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youwerenevermeanttofeelalone · 1 year

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Dips and Valleys | Damian Wayne

✦ pairing — older!Damian Wayne x afab!female!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 2.5k

✦ request — I was wondering if I could request a older Damian Wayne x Plus size reader nsfw? Which would be that they are experiencing some new foreplay with Damian being the sub for once by being tied up in a chair getting teased real well to the point he doesn't make it. It would be funny if Damian had enough of her teasing and skillfully untied those ropes and well... become his dom self and had his way with her

✦ warnings — nsfw, switching, teasing, chair bondage (male receiving), brief marking (male recieving), cum play, cum swallowing, fellatio, unprotected sex (please don't do this), vaginal sex, implied creampie, aftercare.

✦ MINORS DNI

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Damian was still for once, looking up at you with feigned patience.

There was something about him being tied up to your vanity chair specifically that got to you; something somewhat primal, possessive to an extent.

Tracing the dips and valleys of his toned body, something you have done countless of times before, felt new this time around that he couldn't touch you back.

You had thought about this before, about what it would feel like to have him at your mercy like he often had you at his.

Damian looked so pretty, gazing at you through his lashes, sighing in pleasure as you touched him. The look suited him, almost everything did.

He shuffled as a reflex, so used to touching you that he forgot he was tied up until the silk around his wrists reminded him so.

But he didn't complain, he liked pleasing you a little too much. And you knew he was curious.

Leaning in, you kissed him just because you missed his lips, hands firm on his shoulders. He twitched; once again reminded that he wasn't in control, that he would have to wait until next time to get his hands on you.

He let out a desperate whimper, boosting your ego and encouraging you to kiss him more firmly, to indulge him by letting your tongue slide past his full lips, purposefully dragging your hands down his chest.

Damian tried to push himself forward, attempting to kiss you just the way he liked to. You couldn't help but giggle against his lips, relishing on his desperation so much that you feared he might have created a monster.

"Stop teasing," he demanded in a poorly-hidden whine.

He sounded delightful. His accent always came out richer when he was aroused, but the lilt of his neediness could easily become your favorite.

"Will you beg me?" you lightheartedly asked against his bottom lip.

Damian shook his head yet didn't dare to remind you that he never begged.

The outline of his cock was clear, straining his underwear. You almost felt bad for him; that was until you remembered every instance he had teased you until you couldn't take it anymore.

You brushed your knuckles against his clothed cock, pressing your lips to his jaw. His cock twitched.

Damian cursed under his breath, nuzzling his face against yours as he tried to get you to kiss him again.

Resting both your hands on his thighs, you pushed your body onto him, lightly pressing your lips against his. He parted his mouth, but you didn't kiss him.

He said your name, attempting a warning tone that came out desperate. It made you giggle which earned you a pout.

Because your intentions weren't to neglect him, only to tease him, you dragged your lips downward, finding compromise on his neck. Damian started grunting the moment your hands started moving up and down his thighs, lingering upward but away from his crotch.

You would have thought it was harder for you than it was for him if it weren't for his squirms and sighs.

Not giving in to the urge to kiss him until his lips were swollen was pure torture when he sounded so desperate, when he looked at you like he needed you.

"Why do you..." he trailed off, exhaling through his mouth as yours licked up his neck.

"Why do I what?" you asked, amused.

Damian didn't answer immediately, prompting you to kiss the shell of his ear down to the earlobe. With a shudder, he gritted his teeth.

Reaching the inside of one of his thighs with your hand, you rubbed up and down as you mouthed at his neck, trying not to smile as Damian wiggled to get you to touch him where he wanted.

“Patience,” you said against his skin. Your voice lacked the command his carried when he demanded patience from you, but you didn’t seem to need it to have an effect on him.

He opened his mouth to say something, you heard —and felt— it in the inhale he took, but you didn’t let him speak as your hand made full contact with his crotch. Palming his cock, you took a couple of steps backward to lower your mouth to his collarbones.

Damian choked out a loud groan, throwing his head back. Just when you thought he would simply let you have your way with him, he canted his hips upward to force more contact.

You kissed his chest, trying not to giddily laugh on his skin as he once again sought for more friction. Trailing kisses down his torso, you slowly caressed him from on top of his boxers, feeling the rumble of his impatient sounds.

Eventually, you kneeled between his legs, hands on his hips as you littered kisses all over his thighs. Damian’s breath grew ragged and it hitched when you gave his clothed cock a kiss.

Parting your lips, you dragged them along his length. He was painfully hard, and you were embarrassingly aroused. You rubbed your face against his cock, bringing a hand down to pet him so you could go back to kiss his thighs.

Damian moaned when your teeth scraped his left thigh, cock pulsating under your touch.

“You sound so good,” you praised without thinking, wet lips almost flush against his strong thigh. A thought occurred to you. “Can I mark you?”

“Fuck,” he growled. “You can,” he consented, breathless.

Your hold on his cock tightened as you attached your mouth to his skin, suckling until you were sure his skin would bruise just to lick the fresh marks. He drove his hips forward, rutting against your touch.

Your name dropped from his lips, strangled, and you felt his cock spasm as he came. You couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him, admiring his mouth parted and brows furrowed.

Damian’s chest heaved up and down as he recovered his breath. It didn’t take him long to go back to his silent inhaling and exhaling.

In a swift motion, he undid the silk rope around his wrists and grabbed you by the face as he stood up.

“Clean up the mess you made,” he softly instructed.

You nodded, bringing your hands up to his hips to pull his boxers down. Damian’s cock slapped free, covered in cum and half-hard.

Tracing your bottom lip with his thumb, he said, “Don’t use your hands.”

You whined.

“It’s only fair,” he reminded you, removing his thumb so you would do what he wanted you to do already.

You swirled your tongue around his tip, mixing his cum with your spit as you did so. Damian hummed in appreciation, moving his hand to the back of your head in encouragement.

His cum coated your mouth as you fully wrapped your lips around his cock. Slowly bobbing your head, you cleaned up every inch, used to the salty taste. You mewled, feeling his fingers slip into your hair, pushing yourself to take him all at once until your eyes became wet with tears and you choked a little.

He was deep in your throat, looking down into your teary eyes as you swallowed around his cock to assure him you were fine. His eyes glazed over, completely gone, unbothered by whatever had been troubling him that morning, fingers lazily massaging your scalp as you leaned backward, then forward, dragging your lips against him just the way he liked.

A part of you expected him to fuck your mouth, remind you of your place. But both of you knew he didn’t need to do such a thing, that your steady pace, his groans, and the sound of his cock hitting the back of your throat were more than enough.

Damian pushed you off his swollen hard cock. You licked your own saliva and his precum off, moving downward to catch his balls into your mouth which you found harder to do without being able to use your hands and without his guidance.

He tugged on your hair once, trying to pry you away from his balls and perineum. You gave his balls small pecks, coming back to his cock to do the same, making him moan loudly and obscenely.

“Enough,” he gritted out. “Unless this is as far as you want to go—”

You didn’t let him finish his sentence, moving away from his cock and gazing up at him.

Damian let out a breathless chuckle, helping you up. You reached for him, and he grabbed your wrists before you could touch him.

“Damian…”

“No touching.”

You pouted, but it didn’t tug at his heartstrings as you hoped it would. Instead, his hold on your wrists tightened.

Damian kissed the corner of your mouth and you hummed, understanding he was trying to ensure you were okay with it. Once sure, he latched his lips onto your neck, letting go of your wrists to explore your body.

“Wearing pretty lingerie just for me,” he mumbled.

You hummed again, this time in confirmation, fiddling with your fingers.

He walked you toward the bed, pushing you onto the mattress. “Hands to yourself,” he reminded you, using his own to part your thighs.

“Just…”

He cut you off by pushing your panties to the side, feeling just how wet you were for him.

“Don’t tease me,” you cried out.

Damian hummed, almost condescendingly so. His fingers explored your labia, up and down as he smeared all your slick.

“Damian,” you whimpered.

“Mmhh?”

“Please.”

He didn’t answer, too busy tracing your inner labia. Midway through his teasing, he changed his mind and pulled your lace panties down your legs, slowly dragging his hands over your skin on his way.

“Please what?” he finally acknowledged.

“Anything.”

He climbed onto the bed, hovering over you, feline-like. You stared into his eyes, awaiting an indication that you would get something other than teasing. He almost smiled.

Running his cock along your folds, smearing your slick all over it, Damian told you, “I’ll stop if you touch me.”

“I won’t,” you said.

He gave you a look that told you he didn’t believe you, but he was kind enough to give you the benefit of the doubt. “Ready?”

“Yes!”

His cock pushed in with ease and he bottomed out so quickly you held out a slither of hope that he would just give you what you wanted. Things were never that easy with Damian, of course.

You had always loved the burn of his cock as he stretched you, and he had always loved knowing he was the only one who got to stretch you out in the first place. In some ways, he had molded you to him and yet this time he started with slow, teasing, strokes that had you hot in the face.

His strong hands grabbed at your sides as they often did. You slightly closed your legs, needing to feel him closer.

Damian’s hips pulled away from you only to slam back in without warning. You hummed, as if he needed any kind of encouragement. It took him a few thrusts to find a rhythm, hands coming down to your thighs as sounds of skin against skin filled your bedroom.

You ground your hips up against his, breath already uneven. You wanted to grab at him, to hold tight so he would fuck you as hard as you both know he wanted to.

He held your legs open, rolling his hips to push even deeper, driving you into the mattress. You cried out, partially in desperation.

“Let me touch you,” you shamelessly begged.

“Later.”

“I need to touch you now.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Please,” you whined, canting your hips up again although with more difficulty as his tight hold on your thighs made it easy for him to keep you in place.

Damian growled. “If you could hear yourself…”

His thrusts got rougher, hammering into you at a fast pace. His eyes were on you, and if you were anybody else you would have thought he was angry, but because you knew him well, you knew he was holding back from going too far.

He drew moans and whines from you like he was born to do that and nothing else, and a string of desperate curses when he slowed down to grind against you, hands kneading your thick thighs as he did so.

Leaning in, Damian pressed his face into your neck and let out moans against you, lips brushing your skin. One of his hands traveled up your body to reach one of your wrists, a reminder that you weren’t to touch him.

You almost cried, frustrated and so fucking close to coming that you didn’t know what to do with yourself. The more you tried to come up with some way to convince him to let you touch him, the less things made sense to you. Not only was it hard to focus with Damian fucking you like the world would end if he stopped, but you could only think, ‘Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop’ yet the only sounds that came from you were intelligible babbles and moans.

He kissed his way up from your neck to your ear. “Touch me,” he breathlessly commanded as he let go of your wrist. Your hands flew to his back, legs wrapping around his waist as he planted his hands on each side of your head. Damian propped himself up, pressing his lips to yours.

You gasped his name into his lips, digging your nails into his back. You were so unbelievably close that your entire torso was tense already, pressure coiling inside you as Damian’s cock throbbed against your clenching walls.

“Let go,” he told you softly.

Something about his tone drove you over the edge. As the tension inside you snapped and you came, he continued to thrust into your pulsing core, fucking you through your orgasm and prompting his.

Damian rested his head on your chest as he caught his breath, slipping a hand between your back and the mattress to hold you. In return, you ran your fingers through his hair.

He trailed soft kisses around the top of your breasts, sighing against your skin. “Blue looks good on you,” he said, in reference to the bra you were still wearing.

“Mhm. Knew you would like it.”

“I like everything you wear.” He shifted as he said it, hips rolling against yours.

“Wait,” you softly told him, “I’m sensitive.”

“I’m not trying to start anything,” he assured you. “We need to change your sheets.”

“Five minutes.”

Damian relented, bringing his other hand up to your face. He caressed your cheek and asked, "Did I hurt you?"

"No. Did I?"

"No."

"Let me see your wrists."

"Beloved, I am fine."

"Then let me see them."

Damian removed his hand from under your back and brought it close to your face.

There was a light burn on his wrist which you had known would happen the moment he had started wiggling. "Let's get that disinfected, yeah?"

"What about your five minutes?"

"I'm just a little sore, honey."

Damian kissed your jaw and pulled away from you. "I'll clean you up first."

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne smut #damian wayne x plus size reader

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mochinomnoms · 4 months

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Random thing, but between the boys who want to have children in the future who do you think are more open to have adopted children?

The question just came to me when randomly the thought "wait, what if Yuu doesn't want to get pregnant in the future?" came to mind

Ideally, none of them would mind. If it's what you want, then they are more than happy to provide! If we wanted to be a bit more realistic, there are a few where adopting might be an issue.

(I had to go through my brain again to remember who I think wouldn't have kids cause I couldn't find my post, but Leona, Ace, Jamil, and Idia wouldn't want kids so they aren't here. I can't remember if I had more or not on the list)

Kalim and Malleus are the first two where it would be an issue. Quite frankly, the people around them wouldn't allow it. The Asim family gives me the vibe of those who prioritize blood relations as family (if the 30+ kids didn't help with that already). Unless the kid was adopted as an infant and looked very similar to you or Kalim so that plausible deniability was possible, they couldn't risk it. Kalim is often dealing with death threats and assassination attempts just so the next member of the family can be the heir, if extended family were to find out that your kids (and thus next heir) wasn't blood related to Kalim, then there could probably be some legal issues with inheritance. Malleus, similarly, is under a tight leash with the Briar Valley's council that Lilia has been struggling to remove. I haven't seen much of Chp 7 so I'm working with very limited information mind you, but from what I can tell they are very traditional and extremely concerned with maintaining the Draconia (and the draconian part) bloodline strong. I feel that adoption to them would be out of the question with no hesitation. Neither of them I think would feel very strongly against it though: Kalim would see it as an opportunity to grow your happy family and Malleus I think would actually strongly relate, as he himself is an orphan. He'd see it as an opportunity to take after Lilia and give the love and care to a child that more than deserves it. If they really are set with adoption with you, then Malleus would have no trouble setting his foot down, he is the rightful ruler of Briar Valley and if he says that's his kid and heir, then that's his motherfucking kid bitch! Kalim I think would require that he's not only grown a sturdy backbone as an adult, but also a very ironclad will and testament. But it's not impossible, just very very difficult.

The next ones that would have some concerns about it would be Riddle, Sebek, and Ruggie. Riddle's case is a bit similar to Kalim's but not really. It's more so whether is family (specifically his mother) would accept his child being adopted. I think the fear of his kid being alienated from the family would be a lot for him, and I can't really gauge if I this Mrs. Rosehearts would be opposed to it or not, as well as whether Riddle remains in contact with her as an adult and still values her opinion as well. I think it would depend on the circumstances, sadly enough: if you were unable to have biological kids for whatever reason or if you could but would be extremely risk on your health, as a doctor I think she would understand. Sebek though I think would struggle internally a lot, he's not opposed to the idea of adoption at all, but he's so attached to his family name and his fae blood. I think knowing that he has a child that might not be accepted as a true Zigvolt for not being blood related (and potentially a human) would eat him up. He already had to deal with that himself (externally and internally, I'm not sure). But he's also been around Lilia a lot, and I think some positive reinforcement and encouragement from him would help a lot. Ruggie is very simple, adoption is so fucking expensive, man. That's a lot of fucking money, so he's willing to wait as long as needed to save up.

The rest of the cast I think wouldn't have any qualms about it, as there's no history or trauma that I think would affect their decision. I think Trey, Deuce, Azul, Jade, Jack, Rook, and Silver are the most eager to have a family, while Cater, Vil, Epel and Lila are okay not having any if you don't want any either. I think Floyd would greatly depend, as much as I love him, massive mood swings are not great for raising children so he'd need a lot of maturing to do, if he even wants kids (he keeps changing his mind about it, some days he's in love with the idea, other days he's pretty indifferent) but he wouldn't mind having kids with you. Silver would obviously love the idea, he's had a great experience and father, he'd want to pass that experience along to his own kid. So if adopting is an option, then why not! If it's what you want (and they think raising a baby with you is something they'd like to do) then who are they to oppose? They'll love that kid from the moment their eyes meet, as much as they love you!

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shallyouobeyme · 11 months

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Castle

Platonic!Yandere Vampire ErasterMic!Family x Toddler!Reader (GN)

Summary: Upon a hill over a small town stands a castle. It's vampiric inhabitants get a sacrifice every generation, but one year, they find a little child bundled up in a blanket at their door.

! Minors Do Not Interact !

TW: Sacrificing a child (you), mention of mugging, fighting, attacks, murder + torture (not descriptive and not towards reader), vampires, being turned into a vampire, illness, dark content, I do not condone this - this is all just fantasy

There was a custom in a small town lying in the valley under a hill which adorned the horizon along with the great castle standing on top of it unshakable, permanent, unaging - just like its inhabitants. There were legends going through generations of people living in the castle's shadow. According to them, the castle housed four very specific, mythical creatures. A man of shadows who could only be seen in the night and whose sight was said to be linked with an imminent death. A banshee who could act like a siren and lure you in, only to them scream with the voices of all the souls who have lost their lives because of him. An undead boy who could make you see things, hear things, do things, which would shake any living thing to their core. And at the last, a girl pale as a sheet, with hair white as snow - a ghost, said to be one of their former victims (according to some even their first), who was hunting the castle to warn others who'd share her fate and remind the creatures who had caused her death of their rotten soul.

Along with the legends and myths, the custom developed as well - it came from a place of fear and dread, from a time when deaths rid the town of most of its people and the only cause they could discern was that they had attracted the anger of their mythical watchers - and now it was common practice for every generation to chose a sacrifice to bring to the gates of the castle to gratify the rage of it's owners. Usually, it would be one of the elderly who volunteered themselves, knowing that they had not long to live and wanting to see what all the legends were about at least once in their life. Because except for the sacrificial rite no one was allowed to climb the hill to the castle.

By the time the most unusual and determinative sacrifice happened, the medics of the town had realized that the deaths they had in the past blamed on the creatures were caused by natural reasons - most crucial, the plague. But still, the custom stayed, because why would they change the habit that had kept the townspeople safe for all these years? There was just one thing that was different by that time - it had probably been the result of more health and people having fewer children - but for the first time in generations, there were no elderly who were close to dying, all the elderly who were around were still healthy and fit. And so, one family offered to make the ultimate sacrifice, as they had a young child of only a few years of age who they'd be bringing to the gates. The child was old enough to walk and talk, but not old enough to understand what was happening. And furthermore, the child was ill and sickly. They had been born with their ailment and the doctors saw no possibility of betterment, giving them only a few more years of life before the ailment would take them.

And so it was decided for the best all to lose their child in exchange for the happiness of all the other children they would have and that were living around them. On the night of the summer solstice, their parents put the child into warm clothes and carry their sleeping form up the hill. They knew that the least they needed to do was bring them away together and spend their last moments on this earth as a family. When they arrived at the gate, they rolled their child in a blanket and laid her down in front of it, before the father took the mother's hand and used the knocker that would never work from that distance at any other house. The parents gave their child one last kiss and then solemnly made their way back down the hill to their lives.

On the opposite side of the gate were a family at dinner - or at least as similar to dinner as it was possible for this family. They were sitting around a table with chalices before them, filled with dark, red, liquid that some might assume to be wine. It was not. The family had been living in the castle for centuries. And it was not the fathers and mothers of the people living in it now, no, it had been the exact same people as were sitting around the table now, unchanged like the building they were living in. Unlike what the townspeople assumed, the family of vampires had no interest in ending the lives of the people below them, they had long since switched to an animal-based diet. Still, they also had no interest in stopping their little habit of sacrifices, because it kept them unbothered, and kept the people of the town just afraid enough to not dare enter their homes. And since the sacrificial humans were usually already smelling of death, they had no issue putting them out of their misery - giving the old humans the happiness of letting them know what they had been wondering about for their entire lives.

As the family was talking about the latest news and interests that had been going on in their very exclusive, very secretive society of vampiric creatures spread around the entire world, Aizawa looked out of the window and sighed. He wondered about how fast the last 25 years had passed, but stood up and went out to the gate nonetheless. He wondered a little bit about the unusual breathing and heartbeat pattern heard coming from the human. It had been centuries since he had bothered with visiting or listening to other humans so while his ears were as good as ever, he had some difficulties distinguishing between the differences in them just based on their sounds and smells. So he assumed that this human was just weaker than usual.

All this led to all the more of a surprise when he opened the gate and found not an elderly human looking to find their end for the greater good, but instead a little bundled-up child. You - looking slightly younger than their own daughter had been when she was turned by a nefarious vampire looking to extend their clan - looked so weak, so frail, and as Aizawa looked at you, for the first time in centuries he was reminded of his own time as a mortal. Back then he and Yamada had to hide their love, their romance forbidden for multiple reasons. Not only were they both men, no they were also part of opposite sides of a war, though on the nights when they both sneaked away to spend their time embraced without having to worry about the rest of the world, they spent their time dreaming of having a life together, living without fear and most importantly, taking care of a little life of their own. A child. And when they had been turned, that dream had been mostly fulfilled.

Now they were powerful enough to live without fear together and a few decades later they stumbled upon a dying boy - a mugger who had stolen from them earlier, but as they hunted him down to get their stuff back they found him giving away the stolen goods to the children living in the street without a way to make their own way of survival. When he had also thrown himself in the way of a fight that had escalated and an attack meant for Yamada, it had been clear to them they could not leave him to die. And so they turned him and gained their son. And while they loved him as if he was their own - he was in a sense, the bond forged by turning someone almost as strong as the bond of blood mortals had - he had still already been a young adult when they had 'adopted' him.

Their gaining Eri for their family had been similar. She had already been a vampire for years when they had saved her and while she still looked the part of a young child, she had already been mindful and conscious of things a child would never be, she was a teenager or even an adult trapped in the body of a child.

So when Aizawa looked down at you, he saw this dream of theirs, the dream of raising a child of their own, and he saw the possibility of that now happening. When he brought you back in it was safe to say that his idea was taken in with a lot of enthusiasm, Yamada taking you out of Aizawa's arms and cuddling you close to him - so very happy to have a little you like you so close to him. Oh, how adorable you were, how precious - it was like he finally found what he was waiting for all of his immortal life. Eri was over the moon as well, stating that she had always wanted to be a big sister, that she'd do her best to make sure you'd grow up safe and surrounded by love, and that she wouldn't let anything harm you.

Shinsou was the one who stated something that the rest of the family had forgotten to think about through their joy. Someone had sacrificed you to them, had left you to what they thought to be a soon and possibly painful death. Shinsou's eyes were filled with rage, infectious rage and bloodlust that he hadn't felt since he'd been turned first, as he thought about how someone could leave such a little, weak thing as you to your death knowingly. And so, you were left with Yamada who was not quite ready to let go of you yet, and Eri who insisted on you getting a room near hers (even though you'd spent your next years sleeping in your new parent's bed) and to be there when you awoke to keep you calm in your new surrounded.

While they were already planning your new life, Aizawa and Shinsou made their way down that hill for the first time in a long while, with fire and fury in their steps, knowing that they'd leave no one alive - all of the townspeople at fault for letting you be sacrificed in their eyes. They had only had you with them for less than a day, but one look at you cuddling into Aizawa and Yamadas was enough to have them put you into their hearts and they'd bring hell before letting you go again. So no matter if young or old, male or female or in between, sick or healthy, every single mortal in that town paid their due that day, most of all your own parents whom they recognized by their smell and made suffer for as long as they could before they felt like they needed to see you again to make sure you were doing okay and ended your families misery.

It was clear that your life would be very different from now on, you would be coddled and loved, spoiled and protected. You were still so young that you didn't really worry about the fact that there were these strange people calling themselves your daddies and siblings for longer than a month or two, after that, you accepted your new situation. You enjoyed the attention, loved playing with Eri, dressing up with Yamada, taking naps with Aizawa and getting told stories by Shinsou. Your new life was happy and joyful and you didn't even notice how protective and obsessive your new family was. Leaving the castle wasn't an option anymore - which you didn't worry about too much given how big the castle felt to you - and neither was being alone. There was always one of them with you unless you were sleeping, and even then someone was close to you, close enough to race to you when they heard the difference in breathing patterns of you waking up.

Upon multiple protective measures, it was Shinsou who took it into his hands to tell you stories that made you scared of being alone and leaving the safety of your home - it hurt him to see you so scared, but the feeling of having you run into his arms for comfort when you were afraid of a shadow outside of the window, made it all worth it. Only once you started seeing evil in anything outside and started fearing things around you once you were alone did he tone it down a bit, knowing that he would not have to worry about you leaving them for the time being. His parents had claimed that it wasn't necessary since someone was with you at all times, but they didn't intervene when he started so he assumed they were fine with it.

Aizawa and Yamada loved having your young innocent around them, it reminded them that there was still goodness left in the world, but they still decided that they would not turn you until you were old enough to agree to it. They couldn't promise that they'd listen to you even if you didn't agree - already knowing that they could never let you go - but they at least wanted you to have the opportunity to feel like you made the choice on your own.

Of course, there was still your illness. Your family had many connections in the world thanks to their community of vampiric friends so they had access to the top medication and the best doctors and you got all of that. Everything to make sure you were as healthy as possible and relieved of any pain. The only thing that might change the way they had decided your turning would go would be if your condition worsened if there was no chance of healing anymore. Then, turning you would be an immediate reaction. And who knows, maybe them having you being their little toddler for the rest of eternity - never growing and being coddled by them to make sure you stay as innocent as you are now - was the best thing that could happen to you since they had found you at their gate.

N/A: Thank you to @dumpster-dive-reading for the inspiration behind this and thank you all for reading this. If you enjoyed it I'd love to read your thoughts. Tomorrow's entry for Yandere Writetober is going to be 'dagger' and let's just say while I'm not sure yet, I have a very mischievous character in mind for this. See you then ❤️

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wouldtheybecomeafearavatar · 7 months

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What are Avatars and Entities Anyway?

Since there's been some questioning from the non-TMA side of fandoms, here are the basic definitions of Avatars, Fear Entities, and each specific one.

There are 15 Fear Entities in The Magnus Archive (Podcast). They are supernatural beings that feed on fear of specific kind. The division is a little arbitrary and there are overlaps between them, but this is the system used in the universe, so we are going with it!

Each has Avatars, manifestations and artefacts that cause that fear in living beings (yes, not only humans, if very heavily humans). Artefacts are just that, objects that cause creepy and supernatural things to happen. Manifestations are living counterparts to artefacts that were never anything but. We are not concerned with them.

Avatars are people who used to be human, but through choice of circumstance came to represent, serve, and/or cause specific type of fear. The choice needs to be there, but not necessarily be informed or enthusiastic.

Each of the Fears has obvious interpretations associated with them, but often cover metaphorical fears too. And, some fears can be a part of multiple. (eg. the fear of insignificance can be an element of The Vast, or the Lonely)

The Buried. The fear of small, enclosed spaces, of suffocation, and being trapped. Often associated with drowning, being buried alive, being overwhelmed.

The Corruption. The fear of corruption, disease, and disgust. Often associated with insects, decay, illness, and unhealthy love.

The Dark. The fear of being unable to see, of unseen, of the dark itself. Often associated with literal dark spaces, blindness, hiding monsters, and unknown.

The Desolation. The fear of pain and loss, destruction, and senseless devastation. Often associated with fire, war*, and destroyed potential.

The End. The fear of death - most straightforward of them all. Often associated with remains and undead creatures.

The Extinction. The fear of a large scale catastrophe, death, replacement. Often associated with alarmist rhetoric and of destruction of humankind by our own hands. But, it does not has to be a complete destruction of an entire species. (eg. A disappearing culture can fall under extinction too. Or an apocalyptic, but not barren future.)

The Eye. A fear of being watched, known, and exposed. Often associated with curiosity, stalking, and surveillance.

The Flesh. The fear of being seen as meat, of realisation that you are meat, of your flesh being wrong. Often associated with animals, with the meat-packing industry, and with body dysmorphia and dysphoria.

The Hunt. The fear of being chased and hunted. Often associated with instincts, animals, and monsters.

The Lonely. The fear of isolation, abandonment, and disconnection. Often associated with fog, empty spaces, (faceless) crowds*, and suburbs.

The Slaughter. The fear of senseless violence and pain; unlike the Desolation is concerned directly with the living, not objects or possibility. Often associated with murder, and war*.

The Spiral. The fear of one's own mind, of madness, and of deception. Often associated with fractals, illusions, and neurodiversity of all kinds.

The Stranger. The fear of unfamiliar and uncanny. Often associated with uncanny valley (dolls, mannequins, taxidermy), circuses and performances, and faceless crowds*.

The Vast. The fear of space and insignificance. Often associated with heights, large open spaces (ocean, sky, space), and losing oneself*.

The Web. The fear of being manipulated, controlled, and trapped*, of having no free will. Often associated with spiders and puppets*.

*might be a part of multiple Fears depending on circumstances

#tma #the magnus archives #archivist activity

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ballad-of-the-lamb · 7 months

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I've been bingeing your art in this blog for, like, the last hour. Sooo much good stuff!

Can we hear more about notable members of the Cult? Cheese Parm's s/o and such

cult info below cut b/c i'm gonna be typing a lot;

Everyone listed here are basically the main runners/cast when it comes to plot relevance in the story in itself. there are plenty of cast & characters that aren't- but they wont pop up for anything other than background characters perhaps staring on in horror at god antics or one another's antics.

we'll start from the top;

GALLOWS [ girlyed cheese ]

the most recent member of the cult to be saved specifically by the lamb themself from sacrifice within Darkwood.

a lot of cult conflict will begin with the uninitiated, the unknowing. and the influence of the twin gods will be seen on her in real time as the story progresses.

she is generally a very generic playful-but-tricky fox character, but there's a lot she hides; much like the rest of the cult members. her past is not happily talked about, or seldom is.

she was a native to Darkwood. She is chaotic because of it.

she was meant to be burned at the stake.

EKPYROSIS [ asbestos ]

This word derives from a Greek word for a great fire. It represents a belief held by some scholars of Stoicism, that says that the universe has no beginning or end, and instead is destroyed and remade in a great conflagration in a cyclic manner. Just as life & death ever are.

Her name stands out among the rest of the cult because it was the name that the Lamb bestowed upon her upon being given the title of disciple. Just as Narinder took Baal & Aym to learn from him, the Lamb took her.

Her previous name is not known to anyone mind the Lamb themself, Narinder, and cheese parm.

She is more inclined to using and being influenced by the eldritch artifacts & relics the Lamb or Narinder tend to return with.

She leaves an uneasy and terrible 'uncanny valley' feeling tenfold within her vicinity, which makes her hard to be around. It is not just being outright creepy- but it's a lot more akin to literally feeling reality dip and bow around you into something not quite right.

She does not move like a normal person. The way she walks, runs, jumps- it's all too impossible to replicate without someone shattering every bone in their body.

When she speaks, her voice is delayed from her mouth. And it doesn't always line up perfectly.

most notably; cheese parm hates her. for good reason.

OTHERA [ bong water ]

An average cult member on the surface. They are a caretaker, they are matronly, they work as the local therapist. Generally just likes taking care of people.

When the Lamb, Disciples, & Narinder aren't around to listen to confessionals in the booth they are typically who does.

It's an unspoken rule to not make them angry or let them get to '1' when they start counting down from 5.

He is typically known for the reason morale is good. A good shoulder to rely on.

He is the third oldest member of the cult, resurrected multiple times over to serve his purpose, next to cheese parm & his sister. they are also the only one that asbestos seems to actively fear besides cheese parm.

EUNOMIA [ they/theminem ]

Eunomia was a minor goddess of law and legislation, whose name means "Good Laws", and is specifically a goddess of order according to good governance.

The second disciple. Known for learning the use of the Lamb's personally created curses specifically, though does know the ones Narinder passed on. They do not deem themselves worthy enough to use those.

Generally a very angry & spiteful person for a multitude of reasons. It mostly comes down to 'bearer of the curse' and the curse being knowledge.

They are the only one really permitted to 'backtalk' due to how much they actually do know their place.

they are very heavily disciplined under the rule of self-flagellation, and know the tenants and rites better than anyone else in the cult. even the head ritualist.

as said on paper. cheese parm's s/o. the significantly scarier one. they have not had a reason to be scary in a good couple hundred years! don't make them start now.

has 2 adopted kids w/ cheese parm they raise.

PANKRATIAST [ cheese parm ]

The Pankration is a sport of unarmed combat that featured in the ancient Olympic Games in Greece. This specific association fits as he's specifically an unarmed fighter first and foremost.

While not a disciple, is considered one generally in 'importance' to the higher ups of the cult. While he is no more important than Gallows, Othera, Minced Meat, or any other average member- he has the veteran's respect.

Was given a name by the Lamb, and since he does not speak, it's not like he can correct anyone otherwise.

well. doesn't talk. only ever communicates in vague grunts and noises that voice displeasure or a neutral 'ok'

Generally considered stoic, he does not feel strongly about most things.

The village executioner. The head missionary. Bartender. Does all the jobs no one else wants to do, and even others when no one else does it.

Smells of gore & wet dog constantly.

Knows. Remembers. Knows why death is broken, knows how it broke, will not tell Lamb or Narinder. He is a Witness.

Knows all the weaponry the Lamb uses & can use it just as effectively on a physical level.

The first of the flock. Will be there even when there is no more flock to have. As it will ever be, pinkie promised back in the Silk Cradle back where he was first found.

ILONA [ taco bell qsdea ]

a specialist in alchemy, cooking, & plants. Tends to the farms, gardens, & warding stones.

The first of the cult members Narinder warmed up to directly after descension. They brought him food every day, they gave him supplies, and other than the Lamb- they were the first to not be terrified of him.

They are very blind and often need a guide when they are not allowed to use their clicks and noises to find the way.

They are immune to Gallows' tricks and run off of the 'fae logic' of most things.

Their name means 'joy'. A name they decided on after speaking to Narinder for a time.

The first cult members recruited directly after Narinder's descension.

Immune to the horrors Somehow. There is something hiding behind those big ol eyes

Can fly. They have wings attached to their arms, and for it, require special clothes.

will be involved a lot in narinder plots

MINCED MEAT [ childbirth gambino ]

head cook but kind of as a threat. the lamb put them there for a reason. they are pretty mid.

constantly paranoid and in a state of fear or unease. Does not sleep because of it, and instead compulsively cooks almost all day and night.

most random screeches or noises in the cult come from this little guy

absolutely scared shitless of the Lamb.

The first Dissenter since the Lamb's ascension. They were made an example of. Now they will never. They have seen god's wrath, and would rather die.

narinder likes to bully this thing by hissing at him in the night

attached to beansnesed'd bsbisebies hip when in the chapel or out and about.

the prime example of 'the lamb is not a good person.'

ALOPE [ deep dish pizza ]

cheese parm's little sister. and borderline clone. she copies everything he's done up until adulthood when she started to become her own person. though it's been hundreds, if not thousands of years, she's still trying to figure out who she is.

made a pinkie promise to the lamb, just like cheese parm, to always be there. and she has!

ripped as fuck. like, more than cheese parm. huge. absolute beast thing.

the lamb prevented a fated death in her, the first time he ever did so, and for it her title is technically 'Saint Alope' within the cult for being the act of a miracle.

like her brother, never speaks vocally, never shows her face. gets across feelings through vague grunts. uses sign language where cheese parm does not.

the fastest in the cult. rivals narinder in base speed without using necklaces or unnatural abilities.

uses two ritual dirks or daggers at any given point, throwing knives, things of that sort. protects the village next to cheese parm, and you'll never hear her coming. totally, absolutely silent.

#cult lore #cotl oc #i also have a guy names lady gagita but you guys will have to meet them through the plot eventually they're a bit too sppoillery #edit: added my cheese parm playlist

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veryberryjelly · 1 year

Note

ok maybeeee 3 and 4 from the prompt list for poly!moonhawk

(also if you want me to resend this as a celebration request i totally will and also i can and will send more if that won’t be overwhelming, i just love this idea so much)

𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

i am for real so excited to write for this pairing !!

i got very carried away

3- hesitantly tugging the other's fabric of their shirt or sleeve

4- ^^ the other notices so they pull them into a hug, smiling as they just watch them melt

while you had never been much of a fan of karate, you knew this was something you could not miss.

your boyfriends dojo was competing in the all valley tournament and you and your girlfriend were sat amongst the rivalling dojo's families almost on the edge of your seat.

while moon had assured you a number of times that everything was going to be fine, it didnt stop your nerves.

you knew hawk could handle himself, but that didnt lessen the fear of him getting seriously injured.

one wrong move and he could break something major.

it was different when you stopped by the dojo to see him training, because while part of the motto of cobra kai was ' no mercy ' no one in there was set out to truly hurt their friends.

he could get truly hurt out here.

you had shared your concerns with moon last night while hawk was doing some last minute training.

laying on her bed doing nothing in particular apart from chatting with some music in the background with her head rested in your lap.

your're not sure how you ended up sitting like it but you weren't complaining.

' hawk's going to be okay tomorrow, right? i mean- i know he does this practically every day, but it's different. these people aren't his friends, they aren't going to pull their punches. '

while you talked you felt moons hand lift to thread her fingers through yours, pulling them to her chest and pressing a short kiss onto them.

' he's going to be fine. he knows what he's doing. they're not going to pull their punches but there's referees so it's safer than a street fight. '

her words went quite a long way to comfort you as this was going to be your first time watching hawk compete while moon had seen him before.

you could trust her words.

but it didnt completely squash the nerves in the pit of your stomach.

even when hawk returned from training and told you himself that he was going to be fine.

the three of you stayed at moons overnight with the plan to drive to the tournament tomorrow morning.

and that's exactly what you all did.

after arriving at the tournament, hawk went off to join his dojo after both you and moon wished him luck and told him to kick ass.

the two of you had been sat on the benches of there venue waiting for cobra kai to compete.

more specifically, waiting for hawk to step up to the mat.

when you heard his name called you could feel moon stiffen beside you and you had the exact same reaction, your hand reaching out to grasp onto hers.

the guy he was up against was big. he looked to be about 160 pounds of pure muscle with at least 8 inches on hawk including his hair.

" oh god " you muttered under your breath, watching as both contenders bowed to eachother before assuming their first fighting position.

it was as though you blacked out until the referee called the fight, announcing hawk as the winner, even if his bloodied nose said otherwise.

it was your first time seeing him fight outside of practising at the dojo and he was very good.

with every fight it got easier to watch, until you were actually enjoying seeing him do something he loved.

until the semi finals.

you and moon were both up on your feet at this point, partially out of nerves and just needing to stand up, and partially so he knew that you two were rooting for him all the way up there.

your excitement and joy was wiped away when a swift kick to the face sent hawk flying to the floor.

you waited for him to get up like he had been doing all day, but he didn't.

his opponent was announced the winner of the match and hawk lay still on the floor.

you suddenly remembered why you were so scared.

it took a minute for him to get up, and even when he finally did he was stumbling quite a bit.

there wasnt even a discussion between you and moon before you collected your things and stood from the stands to go and find him where he was inevitably receiving a little bit of medical attention.

in the back hallways of the venue it was almost silent apart from the echo from the main area where the fights were still commencing.

the thing that gave away where he was was a pair of voices from behind a door.

moon was first through to push through the door, with yourself close in tow.

you found what you expected, a medic sat infront of hawk performing tests to ensure he didnt have a concussion and issuing bandaids, tissues and an ice pack for the inevitable headache .

when she noticed the two other girls in the room she was quick to respond

" you two can't be back here "

" it's okay," hawk interrupted, his eyes landing on the two of you. " they're my girlfriends "

" you're girlfriend can stay but you can't both be back here " you assumed the medic thought he was just a bit confused from the head trauma.

" no, we're both his girlfriend " you corrected, knowing it was hard to grasp for some people. while you tried to be kind it was very hard to be right now when you could see blood pouring out of your boyfriends nose.

" oh- how modern...i'll leave you three to it then " she muttered out, leaving behind two advil for hawk along with a bottle of water before she scuttled out of the room while a soft smile rested on all of your faces.

that was always fun.

once the three of you were alone, all forms of restraint you usually held went out the window.

" are you okay? that looked like a nasty kick " you questioned, taking the ice pack from his hand to hold against his head, his hand dropping down to rest on your leg.

" i'm fine. just some bruises and a very mild concussion " he muttered somewhat angrily.

a concussion meant he couldnt train for a couple of days.

" you have a concussion and you think you're fine ?" moon questioned, her voice rising in volume slightly as she delicately wiped at the blood under his nose with her thumb.

" yes, because i am fine. " he assured her even if neither of you were believing it.

the look you exchanged with moon was enough to communicate an entire conversation without saying anything.

that short conversation between the three of you was enough for you to know that hawk was more than disappointed he had not only lost, but had ended up with an injury other than a bruise.

so you posed a question to him

" d'you want to stay or we can get out of here before everyone else ?"

there were a few moments before he answered.

" let's get out of here. " his reply set a minuscule smile onto your lips and moons.

" i'll go grab the car and i'll meet you out front " moon said simply, picking up her bag and pressing a short kiss onto both of your lips before walking out to get the car.

" you okay ?" you asked in a volume just above a whisper.

he nodded mildly, his eyes meeting yours.

" yeah, just gotta get out of here " he replied, standing from the bench you were sat on and reaching into his bag to grab a sweater to throw on over his slightly bloodied gi.

once he collected his things, the two of you walked down the hallway towards the front of the building where moon would soon be pulling up with the car.

while you waited leant against the wall of the building, you decided to fill the silence, fiddling slightly with the edge of his sweater sleeve as it hung around his wrist.

" you were amazing today. i've never seen you fight like that before...was pretty hot "

you couldnt even keep a straight face while saying that, a slight smirk edging it's way onto your lips as you met his gaze.

" yeah, " he started, lifting his arm to drape over your shoulders and pull you further into his side. " pretty hot seeing me kick some ass ?" he muttered quietly, a soft laugh edging on his tone

" yeah, not so much watching you get your ass kicked, but for the most part " you teased, your smile almost breaking past the boundaries of your face.

you weren't surprised when that comment earned you a pinch at your waist.

a car horn scared the shit out of you, causing you to almost jump out of hawk's grasp.

it was only when you heard your girlfriends signature laugh that your heart rate started returning to normal

" sorry, didn't mean to scare you guys " while that statement was definitely false, you couldnt bring yourself to care.

after climbing into the car, moon drove you to her place seeing as her parents weren't home until tomorrow and the three of you could spend the night again.

your evening was spent sprawled out across a set of soft sheets with moon's laptop playing an old movie while the three of you went between watching it, chatting in hushed tones and sharing very soft kisses.

it was as if hawk never even lost.

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dragonairice · 8 months

Text

Going insane because Scratch took so long to remember Adia since the only things he could tie back to her were her room and strawberry soda and there was nothing else in his life worth remembering; but it would be so easy to remember the McGees and the rest of his family. He could watch fins of fear, he could eat Thai food, he could hear slam poetry, he could see Country Pumpkin 3, he could find the Ghost Chaser Chens on MeTube, he could pull a prank, he could see a magic show, he could listen to Atomic Pink, he could paint, he could play smile valley farm, heck, he could even eat specific foods like latkes and maybe remember them!

Because even if they thought he was dead, the McGees taught Scratch how to live and I'm so not normal about it <3

#Hi yes I'm still going insane I loved that ending <3 #TGAMM #the ghost and molly mcgee #Scratch McGee #TGAMM spoilers #The Ghost and Molly McGee spoilers

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quinzzelx · 5 months

Text

Don't Go

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel thought he knew what pain was. But faced with the consequences of battle, he shatters.

Word Count: 4.8K

Warnings: Heart-shattering angst. I'm sorry, this does not have a happy ending. Death. I need to still proofread this!

A/N: One of my favorite Band's songs, one that I hold very dear to my heart, is called "Don't Go"... Let's just say, this song expresses the feelings of this perfectly. If you are interested in an alternate ending, one with a happy one, let me know.

☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆

I was raised in the valley There was shadows and death Got out alive but with scars I can't forget

You never imagined that drowning could be so tranquil. Drifting, falling, floating deeper into the abyss, your once-alert eyes now glazed over with a distant emptiness. The shimmering surface of the moon above reflected in the water, casting a serene glow upon the scene. Despite the turmoil raging within you, the water remained calm, almost comforting as it enveloped you.

With each passing moment, consciousness slipped further away, your limbs heavy and unresponsive. The light above grew dimmer, more distant, as you descended into the depths. A sharp pang in your chest served as a grim reminder of impending death, your lungs screaming for air that was nowhere to be found. The burning agony of suffocation clawed at your throat, the water filling your lungs with each desperate gasp.

This was the end. At the age of 347, a mere blink in the lifespan of a Fae, you faced your demise. While humans might find such longevity unfathomable, for your kind, it was but a fraction of existence. Yet, as the final bubbles of air escaped your lips and rose toward the surface, a sense of peace washed over you. Despite the fear that once gripped your heart, in this moment, all was calm.

Your death would not be in vain. You had fought until the very end. And now, as you surrendered to the depths of the lake, you found solace in the embrace of the water, welcoming you home. Your vision blurred, the edges of your consciousness fading as you struggled to stay afloat. Every movement sent waves of agony rippling through your body, your broken bones protesting with searing pain. Despite your efforts, the darkness continued to close in, suffocating you with its crushing weight.

But then, a sensation unlike any other tore through you, a visceral reaction that seized your heart in a vice-like grip. Panic surged through your veins, amplified by the frantic beating of your heart. It was as if every fiber of your being screamed out in terror, a primal instinct that screamed for survival.

Ears ringing and throbbing with agony, you felt a sharp, stabbing pain shoot through your skull as your eardrums burst under the immense pressure. The pain was excruciating, a relentless assault on the last bit of strength you held onto.

An orphan and a brother and unseen by most eyes I don't know what it was that made a piece of him die Took a boy to the forest Slaughtered him with a scythe Stamped on his face An impression in the dirt Do you think the silence Makes a good man convert?

In the tumultuous landscape of the Illyrian Mountains, whispers of dissent had been stirring for years. Cassian's hunch had sparked a relentless pursuit of the rebels, their motives driven by a desire to reclaim power and revert to antiquated traditions. Their disdain for the new order, especially Rhysand's leadership, fueled their rebellion.

Months of meticulous investigation led Azriel to their hidden stronghold, nestled deep within the rugged terrain. The plan was in motion: pairs deployed, each with a specific mission. Cassian and Feyre, Rhysand and Mor, Nesta and Azriel, and you with Gwyn and Emerie tasked with liberating the captive females.

Amidst the chaos of battle, Azriel wielded Truthteller with lethal precision, dispatching adversaries with practiced ease. Yet, his focus fractured when Emerie and Gwyn rushed to his side, your absence glaringly apparent. Dread coiled in his gut as Gwyn's wide-eyed gaze met his. It was then that Azriel noticed your absence, a sinking feeling gnawing at his gut. "Where is she?" His voice was tight with worry, urgency lacing his words. Her response only fueled his anxiety. "There was a group of about ten. She's our best fighter, and she insisted we go for help." Azriel's instinctive reaction was to scowl at Gwyn's decision to leave you behind, but he knew you were capable. Still, the thought of you facing such odds alone churned his stomach. So many of them? Fuck, he had to find you. A glance at Nesta was enough as she immediately nodded. "Find her." With a silent nod, Azriel launched himself into the sky, his wings slicing through the air with a fierce determination. The urgency of his mission spurred him onward, each powerful beat bringing him closer to the treeline that marked the edge of the battlefield.

It was only recently, during your parting, that the bond between you had awakened with startling clarity. The sensation pulsed within him, a potent reminder of your connection. How had he overlooked it for so long? The question gnawed at him as he scanned the landscape below, every hut, every tent, every clearing scrutinized for any sign of you.

As he neared the cliffside, a gust of wind carried the pungent scent of blood, assaulting his senses with brutal force. Panic seized him, his chest constricting with a primal fear as he descended closer to the source of the chaos. Then, amidst the carnage, he felt it—a flicker of your presence, fragile yet unmistakable.

We all have our horrors And our demons to fight But how can I win when I'm paralyzed? They crawl up on my bed Wrap their fingers round my throat Is this what I get for The choices that I made?

Landing with a staggering thud, Azriel stumbled forward, his chest heaving as he fought to quell the rising panic. Ears ringing, he scanned the scene before him, desperate for any sign of you amidst the chaos of battle. The sight of severed limbs and pools of blood sent a shiver down his spine, his heart hammering with dread. The battlefield was a scene of utter devastation, a macabre tableau of violence and chaos. Bodies littered the ground, their limbs twisted at unnatural angles, pools of blood mingling with the churned earth. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid scent of sweat and fear.

A sudden sound to his right shattered the eerie silence, drawing Azriel's attention like a predator honing in on its prey. His eyes narrowed, scanning the landscape until they landed on a figure slumped against a tree stump. The Illyrian's battered form was a testament to the brutality of the conflict, bruises marring his face, blood staining his clothes. As Azriel approached, his shadows coiled around him like vengeful serpents, an ominous aura of danger emanating from his every movement. His broad shoulders were squared, his stare intense and unwavering, like the embodiment of death itself stalking through the battlefield.

The Illyrian male flinched as Azriel loomed over him, a towering figure of wrath and retribution. With a swift motion, Azriel snatched him by the collar, yanking him up and pressing him against the tree with a force that left no room for defiance. "Where is she?" Azriel's voice was a low, menacing growl, barely contained fury simmering beneath the surface. The Illyrian snarled in response, his bruised and bloodied face contorted with defiance. He spat into Azriel's face, a vile mixture of blood and saliva, his defiance fueling the flames of Azriel's rage. "I won't tell you a gods damn thing, Bastard," he spat, his voice dripping with venom.

Azriel's fury intensified as he tightened his grip, bones cracking and snapping under his relentless grasp, the Illyrian's defiant sneer faltering as pain seared through him. "Tell me where she is," Azriel growled, his voice a dangerous rumble that reverberated through the air like a thunderclap, echoing the storm raging within him.

The Illyrian's lips curled into a twisted grin, his defiance unyielding even in the face of Azriel's wrath. "Your whore? We took care of her," he taunted, his voice laced with malice as he sought to goad Azriel further. Azriel's gaze darkened, a storm of fury brewing behind his eyes as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against the Illyrian's face. With a swift motion, he slammed him against the tree once more, the force of the impact jarring his senses. "You will regret those words," Azriel growled, his voice dripping with icy venom. In an instant, Azriel's shadows surged forward, wrapping around the Illyrian's limbs like vengeful tendrils, constricting and squeezing with crushing force. The Illyrian's defiant grin faltered, replaced by a look of sheer terror as he struggled against the suffocating darkness. Azriel's grip tightened, his fingers digging into the Illyrian's flesh as he leaned in closer, his voice a low, menacing whisper. "You will tell me everything," he snarled, his words a promise of retribution as he unleashed the full extent of his wrath upon the helpless captive.

Azriel's gaze hardened, his patience wearing thin as he pressed the Illyrian harder against the tree. "You will tell me," he insisted, his voice a deadly whisper. "Or I will make you wish you had."

With a defiant glare, the Illyrian spat back, "You can't scare me, Shadowsinger. I'd rather die than betray my comrades."

Azriel's jaw clenched, his fury simmering just beneath the surface as he stared down at the defiant captive. "So be it," he growled, his voice cold and unforgiving. "But know this, your death will be swift compared to the torment I will unleash upon those who have harmed her."

With a final, chilling glare, Azriel released his grip, allowing the Illyrian to crumple to the ground in a heap. Azriel's heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing like thunder in his ears as he stumbled forward, the weight of the bond pressing down on him like a suffocating shroud. Desperation clawed at him as he scanned the surroundings, his senses straining to pick up any sign of your presence.

God forgive me for all my sins God forgive me for everything God forgive me for all my sins God forgive me God forgive me

As he reached the edge of the cliff, overlooking the vast expanse of the lake, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of Azriel's stomach. Where were you? His mind raced, frantically trying to piece together the puzzle of your disappearance. And then it hit him, a searing pain shooting through his head as the bond between you wavered and dimmed. Gasping for breath, he clutched at his chest, his vision swimming with panic and fear. He couldn't lose you, not like this.

Azriel's mind reeled as the realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. You were dying, and he had only just discovered that you were his mate. The weight of the revelation bore down on him, suffocating him with a sense of dread and urgency. With a fierce determination, he forced himself to focus, pushing aside the overwhelming surge of panic threatening to consume him. He cursed himself for not recognizing your distress sooner, for failing to protect you when you needed him most.

The sensation of suffocation intensified, the air growing thick and heavy around him. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't bear the thought of losing you. Then it hit him like a physical blow, his eyes widening in horror as the truth dawned on him. "No," he whispered hoarsely, his voice trembling with fear and desperation. In an instant, he was on his feet, his movements fueled by a primal instinct to save you at any cost. The chaos unfolding at the cliffside suddenly made sense, and he knew what he had to do.

With lightning speed, he leapt into the depths below, his senses on high alert as he scanned the eerie still surface of the lake. Every fiber of his being screamed for you, a silent plea echoing in the depths of his soul. No, no, no. He couldn't lose you. Not now. Not ever.

Don't go I can't do this on my own Don't go I can't do this on my own Save me from the ones That haunt me in the night I can't live with myself So stay with me tonight Don't go

Frantically, Azriel swept over the vast expanse of the lake, his heart pounding in his chest with each beat of his wings. The enormity of the task ahead overwhelmed him, but he refused to succumb to despair. With each passing moment, the silence from the other side of the bond grew louder, echoing in his mind like a haunting refrain.

"Please," he pleaded silently, his thoughts a desperate mantra as he called out your name into the void. "Hold on, just a little longer." He tugged at the fragile thread of the bond, hoping for some sign of life, some glimmer of reassurance. But there was only emptiness, a faint flicker that threatened to snuff out entirely.

Then, like a beacon in the darkness, a glimmer of light caught his attention, reflecting off the surface of the water below. It was a small ray of hope amidst the vast uncertainty, and Azriel clung to it with all his strength. Grateful for the clarity of the lake's icy waters, he scanned the depths below, searching for any sign of you.

And then he saw it—a flash of metal glinting in the moonlight, unmistakably your sword. His heart leaped with a mixture of relief and dread as he circled the area, his keen eyes scouring the surroundings for any trace of you. With a surge of determination, Azriel dove into the clear waters of the lake, his muscles straining with the effort as he propelled himself downward. Anxiety gripped him like a vice, each stroke of his wings a desperate plea for your safety.

His heart hammered in his chest as he descended deeper into the murky depths, his senses keenly attuned to every movement, every shadow that flickered in the water around him. The pressure of the water pressed in on him, threatening to crush him with its weight, but he pushed on, fueled by the urgency of the situation.

"Please," he prayed silently, the word a fervent prayer on his lips as he scanned the darkness below. The faint outline of your form came into view, a haunting specter in the gloom, and his heart clenched with fear at the sight.

His Illyrian wings strained against the resistance of the water, their powerful beats driving him ever closer to you. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to reach you, to pull you from the grasp of the icy depths and into the safety of his arms.

With each stroke of his wings, Azriel descended deeper into the darkness, his heart pounding with a mixture of dread and determination. His fingers strained, grasping for your form as he fought against the relentless pressure of the water.

When he finally reached you, his heart twisted painfully at the sight of your vacant eyes staring lifelessly into the abyss. Gently, he pulled you into his arms, cradling your limp body against his chest as he began the arduous journey back to the surface.

Tell me that you need me 'cause I love you so much Tell me that you love me 'cause I need you so much Tell me that you need me 'cause I love you so much Say you'll never leave me 'cause I need you so much

As he ascended, a sense of urgency gripped him, his movements swift and purposeful as he struggled against the weight of your lifeless form. Halfway to the surface, he summoned his power and with a flicker of shadows, he winnowed to the shore, still holding you tightly in his embrace.

Your body felt unnaturally cold against his, your skin pallid and clammy as he laid you gently on the ground. Panic surged through him as he knelt beside you, his hands shaking as he pressed against your chest, desperate for any sign of life. But there was nothing—no rise and fall of your chest, no flutter of your eyelids. Tears stung his eyes as he stared down at your motionless form, the weight of his failure crushing him with each passing moment. "No," he whispered hoarsely, his voice cracking with emotion as he fought to suppress the rising tide of despair. "No, no, no."

With tears streaming down his cheeks, Azriel bent over your motionless body, his hands trembling as he began chest compressions. Each push was an agonizing reminder of his helplessness, his fingers pressing against your chest with desperate force, willing your heart to respond.

The bond between you dimmed with each passing second, a thin thread of connection that threatened to snap at any moment. But Azriel refused to let go, his mind consumed by a singular determination to bring you back from the brink. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to yours, breathing life into your still body with every exhale. The taste of saltwater lingered on your lips, a bitter reminder of the depths from which he had pulled you.

His movements were frantic, almost desperate, as he continued to alternate between chest compressions and breaths, his own breath ragged with exertion. His wings, normally a symbol of strength and power, drooped at his sides, soaked with water and heavy with the weight of his despair. In the midst of his efforts, he failed to notice the arrival of Cassian, Nesta, Rhys, and Feyre, their shocked gazes fixed upon the scene unfolding before them. They hovered at a distance, unsure of how to intervene, their hearts heavy with the weight of your precarious situation.

But Azriel was lost in his own world, consumed by the task at hand. He refused to acknowledge the fear gnawing at his heart, the dread that threatened to consume him whole if he dared to let it in. Azriel's hands moved with a desperation born of sheer terror, his fingers trembling as they continued to press against your chest. Each compression sent a jolt of anguish through his body, his muscles straining with the effort to bring you back to life. "Please," he whispered, the word barely audible over the rush of blood in his ears. "No, please."

His vision blurred with tears, the world around him reduced to a hazy backdrop of grief and despair. He chanted your name like a prayer, a desperate plea to whatever gods might be listening to spare your life. "You can't go," he pleaded, his voice breaking with emotion. "Not like this." Beside him, Cassian's heart shattered at the sight of his brother's anguish. Stepping closer, he placed a hand on Azriel's back, a silent gesture of support in the face of overwhelming sorrow.

"Brother," he murmured, his voice thick with unshed tears. But before he could say anything more, Azriel's head snapped in his direction, rage blazing in his eyes. "No!" Azriel snarled, his shadows swirling around him in a tempest of fury. Cassian recoiled, his heart aching at the sight of his brother's pain etched so clearly on his face. Feyre's sobs echoed in the background, a haunting melody of grief that underscored the desperation of the moment. Rhys and Cassian shared a look, their expressions mirroring the anguish that weighed heavy on their hearts.

But it was Azriel who bore the brunt of the agony, his entire being consumed by the terror of losing you. As he clung to your lifeless form, he felt the weight of despair pressing down on him, threatening to crush him beneath its unbearable burden. With each passing moment, he watched helplessly as you slipped further away from him. Your lips, once full of color, now turned a lifeless shade of blue, your cheeks growing hollow with every breath you didn't take.

"Please," he begged, his voice raw with anguish. "Do something! Rhys, please!" His words were a desperate plea, a cry for salvation in the face of overwhelming despair. But as Rhys stepped closer, a defeated look on his face, Azriel's heart shattered into a million pieces.

"I... I can't," Rhys murmured, his voice heavy with sorrow. "I'm sorry, brother, but..." Azriel's rage boiled over, his pain spilling out in a torrent of emotion. "You don't understand!" he screamed, his voice cracking with anguish. "She is my Mate!"

Don't go I can't do this on my own Don't go I can't do this on my own Save me from the ones That haunt me in the night I can't live with myself So stay with me tonight

The words hung in the air like a heavy fog, their significance sinking in with a painful clarity. Rhys and Cassian exchanged shocked looks, their faces a portrait of sorrow and disbelief. And as Feyre wept silently in the background, the weight of the truth settled over them. Azriel's cries echoed across the desolate landscape, a symphony of grief that pierced the night with its raw intensity.

With each failed attempt to revive you, his soul fractured a little more, the pain tearing through him like a relentless storm. He clung to you desperately, his fingers digging into your lifeless flesh as if trying to anchor you to the world of the living. But no amount of pleading or praying could bring you back, and with each passing moment, the reality of your loss became more unbearable.

Tears streamed down his cheeks unchecked, mingling with the cold water that surrounded you both. In that moment of utter despair, he felt as if his heart had been ripped from his chest, leaving behind nothing but a gaping void where you once belonged. In the eerie silence that followed, broken only by the lapping of the lake against the shore, Azriel held you close, his heart shattered into a million irreparable pieces.

His tears mingled with the water that now cradled your lifeless form, a cruel reminder of the love that had been torn from him so suddenly. "I love you," he whispered brokenly, his voice barely a whisper against the vast emptiness of the night. "I have always loved you." Each word was a knife to his soul, carving out the depths of his grief with ruthless precision.

As his tears fell upon your face, mingling with the coolness of death, Azriel felt the weight of his loss bear down upon him with crushing force. With trembling hands, he brushed a lock of hair from your forehead, his touch gentle yet filled with unbearable sorrow.

And then, with a heart-wrenching realization, the bond between you flickered and died, snuffed out like a candle in the wind. The agony that tore through Azriel in that moment was unlike anything he had ever known, a searing pain that threatened to consume him whole.

A guttural scream tore from his throat, raw and primal, echoing across the desolate landscape. His shadows burst forth from him in a frenzy of writhing darkness, swirling around him like a tempest unleashed. Rhys acted quickly, raising a protective shield to contain the torrent of emotions that threatened to overwhelm them all. Clutching your lifeless body to his chest, Azriel's whole being shook with terror and despair.

"No, this isn't true," he cried out, his voice a desperate plea to the uncaring heavens. "Don't leave me." But there was no answer, no miracle to bring you back to him. In that moment, the reality of living without you crashed over him like a tidal wave, threatening to drag him under. How could he go on without you? How could he face a world that suddenly seemed so cold and empty?

Your laughter, your smile, the warmth of your touch—all of it was gone now, lost to him forever. And as he held your lifeless body against his, Azriel screamed, a primal cry of anguish that echoed into the night, a haunting lament for a love that had been stolen away too soon.

With his forehead pressed against yours, Azriel wept, his tears mingling with the water that surrounded you both. He pressed a gentle kiss to your cold cheek, his lips trembling with sorrow and regret. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I failed you. I failed us."

The shadows around him finally began to still, their frantic dance slowing to a mournful sway. Rhys lowered his shield, allowing the others to approach, their faces etched with sorrow as they took in the devastating scene before them. Cassian stepped forward first, his expression a mixture of grief and disbelief. "Az," he said softly, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I don't know what to say."

Azriel looked up at his brother, his eyes red-rimmed and haunted. "Say that it's not true," he pleaded, his voice breaking. "Tell me this is just a nightmare and I'll wake up soon." But Cassian could only shake his head, his own heart heavy with grief. "I wish I could," he said quietly. "But this is real, Az. And I'm so sorry."

Azriel's voice cracked with anguish as he spoke, his words a desperate plea to the heavens. "Why you?" he cried, his voice raw with pain. "You were everything good in this world, everything bright and beautiful. Why did it have to be you?"

He clutched your lifeless form tighter to his chest, as if by sheer force of will he could bring you back to life. "It should have been me," he whispered, his voice thick with sorrow. "I'm the broken one, the one who's lived in darkness for so long. You deserved so much better than this."

Tears streamed down his face as he pressed his forehead against yours, his breath hitching in his chest. "I can't do this without you," he confessed, his voice barely more than a whisper. "You were my light, my reason for living. And now you're gone."

His heart shattered into a million pieces as he held you close, the weight of your loss crushing him beneath its unbearable burden. "Please come back," he begged, his voice choked with grief. "I can't bear to live in a world without you."

Don't go I can't do this on my own Don't go Save me from the ones That haunt me in the night I can't live with myself So stay with me tonight

Rhys approached Azriel cautiously, his expression heavy with sorrow. "Az, we need to leave soon," he said gently, his voice barely audible over the howling wind. "You'll freeze to death out here." Azriel's tear-streaked face twisted with fury as he turned to Rhys, his grief-stricken eyes burning with intensity. "I can't leave her here," he growled, his voice thick with emotion.

Rhys nodded solemnly, understanding the depth of Azriel's pain. "I know, brother," he replied softly. "But we can't stay here forever. We need to take her home."

Azriel's sobs echoed through the desolate landscape, his voice barely above a whisper as he pleaded, "Just five more minutes." His gaze remained fixed on your beautiful face, etched with pain and longing.

Rhys and Cassian exchanged a somber glance before silently stepping back, giving Azriel the space and time he needed to say goodbye. The minutes stretched into hours, the sun dipping below the horizon and rising again, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink. But still, Azriel clung to your lifeless form, his whispered pleas of "just a little more" echoing through the silent air. Each passing moment felt like an eternity as Azriel grappled with the reality of your absence. The weight of his grief was palpable, a heavy burden that threatened to consume him. But still, he couldn't bring himself to let go, as if leaving this place would make the devastating truth more real.

As the sun reached its zenith once again, casting long shadows across the landscape, Rhys approached Azriel with a heavy heart. "Az," he said gently, his voice filled with compassion, "we need to go." Azriel's voice was raw with emotion as he stood for the first time since arriving at the desolate shore, still cradling your lifeless form in his arms. His eyes, once filled with anguish, now held a haunted emptiness as he spoke to Rhys, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I can't live without her, Rhys," he confessed, the weight of his words heavy in the air. Each syllable was laden with the depths of his grief, a pain that seemed insurmountable in the wake of your absence. Rhys's heart clenched at Azriel's words, the pain evident in his brother's voice piercing through him like a blade. He could see the devastation etched into Azriel's features, the unbearable weight of loss bearing down on him.

"I know, Az," Rhys murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I understand. But we have to take her home. She deserves that much." His own grief threatened to overwhelm him, but he pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand. "We'll give her a proper farewell, Az. Together." Azriel cradled your lifeless form in his arms as he followed Rhys, his steps heavy with grief. He thought of all the moments they had shared together in Velaris, the quiet nights spent stargazing on the balcony, the lazy mornings talking over coffee. He thought of the way your laughter echoed through the streets of the city, a beacon of light in the darkness.

But now, all of those moments felt like distant memories, fragments of a life that was no longer his to hold. As Azriel prepared to winnow back to Velaris, your lifeless form cradled in his arms, he couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of regret that consumed him. He would never get the chance to kiss you again, to hold you close and tell you how much he loved you. He wished he had confessed his feelings before, before the bond had been revealed, before it was too late.

You had died alone, unaware of his love, unaware that you had a mate who cherished you more than anything in this world. The thought tore at his soul, leaving behind a gaping wound that he knew would never fully heal. He would carry the weight of that regret with him for the rest of his days.

But as he prepared to winnow, to leave this desolate place behind and return to Velaris, he knew that he had to find a way to live with the pain, to honor your memory in every moment of his existence. You may be gone, but your love would live on in his heart forever.

With one last lingering look at your peaceful face, Azriel whispered a silent promise to himself, to remember you, to cherish you, to love you for all eternity. And then, with a heavy heart and tear-stained cheeks, he winnowed away, back to Velaris, with you in his arms, your spirit forever intertwined with his own.

Don't go Don't go Don't go Don't go

☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆~●~☆

A/N: I'm sorry. Whew. I made myself cry while writing this. Please let me know if you enjoyed this and if you'd be interested in an alternative ending. :)

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #reader insert #azriel spymaster #x reader #azriel angst #angst #tw death #death #loss #heartbreak #dealing with grief #grief #angst without a happy ending #cassian #rhysand

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