through your skull was the only thing you were sure of at the moment. The dull, slow throbbing that threatened your already nauseated stomach even if you so much as lifted a finger. It didn’t help that the breathing of whoever was in the cold room with was so damn irritating. Silence is what you needed, craved. Just enough silence that you could exist unnoticed until the pain passed. 

Room... breathing.. 

Realisation dawned upon you, prising your eyes open with such violence that  the ache in your head threatened to render you unconscious. Inch by inch, you pushed yourself from the ground, feeling as though you were moving in slow motion. You searched around the room, trying to find the source of the breathing. Trying to find your sisters. 

Though you were met with the face of a man. Long, golden hair. Green eyes. Positively handsome. He made a troubled face look exquisite. 

“You’re awake. He will be pleased,” He seemed to say more to himself than to you. 

“Where are my sisters?” Voice crackled, throat aching for water. 

“Safe. That is all you need know, (F/n).” 

He had to be joking, “Safe? Safe... How wonderful, a bunch of men come into my home, rip us from our beds and... murder our staff. How safe of you,” Speaking, no, barking at him the way you did was sure to earn you a beating. However, the images of Dina’s snapped neck fuelled the fire raging at the core of your being. 

“Males,” He responded, eyes flicking from your own to the damp ground you were currently seated on. 

“What?” 

“You said men. Fae are not men and women. We say males and females.” You furrowed your eyebrows, staring at the... male as if he had grown a second head. 

“So from what I just said to you, all you got was that I incorrectly termed your friends. Whatever.” You seemed to trigger something in him, he curled in on himself slightly. 

The moment of vulnerability was short lived when his eyes hardened and he pushed himself to his feet, “You’re more like her than the others. You should keep that smart mouth of yours shut if you know what’s good for you,” Was all he said before he took his leave.

A slight groan and another wave of sickness had you resting your head upon the tiles. At least the cold was smoothing your headache. It lulled you into a dreamless sleep. 

* * *

When you awoke once again, it was instead to the sound of heavy footsteps nearing your cell. A cell. Your confusion from before hadn’t allowed you to fully realise your surroundings. Not that you had much to look at. Nor did you have much time to dwell on it. The headache had not passed and this time it had brought a fresh fever. A cold shiver rattled your body before you were hauled to your feet by those who entered your prison. More males. Lifting you seemed to be as easy as lifting paper to them. You were sure these were the beasts humans were taught to fear. Brutal and ruthless. When your feet began to falter, the creatures shoved you with such force that you stumbled into the ones in front of you. Your breaths became laboured, lungs weak and your heart was stuttering in your ears. From the fear or the stress on your body you weren’t sure.

Blackness began to dance in your peripheral vision when you finally stopped in front of a large wooden door. The slight tang of blood hinted at the back of your tongue, as a slow dark stream dribbled from your nose. Before you had the chance to try stump the flow, a shove had you staggering into the large room. The light sent white hot pain spearing through your eye sockets. Once again, hands plunged you forward. This time, there was no one in front to cushion your fall and you slammed onto the floor, your hands barely catching your body. 

“You bastard! What did you do to her?!” Nesta’s voice ripped through the room like ice cold water. 

Raising your head, you finally saw everything. Your sisters on a dais, kneeling before three crowned women... definitely women. Though the expressions on their faces matched that of the animals that treated you as though you were dirt beneath their feet. Front and centre on the dais was another male whom, like every other fae male and female had a face that seemed to blessed by beauty for which gods kept for themselves. His face was wickedly beautiful, cruelty incarnate. In spite of that, the cauldron in the centre of the room seemed to suck the life out of the room. 

No... it consumed it. 

You couldn’t tear your eyes from it, even as fear prickled your very soul. It was like it was daring you to look away. Taunting you. 

A loud ringing pierced through your hearing, like it was only you and the cauldron. Facing off. It eating into every fear that you possessed. 

“(F/n)!”

Feyre’s screech finally had you moving your gaze. She was surrounded by her family, her eyes screaming unbridled terror. Terror for you, Nesta and Elain. 

“You lay one traitorous hand on her, Tamlin, and I will make good on the debt owed to me for my mother and sister,” Rhysand growled. Turning your head, you saw the blonde male who greeted you in your cell. He seemed frozen in place, his hand outstretched with a scrap of cloth. You assumed it was for your nose, but you could not bring yourself to take it. Your senses were overridden, panic replacing the blood in your body. 

“Now, now. Enough with the theatrics and let us get to the purpose of today.” Everyone’s attention snapped to the man. With a wave of his hand, two men picked Elain up. Elain who was as pale as a sheet of parchment. Elain who made no acknowledgment of the situation thus far. “As promised, human queens. I will show you that immortality can and will be gained.” 

Nesta’s thrashing and screaming became violent as she fought with all her might to get to Elain. Be that as it may, her efforts were fruitless. Elain was plunged into the cauldron, seconds and eons seeming to pass simultaneously. 

A tingling danced through your fingers, an aura passing through your vision. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t happening. Elain had to be okay. She is to be married soon. With that insufferable, alpha-male Grayson that, in this moment, you wished with all your might would come in and rescue her. Save her from the hell she was plunged into. Loud, rattling breaths racked your body, the thumping to your head returning with a vengeance. You locked eyes with Feyre, trying to tell her what was about to happen with your eyes alone. Pleading with her to make you safe. 

And when that blasted cauldron was tipped, and Elain slithered out covered in a sheen of some otherworldly essence was when your eyes rolled back into your head and you dropped to the floor. 

* * * 

Nesta, Feyre and the inner circle watched in horror as convulsions jerked (F/n)’s body. Feyre thrashed and fought in attempt to get to you with Nesta following suit. “Please let me go to her! Please! She will choke!” Mania seemed to grip Nesta’s body. When she could not break free from her captor’s hands, she began to wail “Just turn her on her side at least! Please!”

Tamlin took it upon himself to hold (F/n) on her side as foam began to leak from the corner of her mouth. “I want her in next!” Hybern boomed, seemingly delighted by the situation. His eyes were focused on the newly fae Archeron sister. Elain, whom was examining her new body, still had not uttered a word. She only turned and watched as a guard ripped her sister’s still seizing body from Tamlin’s grip and approached the cauldron. 

Nesta’s crying, Feyre’s roars, all efforts fell on deaf ears as (F/n)’s body disappeared below the surface of the cauldron’s depth. 

* * *

Cold, yet warm. 

Harsh, yet gentle. 

Welcoming, yet uninviting.

All the sensations of the void were at odds with one another. 

Darkness. That was the only thing that appeared to be harmonious in this environment. You wished to stay in the peaceful void, though your body screamed at you to get out. 

What seemed like an eternity passed when light flooded your senses once more. The peace was short lived when you coughed a black liquid up onto the tiled floor. Your head shot up, eyes meeting that of Azriel’s, whom looked like he had seen a ghost. 

“What’s happening?” You all but squeaked, barely remembering anything from entering the room and now. Looking down at yourself, you felt a gentle whirring in your blood. A whirring that felt like you had been born anew. Reborn with a body that felt strong, that bared no hint of the ailments from before. 

When your lithe fingers made contact with your ear, it all made sense. 

Fae. 

“What the fuck,” You whispered to yourself. 

A strange scent flooded your nose, something that you could not explain nor had you ever smelled it before. Whatever it was, it felt wrong. 

The cauldron. 

That’s what it was, you realised when you turned to see Nesta being dragged towards its domineering opening. You wanted to move, ached to run towards her but you felt anchored to the ground with some unmovable force. 

You watched with horror as Nesta met the same fate as your own, as her hand remained above the surface, pointed at the man in charge in a silent threat. 

In a silent promise. 

The general roared, lunging towards your eldest sister. Only to have his wings shredded in the process. Screams erupted from Feyre and her family. Possibly even you, but the sounds all fused as one and you couldn’t find your own in the mix. Seeing that blood pool from his body had you emptying the contents of your stomach onto the floor. 

When the cauldron was tipped once again, Nesta’s body flowed with it. You sobbed as you pulled her towards your body, feeling an unmatched terror as she lay motionless.

“C’mon, wake up,” You mumbled, slapping her cheeks. 

Moments passed before she sputtered to consciousness. Despite the situation, relief was the only thing you could feel. Relief at her survival. Elain’s. Your own. 

“Hybern you son of a bitch!” Morrigan growled, almost animalistic. 

“What a perfect outcome! Look,” He gestured from the human queens, to you, “Look at this success. The cauldron even possessed the power to cure the shortcomings of this human girl. Rest assured, you will be immortal. Never again to be plagued by the ailments of a mortal body!” 

“You’re psychotic,” You boomed before you realised you were speaking. 

The only reply in which you received was a smile that screamed victorious. Like he was the most cunning male to have walked Prythian. Narrowing your eyes, you challenged him. You knew it was idiotic, but you dared him with your gaze to take you on. To jump into the ring with you. 

Before he had the inkling to respond, blinding white light exploded throughout the room. Frantically, you tried to find the source. Only to see that it was pulsing from Feyre. Raw power flooded your senses. Flooded from your sister into you, filling you with the purest form of love and protection. Like Feyre actively encased you with all the comfort that she hadn’t in the years since she had left. 

When it finally dimmed, she appeared different. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for something. 

“Tamlin?” Her panicked... innocent? voice whimpered. 

Someone then. 

Feyre began a tirade of almost incoherent mumbling about how she had been taken against her will and glamoured this whole time. Confusion rippled down your body, looking from your sister to Tamlin whom looked at Feyre as though she brought the sun and stars to the earth. Looking back at her family, they looked just as bewildered as you felt. It only lasted a second before Morrigan and Azriel were with you. Morrigan clasped both her hands onto you and Nesta, while Azriel lifted Elain. 

And from one moment to the next, you went from being seated on the tiled floor with Nesta to the plush carpet of place you had never been. The scent of Feyre lingered throughout the room, providing you with some comfort. It did not last for long. 

When it dawned upon you that she was not here, you shot to your feet with legs that had the consistency of jelly. You leaned upon Morrigan, and looked at Rhysand with such anger that it sent that whirring in your blood boiling. 

Whispering, for you felt that you could not keep the cap on that boiling sensation if you raised your voice so much as an octave, you said, 

“Where is she?” 

I hope you enjoyed this! Let me know if there are any mistakes! :)

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[lucifersdeadbride]

“Let’s Dance Together In The Rain”

A scenario in which MC (being you) wants to dance in the rain with their beloved demon. How will each one respond? A short one shot for each brother. (some fluff, somewhat angst, and Asmo as always is touchy, but no suggestive themes) 2 paragraphs per brother

LUCIFER:

“Excuse me?” Lucifer asked you rhetorically with a sly smirk on his face, purely just wanting his ears to be blessed with such a question once more. You rolled your eyes and smiled, dropping your umbrella to the ground and letting the rain droplets soak you beneath the fabric. “I said, would you like to dance with me in the rain?” You asked over the speakers of the coffee shop playing melodic music to those walking past. You and Lucifer both shared the same taste in music, as well as a taste for pure, melancholy romance. Lucifer dropped his own umbrella with a faint chuckle, and looked up at the dark sky as he basked in the cold droplets decorating his face blissfully. He looked down to find you patiently waiting in front of him with a smile still plastered on your face, your hand out to him eagerly waiting to be hugged by his own. Lucifer quickly wrapped his arm around your waist, pressing his chest against your own, and his hand gently entangling your fingers with his. “Follow my lead, my love. He whispered against your ear before leaving a kiss on your lobe, causing your cheeks to grow hot, and your stomach to be riddled with butterflies.

You two danced away in the middle of the plaza to the faint music, not caring for the judgement blatantly given by passing onlookers. As you two laughed and dramatically danced in the wet downpour, unphased by the natural shower dowsing you both to the bone, Lucifer pulled you close to his face. His hand braced your back to keep you pressed, and his lips barely grazed your own in a subtle tease. You felt your heart pound as you gazed into his eyes, finding comfort in the shared, longing silence. Before you could speak your mind, the tall, prideful demon already beat you to it. “I love you, so much. I’d dance with you in the rain over and over again if it means keeping you happy, and getting to call you mine forever.” He finished his sentence with a deep kiss full of passion, the kind that makes your heart stop and your blood run hot. The kind of kiss that makes time feel senseless, and life feel nothing more than a simulation. The kind of kiss that lets you know, you’re his and only his, forever.

MAMMON:

“Oi, you want me to what?!” Mammon asked with a scoff, already crossing his arms to let you know he’s not about it. “Ain’t no way I’m dancing in the cold, wet rain!” You pouted, looking down at your feet to seem all glum. “Oh, okay…” you said with the saddest tone possible, knowing you could easily manipulate him into changing his mind to please you, albeit evil. “I just thought it’d be romantic and fun.” You mumbled while lightly tapping a puddle of rain with your foot, causing droplets to faintly splash onto the top of your shoe. Mammon watched the mood change very quickly, and groaned to himself while scratching his head in frustration, eyeing your foot tapping away sadly at the puddle. He sighed heavily and snatched the umbrella you held in your hand, already dropping his onto the sidewalk without caring for other pedestrians. “Yah, no human of mine is gonna be sad. Especially because of me!” He exclaimed boastfully, practically yanking your body into the drizzle. You laughed while wrapping your arms around his neck, and forcing closure between you both, pressing your nose against his own. “Mammonie, you’re too easy~” You teased before pecking his lips. Mammon immediately blushed, rolling his eyes and pulling out his AirPods. “You know I could never say no to you.”

He places one pod into your ear while the other in his own. “Um, won’t the rain ruin these, Mammonie?” You ask with concern coating your tone. He shrugs, picking a romantic dance playlist from his D.D.D. and tucking it away into his coat pocket. “So what? The Great Mammon can always buy a new pair. What’s important is keeping my human happy.” With rosy cheeks he pecked your forehead, holding you close against his chest, his arms resting comfortably on your lower back as if they were meant to be there. You happily snuggled against his chest, the smile on your face never leaving as you two swayed slowly within the rain. Becoming soaked to the bone in cold rain never felt so amazing.

LEVIATHAN:

“Leviachan~” you cooed out to the otaku while peeking into his room. Just before you could step in a bolt of lightning flashed and crashed outside the window, causing the sweet demon to quiver and hide under his blanket with not a second to spare. You winced slightly, but only from the sudden obnoxiousness that came about. “Levi, you okay?” You asked as you fully stepped in, shutting the door behind you. His TV displayed a dim screen of a paused game that he’s been raving about nonstop for days. You could hear the faint whimpering from under the shivering covers, and you couldn’t help but smile fondly at how cute it was to find the third strongest demon lord afraid of a little storm. “Leviathan, it’s okay.” You spoke softly while peeking under his makeshift hideout. He opened his eyes and immediately smiled the moment he saw your face. “Darling, I’m so happy to see you…” Levi sat up with the blanket slowly falling from his head down his shoulders. He then immediately blushed, looking away with his hands covering his cheeks. “Agh, I’m sorry you had to see me in such a lame, vulnerable state. You probably think I’m such a weakling.” You chuckled, leaning over the tub he lay in and placing a kiss on his hands that remained pressed against his embarrassed face. You could feel the heat emanating from the immense blushing even through his fingers.

“You’re the strongest, bravest demon I know, Leviachan. So brave that you’re willing to dance in the scary rain with me.” You casually suggested while guiding him out the tub, pulling him out gently by his arm. The blanket fell along the rim. Levi gasped, shaking his head super fast. “No way! I’m not going out there in such danger!” His demeanor carried heavy reluctance. You pursed your lips with a sigh, looking away at anything but the otaku himself. “I understand. I guess I could ask one of your brothers to see if they’re interested. Oh!” You perked up, “Solomon would definitely dance in the rain with me!” You thought aloud on purpose, hoping to make Levi just a tad jealous to swindle his mind. You peeked over at the cute hermit to find him already fully clothed in rain gear, buttoning up his rain jacket with determination. Your face immediately fell into a shocked, confused look with an over-preparedness for the storm. Levi adjusted his rain boots before taking your hand into his, already pulling you towards his bedroom door. “As the normies say: let’s roll.”

SATAN:

The weather of the Devildom was gloomy today. Grey skies and consistent rain with a dash of bitter winds. One might find this mood dampening, but you found this splendid for your day of binge reading. For once you were left alone in your room. No pestering from the brothers’ shenanigans that you somehow were always dragged into, or an hour long lecturing from Lucifer for arriving thirty seconds late to class. A blue moon was more occasional than the alone time you were granted. Nothing more than just you, your fluffy blanket gifted to you by Asmo during past holidays, and your romance novel borrowed from the librarian himself, Satan. It wasn’t surprising nor unexpected of him to suggest such a beautifully written story. You were deeply invested in this chapter, and found yourself rereading a specific paragraph involving the main couple romantically dancing away their worries in the rain. You couldn’t help but blush as you played the scenario in your mind with yourself and Satan substituting the characters. The thought of someone as handsome as himself, artistic and intelligent, putting his hand out to you as the rain soaked his gorgeous locks, and complimented his stunning complexion, caused you to silently become feral. You sighed heavily while gently tossing the book to your side, grabbing your throw pillow to cover your face in disappointment. Sometimes it hurt to live your fantasy out in your head. The eagerness to act out this script was almost too much to bare. Quickly, a knocking at your door brought you out of your elusive thoughts. Apprehensively, you rolled out of the comfort of your bed, and made your way to the calling. As you opened your door you were met with the “main character” of your beloved book. Satan stood there with a smile, and an umbrella to his side almost mimicking a cane.

“Good evening, sweetheart.” He endearingly greeted, bringing a blush to your cheeks almost instantly. You smiled, “Uh– you the same– uh–“ you stumbled over your words, not making any sense and feeling an overwhelming wave of embarrassment. Satan couldn’t help but laugh softly to himself. You could feel yourself shrinking with every chuckle. “I’m sorry, you’re just so funny.” He apologized yet complimented. You looked away bashfully, quickly moving on. “Why’d you stop by?” You asked. Satan tapped along the handle of the umbrella anxiously, but very subtle. “How far have you gotten through that book?” He questioned with an eager intent. You shrugged, “A little over halfway. Why?” Satan immediately grinned, peeking through your door to look out your window from where he stood. He nodded towards the gloomy view. “So, you think we can reenact the couple’s first dance? I’ve been waiting many long years to find the perfect someone to fit such a romantic scenario.” Satan asked sweetly, almost giddy-like with just the hope of the possibility you’d agree. You couldn’t even find yourself to answer him, feeling drenched in shock and disbelief. It’s almost as if he read your mind. But, it clicked; “Hm,” you chuckled, “it seems I may have read your mind, Satan.” You reached up on your toes and pecked his nose softly, causing his cheeks to burn up. “I’ll get dressed.” You said with a smirk, leading him into your room by hand to await your readiness.

ASMODEUS:

“Honey, there’s no way!” Asmo refused while looking away from you and into his mirror, applying lip gloss intricately. You flopped onto his bed, rolling yourself into a blanket burrito. “But why not?!” You whined, holding a pout. “Rain is dirty, and will cause my hair to severely frizz. Not to mention I don’t want you catching a cold.” The beauty king quickly responded, turning to you in his spinning chair. “Why don’t we just stay in and practice skincare instead?” Asmo suggested, poking gently at your nose as only your head stuck out from your fabric cocoon. You frowned and turned away from him, rolling your eyes feeling annoyed. “We always do that.” Your tongue was sharp, “We always do what you want to do, but anytime I suggest something you find reason to say no.” Your tone carried more sadness than anger. You and Asmo have been together for a while now, and it hurt to feel like you were always second to everything in his life. It hurt to feel like your opinions or wants and needs didn’t matter. It may be something as silly as dancing in the rain, but it was more than that. You wanted to be put first for once. The lustful demon wore an expression of shock, slowly pushing himself away from the bed you lay on. The room was tense, silent, and a bit awkward. You couldn’t read if he were upset by your words or offended. You sat upright, still wrapped in his blanket, trying to find the right words to say even though a peep hasn’t come out of him.

“Even if it’s not dancing in the rain,” you began quietly, “I want to try something different with you tonight– anything! Something I like to do and want to share with you. There are other things we can do together other than–” “Hush, love.” Asmo cut you off in a whisper as he climbed onto the bed, pulling your cocoon apart slowly. He let the silky blanket rest against your shoulders loosely, and wrapped his arms tenderly around your neck in a cradle. “You’re right.” The demon uttered against your lips, causing you to blush instantaneously. “I’ve never realized this until you said it, but you’re right, we always do what I want to do. We always go shopping, do makeup, skincare, nails, all that I adore.” Asmo moved from your lips to your ear, nibbling your lobe teasingly. This was always his way of talking to you when you both argued or disagreed on things. You couldn’t help but melt every single time. Your cheeks remained hot as he continued to whisper. “I’ve never cared for anyone else’s interests, especially if they weren’t related to my own. You’re not just anyone else though,” he kissed your neck, “you’re special to me. Everything you care for, I care for. What matters to you matters to me, too.” Asmo pulled back just enough to brush the hair out of your face. With a smile, he kissed your forehead and trailed to your nose, and eventually your lips, passionately. This time he was much more sincere than other moments. He left you speechless, but you couldn’t contain your happiness as your face beamed with the affection. “Asmo…” you mumbled, his name rolling off your tongue with pure bliss. He chuckled at your expression, and placed his fingers under your chin, gently guiding you back to his lips. His breath coated your own as he once again whispered, “Come on love, let’s go dance in the rain to your heart’s desire.”

BEELZEBUB:

“Would you look at that,” Beel motioned out the window of the restaurant you both sat in as he spoke with a mouth full of food, “black rain.” You set your fork down and dabbed at your mouth with your linen napkin, staring out at the downpour of what depicted squid ink drenching all of Downtown Devildom. You frowned, turning back to him, “Black rain?” You asked confused. “Sounds dangerous.” You added in while poking at your dinner. You felt full and couldn’t take another bite, but knew it definitely wouldn’t go to waste with your gluttonous demon who’s practically a vacuum for leftovers. “I’ve heard Lucifer mention it before but, he never explained much of it to me. Or,” you shrugged, “maybe he did and I just lost interest and tuned him out.” You laughed at your own words, Beel doing the same. “Wouldn’t surprise me. Well,” he paused to pull your plate away from your side to his, not even asking but already knowing, “it’s definitely not dangerous. I don’t remember what causes it, but it’s not often we get to see it happen. Nothing amazing,” he stuffed his mouth, “just black water falling from the sky.” You chuckled as you watched him eat with a big smile. Food always made him so happy. You sometimes even wondered if it took precedence over yourself, and you didn’t really want to know the answer.

“It’s finally slowing down.” Beel muttered while holding your hand across the table, his chin resting in the other. Some time went by as you both awaited the end of the downpour. “I’d rather start going now while it’s drizzling before I eat the entire kitchen.” “You mean again?” You quickly retorted, “Because you just did that.” You finished with a laugh, and he did the same. “Yeah, I guess I did.” He stood from the booth and onto his feet, his hand still holding yours. “Come on, muffin.” He practically cooed, seeming eager to head back home. Probably already thinking about what’s in the fridge for him to raid. You smiled and stepped out from the booth, wrapping your arms around his toned, large bicep. As you walked out the restaurant, Beel placed his jacket over your head in an attempt to keep you dry. He was always so sweet, putting others before himself in every way possible. Surprisingly, even with the consistent drizzle of black rain, you both took your time walking home, not minding the weather and its nuisance. You stopped in your tracks so suddenly, causing Beel to mindlessly tug on your wrapped arms as he tried to continue on. He looked back at you confused. “What is it?” His tone coated with concern. You pointed at a street busker who played his violin beautifully under a small tarp, keeping his little space dry from the black rain. “Listen! It sounds so beautiful!” You said full of excitement and joy. Beel couldn’t help but smile at how happy it made you. “It is beautiful, isn’t it?” He agreed. You let your arms slip from his and down to his hand, gently hugging it with your much smaller fingers. You looked up to him with a sparkle in your eyes, letting rain droplets decorate your face. They mimicked mascara-shed tears. His jacket almost slipped off your head, but he caught it with his free hand in time. The rain already began making its way through your hair. “Um, Beel? Would you care to dance with me?” You asked nervously, but kept a hopeful smile. The hungry demon looked puzzled for a moment, then laughed softly. “In the rain?” He questioned, then shrugged before giving you any time to answer. “Sure,” he said whilst picking you up into his arms without warning, playfully twirling as he placed a peck on your soaked cheek, “I’d love to dance with you, Muffin.”

BELPHEGOR:

Belphegor absolutely loves visiting you in your dreams. It’s a two-in-one package deal for him: getting to sleep and still spending time with you. He’s always able to create the perfect date scenarios for you both, and make them as magical as you want. Best of all, you two are all to yourselves. No brothers to steal you away, no school studies, and no unpredictable roadblocks. You started to become just like your slothful lover; always looking forward to bedtime. You looked over at your alarm clock on your bedside table for the time, and couldn’t help but to smile knowing it was indeed time for bed. You quickly gathered your favorite pillow and blanket before heading out your bedroom door, making your way to the sleepy demon’s attic. Your steps were fast, but quiet. You didn’t want to attract any unwanted attention from anyone at this moment. You didn’t have time for book organization, playing new video games, or handling gambling debts. All you could handle and wanted on your schedule was cuddling up into dreamland with Belphie. You really had become a twin of the demon himself. Beelzebub would be so jealous. With a few more turns and agonizing climbing of stairs, you eventually made your way to the attic. Belphegor was already sitting on the floor with his pillow and blanket near the entrance, patiently waiting on your arrival. He looked up from snuggling his pillow and smiled, his eyes full of delight the moment they touched your face. “My shooting star~” He said softly, standing on his feet and dropping his belongings to cup your face, planting a gentle kiss to your lips. His excitement he exuded through his affection never failed to make your heart melt.

You both got settled in by decorating the bed in plush throw pillows and fluffy blankets, eager to rest your bodies in the comfort. You did so first, while Belphie dimmed the lights to a low setting if it were that of a single lit candle in a spacious room. As you cradled your favorite pillow in a fetal position, the sleepy demon carefully crawled his way onto the bed, making sure not to pinch your limbs in the process. He then situated himself right next to you as the bigger spoon, tucking his arms under yours to pull you into his chest. The warmth that cradled you instantly made your heart flutter, and you couldn’t help but smile as Belphie placed his chin in the crook of your neck, letting a warm sigh out that raised the hairs of your nape. “So, my dear,” he began, his lips grazing against your skin, adding to your already familiar goosebumps. “Where would you like to have our date tonight?” Your arms moved from your pillow and instantly atop his own, gently tracing up and down with light tickles against his skin. You hummed, “Mm, London sounds wonderful.” He chuckled. “London? I like it. What would you like to do?” He asked, simultaneously leaving a couple kisses along your shoulders. You felt a blush coat your cheeks as you subtly hid your face away into your pillow, feeling as if your idea might be cliche and a joke to him. “I was thinking…maybe we could dance in the rain? Maybe to some beautiful classical music?” You asked bashfully. “But if you want to do something else, that’s fine, too.” You immediately suggested on a defense. Belphegor couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, subconsciously pulling you into his body even more than before. “Why so shy?” He kissed your ear with a gentle nibble to your lobe, whispering, “I couldn’t think of a better date than that. Let’s dance our dreams away in the rains of London, my shooting star.”

[aestheticpearl]

— 𝐩𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐞𝐚

✧·˚ it’s not fair when things don’t go as planned someone ends up getting hurt. xanthus should know that by now and now he must face the consequences.

warnings. heavy angst

a/n: this is a repost because tumblr took it down, so please show as much love on this one as you did the last!! thank you!

your heart was pounding in your ears as you were struggling in audric’s iron grip, trying to free yourself to be with xanthus who was struggling to get to you before he could hurt you. you were terrified, shaking with tears in your eyes, trying to brace yourself for whatever pain was in store for you.

“is this it?! is this your revenge? i told you what happened was a mistake i’m sorry!” xanthus pleaded while still actively struggling.

“what you’ve done cannot be undone lawrence. so, i will do what i must to make you feel my pain. your mistake killed my family, this is my revenge.”

audric’s grip on your wrist tightens and you fear he’ll break it. you look to xanthus, try to find some sort of reassurance that you’ll be okay, but you can’t see any evidence of emotions that would bring you the comfort.

“your quarrel is with me, not them! please audric, they’re all i have.”

“my family was all i had.” audric says coldly before biting his wrist to draw blood.

he takes enough time to let xanthus process what his next move is going to be and watches as xanthus’ face drops at the realization.

“no! don’t do this! love don’t drink it!”

before you realize what, he’s talking about audric’s wrist is pressed against your mouth, unintentionally tasting the bitter blood. after audric knows you’ve had a taste he throws you to the ground hard enough to knock the wind out of you and you hear the sickening crack of your skull on the cement floor.

“love! please! love look at me!” xanthus’ voice is muffled and there’s a ringing your head.

you touch your head to find blood seeping from it. you’re too scared to look for the source of it on your head, you’ve always been squeamish with injuries.

“first dose.” audric states before grabbing you by your hair, you scream in pain. “don’t worry, i won’t kill you yet, i want you to suffer.”

“stop it! you’re hurting them!” xanthus’ pleads fall on deaf ears as audric drags you out of the room while you scream in pain.

the heavy door slams shut and xanthus can hear the automatic lock click, now muffling your cries of pain. he slams his fist against the wall of his cell and holds back tears of frustration. he can feel the pain you’re in and it’s excruciating, if it’s bad for him he knows it’s even worse for you.

“xanthus?”

“i’m fine dontis, i just need to get out of this cell.”

“how are we going to do that?”

“i have an idea.”

your weak body hits the cold ground in a dark room, and you don’t have the strength to move your body to face audric’s large figure, but you watch his shadow loom over you.

“please don’t do this…” you cry out weakly.

“i hate to lie and say it’s nothing personal, but it very much is.” he gets down on one knee and forces you to drink more of his blood.

the dark substance is spread all over your face and it makes you feel sick that your captors blood heals your wounds. you know better though; you know it only so he can inflict more wounds on you without killing you. he’s using you to torture xanthus because he knows hurting you will hurt him more than anything else.

“second dose.” he whispers under his breath before pulling out a notebook and writing something down and leaving the room, letting the door close and lock behind him. you close your eyes and pray that you don’t wake up in the same hell you’re in currently.

unfortunately for you, you awake in the same hell as before. it’s too dark for you to tell if your eyes are even open and you’re unsure if you’re even awake until the door swings open to reveal audric’s figure along with another unknown person.

“feeding time, love.”

the use of the pet name xanthus gave you makes your stomach turn. you struggle to sit up to face him, your whole-body aches in pain with the torture that you’ve experienced. once you properly look up at the two men standing in the doorway, your blood runs cold at the vampire that is clearly starving that audric is holding back without any effort.

“don’t be scared, the pain you feel is only temporary.”

audric let’s the vampire loose as it jumps onto you and starts attacking you, grabbing any limbs it can and biting down harshly on them. it’s like being stabbed over and over again with a knife, you are unsure if they’re even drinking your blood or just leaving puncture wounds everywhere.

your body heals with each dose of vampiric blood but it’s your mental state that is quickly deteriorating. every sudden movement, every unexpected noise has you on edge and you can’t find peace in the darkness of the room you’re kept in, and you fear for what might be in the room with you. you are only human after all.

once the vampire finishes the pain it inflicts on your body you’re roughly pushed back down to the cold ground. the air is knocked out of you at the sudden force, and you choke out a breath.

“audric, please.” you sound broken. “i want to go home.” tears well in your eyes at the mention of home. you’re beyond scared and the thought of being safe again brings you to tears.

“don’t you see? this is your new home, you are never leaving this place; you are never getting out of here…” he lets out a dark chuckle. “…alive at least.”

the pain you feel is intense before audric uses his blood to heal you again. the shock that this is doing to your weakened body only makes you feel worse, you start to wonder if you’ll ever leave this place, and you hope that this pain you are feeling is only from you and not from the bond. you pray that xanthus isn’t as affected by what audric is doing to you. you hope that it isn’t affecting him, that he’s not letting him win by showing that he can feel the pain.

xanthus is very much affected by the torture that you are being put through, he feels every sharp pain, every spike of anxiety that you experience, it rattles him to his very core. dontis tries his best to help his friend with a form of mediation to help him push through and not give audric the big reactions that he’s looking for; breathing exercises are the most helpful and dontis shows his support by breathing through it with him.

a part of him feels guilty for not reacting to your pain. the most he does is flinch at the pain for just a split second before acting as though nothing happened. xanthus tries to count the days by counting each second into each minute into an hour and so on, but eventually he loses count and he has no way to track the time.

time seems to drag on and you do your best to try to fight through the pain that you’re being put through, but your mind feels numb; likes you’ve checked out mentally. this doesn’t go unnoticed by audric and he says it’s time.

“up you go.” audric pulls you up roughly by your arm so harshly that due to your lack of nutrition you know it will bruise badly. “it’s time to see your bond.”

your ears perk up at the mention on seeing xanthus again. you wonder what state he has been left in, hopefully a better one than you.

your weak body is dragged through the empty bare halls that echo the sound of footsteps on the smooth cement floor. a patchy trail of blood follows you due to the open wounds littered around your skin from the last ‘feeding’ session taht audric decided not to heal. the pain from them is numb to you, audric’s control over your mind makes it so, if it wasn’t for what he had already done you would’ve mistaken it for pity but you know better and that he’s only doing it so you don’t fight back.

audric stops at a large bolted shut door and drops the hold on your arm to open it. you hit the ground harder than you mean to, failing to catch yourself. your head hits the cold floor and you hear the familiar sound of cracking and then the warmth of blood dripping down the side of your face.

“bleeding again? gosh you humans are so fragile.” audric spits out while pushing the door open and grabbing your arm to throw you into the room. your rag doll of a body is slammed against a cage that rattles at the force and you swear you can feel your already broken ribs puncture a lung causing you to cough violently and struggle to breathe properly.

“..love?”

xanthus.

his voice nearly makes you burst into tears, it sounds so soft and is filled with concern.

“i must say lawrence, they’re a lot stronger than i thought they would be.” audric pulls you aways from the cage and lifts you to your feet that you can’t stand on without audric holding you up.

your head is pounding and everything is blurry through your eyes, but you try your hardest to focus on xanthus. he’s standing in front of you trying to assess all of the damage that audric has done to you.

“you’re going to be fine love, d-don’t worry. we’ll get you out of here and fix you up.” xanthus’ voice hitches as he looks at the fresh blood on your face.

audric lets out a loud laugh.

“oh lawrence, you always did know how to make me laugh.” he says, readjusting you to be in front of him. “you are never getting out of here.”

you suddenly feel a wave of release wash over you and you realize you can move on your own. the pain shoots through you and grip the bars to stop yourself from falling over. you feel xanthus’ hands cover your own. the small action plus the ridiculous amount of pain your in makes your tears flow freely down your cheeks as you look up to lock eyes with xanthus. his expression scares you even more, he’s mortified at the state your in.

you can’t bare to look at him any longer with that expression painted on his face. your legs fail you and you end up on the ground meekly holding onto the bars still. xanthus quickly gets down to your level trying to see if you’re breathing.

“i-i’m sorry xanthus.” you choke out your words, pushing through the pain just to speak to him. “i’m so scared, i-i tried to be b-brave and i failed.”

“it’s okay love, you’ve been so brave, i’m so proud of you love. you didn’t fail me i promise.” he sounds like he’s pleading with you to stay strong.

“i think it’s time to put them out of their misery, don’t you think lawrence?” audric asks harshly pulling you away from him.

“no! audric let them go!”

audric’s hand grips your hair tightly, making the open wound on your skull bleed more down your face.

“just smell that delicious blood lawrence. you really know how to pick them huh?”

the smell of your blood was driving xanthus insane. he was hungry but it was overshadowed by the anger he felt at the fact you were bleeding and badly hurt.

audric pulls a knife from behind him and traces the sharp blade on your jawline. you can hear xanthus practically growl at the action.

tears roll down your cheeks onto the reflective blade being now held tightly at your throat. you look to xanthus for any kind of comfort and the only thing on his face is panic and soon your blood paints his features as he lets out a horrific scream.

the hurt stops.

then it starts again.

it’s a piercing pain that travels through every nerve in your system and shocks you awake. you’re still in the same room on the floor covered in blood, you see xanthus free from his cage standing over what seems to be a body that you can only assume is audric.

every part of you aches and you sit up from your place on the floor. xanthus sees you move through his peripheral vision and turns to face you.

“i’m sorry.” he apologizes. “i couldn’t save you in time. the bond is broken.”

he looks at you differently, theres no ounce of affection for your in his eyes anymore. you can only see the pain in them and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“xanthus?”

he walks over to you and offers a hand.

“come. let’s find dontis and leave.”

his words are as cold as the hand that you take.

“you’re a vampire now.”

inspired by this post by @belladonnadawn thank you so much for the idea

i think this has been in the works since i saw the post which was like months ago i’m just glad i finally finished it.

.love always <3 pearl

.masterlist