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selunesdreams · 2 months ago

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Eating Crow Chapter 1: The Little Flame of Treviso

“No scars. A talented assassin.” He observed, fixing the cuffs of his shirt. She pulled down the collar of her jacket, revealing gashes along the side of her throat. He let his eyes linger curiously. “My second most valuable asset is my face. I protect it.” "What other scars does she have? What other scars could we give her?” “Hmm.” He ignored Spite’s lust for violence - or maybe it was just plain lust. “What’s your first?” “My aim.”

Pairing: Lucanis x Fem Rook/OFC x sometimes Spite??

Summary: Born to renowned assassins and raised in the heart of Treviso, Fiamma De Riva hasn’t known home in a very long time. Orphaned, she was taken under the wing of her cousin, Viago, and quickly ascended through the ranks of the Antivan Crows.

After being sidelined for a well-meaning mistake, she abandoned the life she once knew to pursue the Dread Wolf alongside Varric, the only person left who still believed in her.

Now living under the alias “Rook,” Fiamma is rallying forces against elven gods. But when she must return to those she once called family for aid, she’s tasked with rescuing the Demon of Vyrantium, Lucanis Dellamorte, who might force her to reckon with the legacy she’s abandoned… and bring her dangerously close to the edge

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Welcome to my Lucanis fic! Mind the tags, grab a cup of coffee, and get cozy. If you're new to my fics, I LOVE lore. I usually get wrapped in dnd lore, but have been a Dragon Age fan for 13 years or something like that (that's terrifying to read back to myself) and you know...lore comes with the territory. I might get a few things wrong, feel free to (kindly) let me know. This is an 18+ fic, MDNI!

Things of note: Rook is Fem, human, mage, Antivan Crow. I like writing storylines and tension, but there will be smut! I don't know how the tags/warnings will evolve, but it's reasonable to expect some messy Spite consent stuff? Please read on AO3 if you need to track warnings, they will be inevitably detailed better there (or just want to be real sweet and give me hits/kudos/comments).

There will be spoilers! I am starting this right at the Sea of Blood quest where you get Lucanis. I suspect it will take me some time to flesh things out so hopefully that gives you time to finish the game!

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

“You can’t be serious.”

Fiamma De Riva paced Neve Gallus’ office, bright blue wisps parting for her as she changed directions in the small room. The detective had made cozy conditions out of a not-particularly welcoming space. She’d give her that, but the scattered papers and books set her on edge. Perched atop her desk, Neve sat with one leg crossed over the other. Her dwarven-crafted golden prosthetic glinted in the soft light as she bounced her foot in the air impatiently.

“Rook, we’ve all got tough decisions to make. I know a family reunion isn’t the move you were hoping for, but we need an assassin.”

“You have me!”

“We need another assassin. You might be the Little Flame of Treviso, but we need something bigger, we need-”

Fiamma could hear the weariness in Neve’s words as she touched her forehead absentmindedly and winced, forgetting about the nasty cut gracing her forehead.

Fiamma felt a pang of guilt - if she’d told the mage to stay behind, perhaps things would have ended differently. She might not have gotten hurt and Varric…

Varric.

She shook her head, swallowing hard. Varric was going to be fine. Nobody else seemed worried about him. Why should she be?

“You need the Demon of Vyrantium.”

Neve offered a smile, holding out an opened letter. Fiamma took it apprehensively, her fingertips tracing the wings of the Antivan Crows’ seal.

“I’ve already arranged a meeting with his grandmother, First Talon Caterina Dellamorte, and your cousin, Viago.”

With a resigned sigh, she tossed the envelope aside and crossed her arms, averting her gaze. “I hate that you’re right.”

Neve pushed off her desk, squeezing Fiamma’s shoulder on the way out.

“If it’s any consolation, I usually am.”

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

Fiamma arranged for them to meet with a former friend, Teia, in Treviso, prior to meeting with Viago and Caterina. It would soften the blow of returning home to be greeted by a friendlier face first.

“You made it. I hear you go by Rook these days.”

“It’s good to see you. Neve, meet Andarateia of House Cantori.”

“No need to be formal with friends. Teia, please. Come, Viago is gathering the others. He’s happy you’re home.”

“I somehow doubt that.”

“He’s missed you. You broke his heart when you went away.”

“And he broke mine when he had me waiting on Caterina like a handmaid instead of protecting our city.”

Teia sighed, proceeding to lead them through the city.

“When you said the others, did the others include Illario?”

“Oh, please, Fi-Rook. He doesn’t bite.”

“He might as well.”

Fiamma glanced around at their surroundings, the dilapidated buildings, the quiet streets that were once bustling with life, romance, and joy.

“I hate seeing Treviso ground down like this.”

“This occupation will not last. The Antivan Crows remain. And one day, I will see a knife through every would-be tyrant’s throat.”

They took a zipline to the Crows’ headquarters. Fiamma swung from the bars, enjoying the wind on her face as the city skyline swept below her feet. She landed with a cat’s grace, greeted by the familiar thud of cobblestone beneath her boots. She’d never admit it out loud, but she missed this.

“A casino. Nice.” Neve said as they walked across a narrow beam.

“The Cantori Diamond.” Fiamma sneered.

“Watch it.” Teia called back to her.

Vaulted ceilings and plush furniture awaited them in the meeting chamber. Fiamma eyed the empty goblets near one chair, wondering which was full of the diluted poison Viago dosed himself with every day. Paranoid bastard.

“Two years.” Her cousin growled as they entered.

“Nice to see you too, Viago.”

“Did you finish that contract? To stop your Dread Wolf?”

“It wasn’t a formal contract. I left, remember?” Fiamma asked. “When you called me an embarrassment to our house? But since you asked, no, not yet. Things are more complicated.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? Crows always finish the job.”

“We just can’t take initiative, right? My run-in with the Antaam taught me that.” She bit back.

“Don’t let him scold you too much. Vi was worried about you.” Teia interjected to ease the tension.

Viago lowered his head, clearing his throat and kicking at the polished ground under his boots. “Fiammetta-”

“It’s Rook, now.”

From the corner of her eye, she watched as Illario shifted his weight from foot to foot, watching her with a pained expression. She’d deal with that later.

“Rook. You remember Caterina Dellamorte.” Viago said.

“A pleasure.” She gave a slight bow. Despite changing the First Talon’s linens and bringing her breakfast on her balcony, Fiama had acquired a fondness for her.

“Have you finally returned home, Fiamma?” Illario interrupted, and the thin smile Caterina began to offer vanished.

“I’ve come to ask for assistance. My current target is a pair of elven gods - that’s what they call themselves, at least. They’re ancient blighted mages. I need our best. Someone who brought blood mages and Venatori to their knees.”

“My grandson.” Caterina said, her brow furrowing.

“Lucanis Dellamorte is dead.” Viago said, “He was killed a year ago now. If you’d remained home, you’d know-”

“Dead?” Fiamma blinked. She never thought it would be possible for anyone to best the Demon of Vyrantium. Not unless foul play was involved. Despite his occasional smugness, she found no pleasure in the news. Particularly since there wouldn’t be another assassin on offer even half as good as him. Her eyes flicked to Caterina, to offer condolences. The First Talon would never admit to playing favorites, but in the time Fiamma spent in her home, and being courted by her youngest grandson, it was clear Lucanis was who she favored to take her place.

“What I say doesn’t leave this room.” Caterina said, “The body our people brought back was not my grandson. It was dressed in his clothing, but it had been altered with blood magic to have his face.”

“My cousin is still alive?” Illario hissed, “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“His ship was attacked. We knew someone sold him out…so you kept your suspicions to yourself?” Viago was clearly surprised by the news.

“But you’ve brought it up now. Why?” Neve asked.

“I’ve had eyes on the Venatori ever since they took my grandson from me,” Caterina answered. “They were hunting your Dread Wolf. And what you did to his ritual threw them into disarray. They made mistakes, and now I have a location. The Ossuary. Where the Demon of Vyrantium is kept. Find this Ossuary. Find Lucanis, and you’ll have your god-killer. And I’ll have my grandson.”

“Come. Caterina arranged a boat. One of our mages will meet us there.” Illario said, leading them to the docks.

“A boat?” Fiamma asked, following him down the steps.

“Did you think the Venatori would keep a normal prison? Or that one could hold the Demon of Vyrantam? The Ossuary lies beneath the sea. A fact I learned mere minutes ago. Maybe she thought I’d act too rashly trying to save him.” He said bitterly, his eyes meeting hers. “Seems everyone enjoys keeping me in the dark.”

“Illario-”

“I would have words with you upon your return.” He commanded, “Right now, I need to learn whether my cousin is still alive.”

A small boat rocked in the gentle current by the dock, a lantern affixed to its bow. A Crow in a purple hood watched them warily, waiting.

“There, you take the boat.”

“You’re not coming?”

“You play the alluring hero. You’re the one who needs redemption so badly.” Illario was on edge, but there seemed to be more to it than a broken heart and family drama. “Someone has to make sure we weren’t followed.”

As the boat pushed away from the dock, Fiamma watched him disappear into the streets of Treviso. She didn’t miss him. Most times, she didn’t like him. But she knew how he felt about his family, and her heart ached for him, even just a little.

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

By Lucanis Dellamorte’s count, he had been in this underwater prison for a year.

Give or take.

It would be beautiful if he were here for any other reason. When he’d arrived to start the contract assigned to him, the views were breathtaking.

Occasionally, he’d prayed the enchantments keeping the Ossuary in place would fail. That he’d drown and get lost in the fade, or wherever he was bound to go. What would happen to him in death? And Spite, the demon who shared his body and consciousness? They had an agreeable ally ship, if only because they were both imprisoned and stuck with one another against their will.

He’d scratched a mark for each day in his crystalline prison. With no weapons, he used his fingernails, sometimes scraping until he bled to carve a line deep enough. He had to remember. He had to survive.

The days Calivan didn’t send for him, he scratched to the left. The days he was tortured, on the right. Eventually, the right became so crowded, they all blurred together.

A familiar voice caught his attention outside, interrupting his ritual.

“We don’t have to fight. We’re just here for Lucanis Dellamorte.”

“Come to save us?” Spite asked eagerly. “Took them long enough.”

But who was it? Not Caterina. He’d know it was her in an instant. Not Teia…

“Razikale, Dragon of Mystery. Lusacan, Dragon of Night—” As the Ossuary Guard began his incantation, Lucanis sensed Spite’s excitement.

“Hear your faithful call—”

“Now, now!”

With the guard distracted, the defenses of his prison were weak enough that Spite propelled them over the top.

He was flying.

A lifetime of training and muscle memory returned to him instantly. On instinct, he seized the nearest guard from behind, using him as a shield as another advanced on him with a sword, cutting clean through. With a swift, fluid motion, he propelled the lifeless body into his attacker, sending them into the air to be impaled by a nearby crystal stalagmite. With a running charge, he snapped the necks of two advancing guards, stealing one’s sword. His hand closed around the hilt, the cool metal causing him - and Spite - to shiver with anticipation. He turned at the sound of footsteps, slashing the throat of the final Venatori.

“Lucanis.”

He turned slowly to greet his rescuer, the essence of Spite’s wings retreating into his spine.

Fiamma De Riva. Viago’s little cousin. She’d been sentenced to serve as Caterina’s assistant as punishment for foiling a Crow operation. Good intentions aside, she’d acted rashly, and whether she believed it or not, she got off easy.

De Riva had always been pleasant enough. A bit cold towards him, but he didn’t hold it against her. Lucanis could tell her ego was hurt. Even worse, he knew she looked at Caterina’s home, the home he grew up in, and felt he hadn’t earned it. And she’d been right. He’d only earned his place in those halls by birthright, but his place in the Crows…he’d earned through blood and sweat.

But never tears. Caterina had no patience for tears. Poor Illario.

She’d been given the quarters next to his during her assignment. Despite her reputation for being a bit of a spitfire, living up to her namesake of “Little Flame”, she was quiet. Polite. And she treated his grandmother well. Earned her respect - no simple task. She was possibly the only person who Caterina Dellamorte would listen to regarding her health. If little De Riva had tacked a few more years on to his grandmother’s life, she had his gratitude for it.

Oh, how Illario had pined for her. She entertained it for some time, before his spoiled nature got on her nerves. But he fell hard. Once, his cousin drank himself into such a state outside Fiamma’s locked door that he nearly failed to fulfill a shared contact. Lucanis had to slap him awake, then pull him along just so he could do all the heavy lifting.

He’d do it all over just to see his little cousin again.

“Little De Riva? She looks like a grown woman to me.” Spite interjected, making him acutely aware that he was never alone in his thoughts.

“I’m only five years her senior. But five years is a sizeable gap when you’ve known someone since childhood.” Lucanis thought back quickly, dismissing the demon’s observations.

“Dellamorte!” Beside Fiamma, a dwarf woman had her bow pulled tightly, aimed in his direction.

“Rook. He’s possessed by a demon.” She warned.

“Rook?” Lucanis tilted his head curiously.

“It’s complicated.” She blurted. “Caterina promised us a mage killer if we broke you out of here. Can I count on you?”

He nodded. “I can still work.”

“Are you really possessed?”

“It’s complicated.” He said, glancing around the room. “I will help you, but I need something from you first. They have a vial of my blood. They can use it to control me. I cannot leave it in their hands. And…I had a contract when I was captured. One of my targets is here. Calivan.”

“Blood magic.” She scowled. “Come on. He’s good to go, Harding.”

“Forget the contract. We need to get out of here!” Harding said, her arrow still pointed at the center of his chest.

“Crows don’t break contracts.” He and De Riva said in unison.

Harding sighed and lowered her bow. “Alright, let’s make this quick.”

“I’ll owe you.” Lucanis said as they exited the chamber.

“I’m sure we’ll owe each other when this is all over.” Rook countered.

“Yes. I’d like to be owed a favor by the Little Flame.” Spite growled with delight.

De Riva was an impressive assassin, he thought to himself, as they fought their way through Venatori. He hadn’t seen her fight often, but it was evident she wasn’t out of practice. She’d left Treviso shortly before he’d been captured, where he wasn’t sure, but it was encouraging to see a Crow refuse to give up her work. It was good work.

“I found it!” Rook’s voice broke him from his thoughts. She held the flask of his blood in the air and his stomach clenched. She was a mage, after all, and with his blood in her hands-

“Destroy it!” He and Spite snarled at the same time. She hesitated, staring at the vial in her palm.

“Can I trust you? Can you promise me I don’t need to stow this for safekeeping?”

“Not hers!” Spite screamed in his head. “Stop her! Throttle her until she-”

“You can trust me,” Lucanis said evenly.

Rook’s eyes narrowed. “I hope you’re right.”

She threw the vial to the ground, and with a flick of her wrist, ignited the remnants of his blood in flame.

“Thank you.” He said,

“Don’t mention it. Let’s go kill your target.”

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

Caterina was nowhere in sight when Lucanis returned to Treviso.

“Maker…” Teia breathed as he and Rook entered.

“What happened here?” Lucanis demanded.

Illario slammed his fist on the table. “A message. From Zara Renata.”

Spite raged in his skull, so loudly that he didn’t notice Illario approaching.

“I can’t believe it. You’re home.” He said, grasping Lucanis’ thumb and wrapping his fingers around it in a typical Crow handshake.

“Zara…her people got this close?” Lucanis asked, letting his arm fall to his side as he paced, assessing the room.

“The woman who runs the prison?” Rook asked.

“The woman who captured me.” Lucanis glanced towards the door. “Where’s Caterina?”

Teia lowered her head and stifled a sob, Viago coming behind her and placing his hand on her shoulder. Something always existed between them, but Lucanis wasn’t sure if they’d acted on it yet.

“The Venatori got her in the confusion.” Viago said.

“I get two of you back, just to lose the other.” Illario lamented.

“Lucanis…I’m so sorry.” Neve said from behind Rook.

“No…time…to…grieve!”

Lucanis ignored Spite.

“I need to work.”

“You should take some time-” Neve began, holding out her hand.

“He doesn’t need time.” Rook interjected, stepping forward and holding his gaze. “He needs a target.”

Spite’s responding arousal was palpable.

“I like her.”

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

Lucanis braced one arm on the weathered mantelpiece, staring into the flames as they crackled on the hearth. He was in the fade. Or something like that. The Lighthouse, Rook had called it. And what a strange place it was. Fiamma - Rook now, as she asked him to address her - had another companion, Bellara, who had been thinking out loud since his arrival.

“-they’re the same thing. Mostly. Kind of,” she said to Neve from the table.

“Except one will manipulate you. Or kill you. Or both.” Neve replied.

The doors to the kitchen opened.

“What’s everyone talking about?” Rook asked.

Lucanis turned away from the hearth.

“Spite.”

“The demon inside of Lucanis.” Neve clarified. “When a person gets possessed, the demon usually takes control.”

“And they turn into a monster. The spirit just…molds them. However they want.” Bellara added.

Neve’s mouth formed a line. “I’ve heard of abominations being cured by killing the demon in the Fade. That’s not a sure bet, though.”

“Well, there’s one way…” Bellara said, staring at her hands, “but it’s…well…we’d have to, um…”

“You’d have to kill me,” Lucanis finished.

The room seemed to hold its breath.

“We’ll find another way.” Rook said. She didn’t seem impassioned about the statement, but it was comforting she wanted him alive. Behind her, Spite admired her with a sinister smile.

“She won’t hurt you. How sweet.”

Get away from her. Lucanis commanded.

The demon leapt back next to the fireplace, crouching, and Lucanis turned his head to ignore him.

“I want to talk to her.”

The others continued their conversation, but he couldn’t hear anything over Spite’s impatience.

“Let me talk to them! I want. To talk. To ROOK!”

“ROOK!”

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, Spite channeling all of his energy into the equivalent of a punch to the face. Lucanis pinched his nose, feeling the blood pool between his thumb and forefinger, with a stifled gasp of pain.

Bellara shot up from her seat, mouth agape.

“Lucanis!”

He held out his hand in protest, his voice calm, summoning years of training to keep himself from trembling. “No. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“What just happened?” Rook asked.

“He’s throwing a tantrum because he didn’t get his way. He’d do this in the Ossuary. The Fade does whatever a spirit wants. Real walls with chains, not so much. Just…give me a minute. He’ll get bored once everyone leaves.”

Rook lingered, hands on a chair back, as the others left, eyeing him warily.

“You’re still here.” Lucanis said.

“Having an abomination in the Lighthouse makes me nervous.” She finally said after several beats of silence.

He bristled. “Well, being an abomination makes me nervous, too.”

He held up a hand to silence her, walking around the table until he was only a sword’s length from her, studying her face. He couldn’t fault Illario for being heartbroken. She was stunning. How many times had she used her looks to her advantage? Was she like Teia, killing only men who deserved it by luring them to their deaths, like a Siren at sea? Or did she use the advantage of her beauty to kill more than just politicians and rapists?

“No scars. A talented assassin.” He said, fixing the cuffs of his shirt.

She pulled down the collar of her jacket, revealing gashes along the side of her throat. He let his eyes linger curiously.

“My second most valuable asset is my face. I protect it.”

“What other scars does she have? What other scars could we give her?”

“Hmm.” He ignored Spite’s lust for violence - or maybe it was just plain lust - and took a few steps back, dragging his finger along the wood of the dinner table.

“What’s your first?”

She turned to depart, the heels of her boots clicking on the stone floor as she strode towards the doors, throwing them open. She grinned over her shoulder back at him, showing him just how charming she could be.

“My aim.”

#lucanis dellamorte #spite being a little shit #lucanis x rook #lucanis fanfic #dragon age lucanis #da4 lucanis #lucanis romance #lucanis fic #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age fanfiction #veilguard fic #dragon age veilguard #spite dragon age #rook x lucanis #da4 #lucanis #lucanis fanfiction #eating crow

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skyfallscotland · 4 months ago

Note

I just wanted to ask if you're continuing BRV for the whole series or making you own ending

Hi! The plan’s always been to make my own ending and my intention is for Truth & Talon to diverge a little in the second half to support that. I have a broad outline for three arcs:

Fear & Flame Truth & Talon Love & Loyalty

(Yeah, it did just sound cool ok, what of it?! It’s actually fitting now though, so there’s that)

In saying that, I had intended to be finished with Love & Loyalty as well by the time Onyx Storm was published (lol). That’s clearly not going to happen because this instalment turned into a monster and I’ve had more time off than I planned, so some things from Onyx Storm might get incorporated into Love & Loyalty if they fit into my outline. You’ll see by the end of Truth & Talon what’s changed though and why things might be different.

I also think a lot of people aren’t going to like the direction I want to take Love & Loyalty in, so I want to try and write it almost to completion before I publish, both so I can avoid taking such a long break again if I can, and also so I can give the appropriate tags and warnings in advance so people can choose not to continue on the journey, because I will lose readers if I take it in the direction I want to.

I’m fine with that, I have to be—if I don’t write a storyline that sparks enthusiasm in me it will be like pulling teeth—but I do feel kind of bad because I know a lot of people have invested a lot of time in this series and will ultimately be disappointed.

#basgiath (remi's version)#remi's version asks

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anonymous-bastard · 4 months ago

Note

Oh hey! I was recently in a coma too

Hi Jamie!

Guess who woke up from their coma!!!!

you were WHAT?!

COMA?!

ARE YOU OKAY?!

#storyline tag: talon time #silly bart tag

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cljordan-imperium · 1 year ago

Note

Happy STS! Is there any character that underwent some serious changes from how you imagined/planned them and how they are in the WIP? What is the difference and how did it happen?

*falls on the floor, wheezing laughing, kicking little feet (I'm a full grown ass woman and wear a size 5, the damn things are tiny)*

Have you met Abriella? *wheezes, falls over laughing again as she is giving the middle finger in my head*

Ok, I'm not laughing at you...I'm laughing because as soon as I read this, she stood up in my head and goes "ME! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS FUCKING BITCH HAS DONE TO ME?!?!"

SO...let me tell you about a 20 year journey of Briella Knight to Abriella Engel... *still giggling to self as she throws a fucking Queen ass tantrum*

Okay, so if we go waaaaaay back to when Abriella was born, she was not a character in a story I was writing, she was an RP character. Her name was Briella Knight and she was an Elemental. She controlled the 5 forces of nature - earth, wind, water, fire, and electricity/lightning.

Fast forward a few years, and some DND friends and I were talking about my RP and also about Cassandra Claire's Mortal Instruments book series and how we loved the premise of it, but we weren't totally sold on her mythos. This was 2007-ish. We kept talking about it and were like, "I like this", "this is bullshit" till "Sanctuary, The Society" was born...the name of our RP Group for the next several years. The original characters were Briella, Cruz, Talon, Talia, Dez, and Charmaine. Talia and Charmaine were written by the same person, all the rest of us only had one. Eventually, Raguel, Arioch, Deacon, and Olly joined the fold of characters, but no new writers.

This was when Briella first changed. She became Brie, discoverd she was a Nephilim, got Cruz as a brother, and BOOM...huge change. We actually write long ass storylines about all of these changes and how they went about. It is now canon in her history. You see it referenced.

Since then she's gone on to become the Horseman of Death, Grigori of the Source (as is Cruz), and the Queen of Upper and Lower Hell (Imperium & Caligo)... So...from basic Elemental to all of that....yeeeeaaaaahhhhh....bit of a change...and none of it was easy. If I just posted what I've put her through in the last 4 years....*cringe* And...uh...I have more planned now. But when I first planned her, I never could have considered she'd be a character in over 200 chapters now written. She's the main central character in the first over 150 (those aren't here..I haven't decided if there'd be interest in them). It's been a long ride, and although I've tortured her pour soul and body...she'll always be my most precious blorbo baby.

TAG LIST @spookyceph @saltysupercomputer @careful-pyromancer @late-to-the-fandom @autumnalwalker @perasperaadastrawriting @fearofahumanplanet @jessica-writes22 @dogmomwrites @mjjune @verba-writing @blind-the-winds @outpost5151 @inkspellangell @sunset-a-storyy @writingmaidenwarriorr @clairelsonao33 @toribookworm222 @there-goes-thefighterr @aziz-readss @raincoffeeandfandoms @cillmequick @runnning-outof-time @look-at-the-soul @halfbit @touloserlautrec @call-sign-sharkk @kaiusvnoir

#the imperium chronicles #writeblr #writeblr community #writeblr connect #Ask answered

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theinsanecrayonbox · 11 months ago

Text

Sabretooth War part 3

Well…it’s better than the first two, and you know why I think that is

Lavalle seems to be helming this one. I went back to check Part 2 and yeah

Percy helmed the first two (and they had a diff artist interesting). So I’m wondering if they’re just gonna switch off issues.

Also

Arkady is once again Sir Not Appearing. Then again, almost all of these characters don’t appear in this issue, so idk what to make of this section anymore. But it’s weird right, that the rest of the X-Force cast AND the guest characters are here, but not him.

Anyways, story time. Geeze let’s see if I can remember because I read it last night but my phone refused to let me post about it, and this story does not have particularly great staying power…

We open on the Team X flashbacks as the previews told us. Savage and Camo call Vic out on not being a good leader

Wait he’s got metal bones again?? Would’ve been nice to have SEEN that happen instead of being TOLD about it. Also Savage knows Weapon X? I would’ve thought being Savageland lady her works might not have had one…huh. But wait, this is alternate reality adamantium; does it work the same, have the same poisoning effects, is that why Vic isn’t using his brain because the metals are rotting it away?? Is that where the adamantium coils came from? Did you melt some of alternate Red’s coils for your bones?? Boy what an uninteresting line of questions glad we skipped that story beat /sarcasm

Uh…what happened next…I think we followed Victor to bed?? Quinten’s head is in the jar like Headpool; it’s Orchis tech that apparently took a long time to learn how to use properly (again great job not showing us a good story). Vic takes a nap…Quinten makes a psychic call…to the Pit Gang

ARE YOU KIDDING ME! I was again JOKING about the whale jumping!! WHY is this a thing??? And oh look I was right, it doesn’t save the story.

Wait you guys had reality hopping too? HOW? WHY?? Yeah ok, we got screwed out of a whole miniseries for this gorefest didn’t we. Two boats reality hopping, earning character development, screwing up so many timelines, THAT’S an Exiles storyline, not…this. Argh.

Pit Gang is annoyed that they have to go back to work, but decide to do it anyways in a scene after the next bit, but I’m just summarizing it now because really, I don’t wanna focus on these guys longer than needed, they really are a distraction from the main focus.

Back with the SabreSquad, Savage and Camo are conspiring

Uhg gross. 1) that’s still a terrible retcon for Laura. 2) you actually are a clone because the respawn team made a second you (you) when the original you (Talon) was thought dead in the Vault, plus you have metal bones. 3) oh geeze they’re using alpha/beta/omega language, uh…not my fault (please don’t be my fault) (*I know it’s not really just laugh at the bit*)

Savage rips Laura’s jaw off, because we needed some ***sExY vIoLeNcE**{tm}. But hey, this and ripping into Camo earlier were the only gore fights this time, so it isn’t as bad as the others (so…Percy is the pointless gorehound…that seems to track). Oh and as a lady who suffers from scruff, Savage having some works fine for me; it was weird she was so smooth before, but I agree some with the tags that she needs some more muscle bulk and a bit of height.

Anyways, after torturing Laura it’s more conspiring to overthrow Victor time

1) No Camo you weren’t there when they fought Graydon, we have no idea where you came from. You might’ve been on the ship awaiting decapitation sure, but you didn’t escape and help beat up Graydon with the others. Lavalle wrote that part, how’d he forget?? 2) well we know from April solicits how this subplot will end, thanks marketing spoilers! 3) Pretty Boy really did have the braincell huh, cause this isn’t a good plan

We kinda bookend the issue with another Team X flashback as Vic is dreaming. He wakes up, Quinten head is also dreaming? It plays some sort of a map that Logan doesn’t like? Idk, but Vic is all “haha lemme derail what little plot there is and go do that instead next time” The End

Overall this issue was better than the previous 2, but it’s still not good. It very much feels like we cut out an important storyline just to do this, and yet now we are already bored of this and are cutting it short to switch to something else completely (gee I feel Ike I’ve said that about Percy storylines before). The flashbacks, though nice and will probably have a forced pay off eventually, feel out of place in this story format. There was less over the top gore and more focus on characterization so that’s good. But then we cut away focus for the Pit Gang and that kinda stalled things out; we already have too large of a cast of characters not getting enough focus (some completely forgotten) and this just adds yet another group that we’re not really gonna care about because they aren’t either of the title characters.

This whole thing is just confuzzling. Still gonna keep with it, but man, it’s still not going good.

#kp reads comics #kp rants about comics #sabretooth war #victor creed #sabretooth

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north-wolfwalker · 14 days ago

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Story Teaser 1

(anything to do with the main storyline will have the following tag, "Shadows of Athulyon Main." This is to make finding the actual story easier rather than having to scroll!)

Thousands of years ago the world was far different from as we know it today. Giant beasts ruled every corner of the world with iron claws and hooves. Dragons still commanded the skies with their might and their flames. The seas were untamed, the land unclaimed by any nation. Our ancestors lived in flocks or alone. Then, the Sun God unleashed his fury onto us, burning ancient forests to ash and soot. He poisoned the air, turned the ground into lava, he left our world with a vicious scar. The giant beasts fell, and we prevailed with others. After the attack, civilization rose. Our ancestors allied themselves to dragon and equine kind to create cultures, tribes began to form. For a long time, peace reigned, and we had gained a name: Aetherrans, "Rulers of Land and Sky."

One creature hated the peace. He despised any who were not of pure gryphon blood. He came upon forbidden magic, and launched a new era, one of betrayal. He slaughtered all that were not Aetherran according to him: every dragon, kelpie, unicorn, and drake fell to his commissioned army of darkness, The Pitch. with each victim claimed they would be forced to join him, for a while, it seemed he was only targeting those who were not gryphon-related. Fear rose among our ancestors, worried his bloodlust would be endless.

Millenia ago, he was defeated, no one knows how, historians have their theories, but no one dared question his defeat. His armies were scattered, soldiers arrested, Pitch laid to rest, any record of him before his extinction sprees were erased, only leaving behind a name: The Devilish Bird. His defeat left a gap in history, where Aetherrans would forget him, and continue to grow. We built castles, strongholds, villages, and more, expanding our knowledge and turning our eyes to the stars. The echoes of his actions had washed away with time, the only remnant of him was a statue left in a dark forest, settled in the heart of an abandoned village stands a stone monument of his terror. Today, we have forgotten him, but he has not forgotten us...

In the Whispering Pine Groves, they say the echoes of the dead can be heard through the wind. legends say restless spirits haunt the forest, though it is but a trick of the wind. However, there is more to the legend. Within the forest lies an abandoned ancient town, not a soul is heard throughout, until one reaches the center. Whispers beg travelers to turn back, to flee the Demon's presence, red ravens who ferry lost souls to their next life linger with unease, their irate calls echoing through the empty pathways. In the center of this abandoned town stands a statue of two beasts. The larger a gryphon with curled horns and his beak wide open in an eternal screech of fury, his talons raised to strike, wings flared in an emotion never perceived possible for him: fear. His body made of dark stone, cold to the touch. Beneath him stands a unicorn, reared up with its sharpened horn pointed at his belly. His body made of pristine white marble, unweathered and as pristine as if it was freshly carved. The monument stands as a moment frozen in time, presumably a shrine of the last unicorn being slain by the Devilish Bird's talons, or maybe a monument of his defeat, none truly know.

For a moment, the statue seems to be insignificant, but something happens. A sudden crack forms on The Devilish Bird's shoulder, creeping its way down slowly. At the base of the statue, a larger crack forms, a gurgling hiss rising from it as it glows black. A creature rises from the crack, hooves pulling itself out. A unicorn, dripping in demonic black tar that forms its decayed body. More follow it out, as they hiss and gurgle, stamping their hooves in anticipation. Another creature shoots out from the crack, screeching and forcing the unicorns to bow. 6 wings unfurl as three blind heads with gaping maws rise, letting out a horrendous screech. The Pitch, once put to rest and vanquished, rise once more and march, searching for victims sensing life that has wronged them long ago.

Nothing will be the same anymore.

#fiction #writing #fantasy #Shadows of Athulyon Main #original story #griffin #gryphon #may not be what im actually planning to write tbh

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anonymous-bastard · 6 months ago

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I'm going to save them...

I swear on my life.

#storyline tag: talon time

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grelleswife · 3 years ago

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*quickly sends you an ask* Mey Rin for the ask game please frien?? 🥰🙏

Sure thing! 🥰

1. My first impression of them. Sweet and adorable, albeit rather klutzy.

2. When I think I truly started to like them (or dislike them, if you've sent me a character I don't like). I liked Mey Rin right off the bat (the Phantomhive servants add a lot of heart to the storyline), and that appreciation only increased when she revealed her badass sniper skills during the circus arc! I love it when kind characters also have a ferocious side. 🔥

3. A song that reminds me of them. “almost home” by mxmtoon (which I first heard on @catraears ‘s wonderful Mey Rin playlist here on Spotify)

4. How many people I ship them with. Grelle, Sebastian, Hannah Annafellows, Paula, Agni, Ronald Knox, Madame Red (the three red ladies could make a very cute polycule!)

5. My favorite ship of them. Grellerin, because the vibes are immaculate. You have Grelle helping the maid embrace her femininity after a childhood and adolescence spent stifling it, and offering Mey Rin a passionate romance that surpasses anything found in the pages of her novels. You have Mey unconditionally loving and staunchly supporting Grelle, affirming the reaper’s identity even when so much of the world refuses to understand her. If they fought side-by-side, death scythe and rifle at the ready, these queens would be an unstoppable force! Sebagrellerin is also great…the perfect bisexual trio. 💖💜💙

6. My least favorite ship of them. I seem to recall spotting some nasty nonsense like Mey Rin/O!Ciel in the AO3 tag a while ago; anything like that is a hard pass from me, for obvious reasons. 🤢

7. A quote of them that you remember. “I obey young master’s command to the letter! To greet my master in a tidy manor every day—that is a maid’s duty. The housemaid shall purge the filth from this manor!”

8. Your favorite outfit of them. This dress from the official Gfantasy Sebamey cover!

9. Your least favorite outfit of them. Mey Rin looks fantastic in any outfit Yana chooses for her! 💕

10. Describe the character in one sentence. Though she presents a cheerful countenance by day, the Owl bares her talons by night!

11. What’s the first thing you think about when thinking about the character? How cute she is and how badly I want to cuddle her. 😭

12. Sexuality hc! Bisexual. 💖💜💙

13. Your favorite friendship they have. Her bond with the other servants; I’m a sucker for the trope where outcasts and misfits join together to create a little found family. 🥰

14. Best storyline they had. Her backstory in the maid arc. Those chapters gave us a better understanding of the harsh times that shaped her into a fearsome markswoman, as well as her resilience and ability to retain a beautiful soul despite those trials. Mey Rin’s come a long way from the bleak life in which she was trapped, which made it even more rewarding to see her thrive in the present!

15. Worst storyline they had. I wish she’d been aboard the Campania during the luxury liner arc. It would have been epic to watch her take out those bizarre dolls! 😈

16. A childhood headcanon. When she felt sad or discouraged, child!Rin would hum fragments of the tunes her mother used to sing to her in order to calm herself down.

17. What do you think their first word was? The Chinese word for “flower”

18. How do you think they were as a kid? (Like, were they shy, noisy, wild, etc). Based on the glimpse of babey Mey in canon, I’d say she was a naturally sensitive child forced to toughen up fast in order to eke out a living on the unforgiving London streets.

19. The most random ship you've seen people have with them. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen many ships involving Mey that were too bizarre, though I’m sure those crack pairings exist somewhere!

20. A weird headcanon. Maybe not weird, but spooky…Mey Rin loves telling ghost stories with the Bard and Finny on long winter nights, even though she often ends up scaring herself in the process. 😂👻

21. When do you think they were at their happiest? Those times at the manor when there are no attacks or other catastrophes to worry about, and she was free to enjoy picnics, fun outings in the city, and other bonding moments with the rest of the Phantomhive household.

22. When do you think they were at their lowest? Working as the Qing Bang’s assassin. Mey was surviving, but she wasn’t living.

23. Future headcanon. Partially as a consequence of working with her during their undercover mission, Mey Rin eventually becomes good friends with Ran Mao. At one point, the other woman gifts Mey a panda plushie identical to her own, which the maid treasures.

24. What do you think is a secret they have that they never told anyone? The exact number of people she’s killed over the course of her work. That death count comes with the territory, but Mey Rin doesn’t like to dwell on it.

25. When do you think they acted the most ooc. Her character’s been pretty consistent (at least in the manga), though I wish Yana had let her show her true colors earlier on in the story.

26. When do you think they were being "themselves" the most? After becoming a maid, because she could finally express her identity as Mey Rin, rather than being callously treated as Rin, valued only for her keen eyes and deadly aim rather than her personhood.

27. If they could meet a character from another show/movie/etc, who would be the most fun for them to meet? I’d love to see an AU where she could interact with Jeanne from Vanitas no Carte because they have a lot in common—wonderfully endearing ladies who also have an intense side, past trauma, a well-deserved reputation for being frighteningly talented at putting enemies six feet under, in service to a young master who offered them a brighter future, etc. I just think they should eat macarons together and be besties. :’)

28. The most unnecessary thing they ever did? Nothing really comes to mind? 🤔 Anything my girl does is significant to me! 💖

29. How do you think they would be as a parent? (and if they are a parent, how do you think they would be if they weren't?) An amazing mom. Since she’s prone to anxiety, Mey could definitely benefit from a partner to lend a hand (raising kids is stressful work), but her fierce protectiveness and warm, affectionate demeanor would carry the day more often than not. She’d be patient and gentle, and give the best hugs!

30. The funniest scene they had? Her stunned reaction to Finny’s spine-breaking tackle! 😂

#kuro asks #kuroshitsuji #mey rin #ask game #thank you fren!

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jaydicksummerexchange · 3 years ago

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2021 JDSE Reveals: Thurs, September 2

[ ❤ Works posted so far! ❤ ]

There are now over 100 works in this year’s exchange! Send a massive thank you to the artists and writers by dropping a comments and kudos.

Here are today’s posted works:

Somewhere Only We Know by Anonymous for bitterleafs [Teen And Up Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply, 3.1k words]

Tags: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Fluff, Angst, Retirement, Family, Reminiscing

Summary: Settling into bed, Jason smiled, gently reaching out and running his fingers through Dick’s hair. From a man who had nothing to his name, no family, no home, Jason’s life had changed so drastically and it was all because of Dick. All he ever had to do was love Jason and somehow, that was more than enough to turn his life around, to make him see that there was more to the world than the darkness that he had always known.

Lying on the bed with his husband in his arms, Jason was now the happiest man in the world and he wouldn’t change it for a thing.

I linger on dear, still craving your kiss by Anonymous for epistemology [Teen And Up Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply, 3.3k words]

Bombshells AU, Haly's Circus (DCU), Jason Todd & His Lesbian Moms, Canon-Typical Violence, Not Canon Compliant, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced World War II, Pining, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt Jason Todd, Hurt/Comfort, Dancing, POV Jason Todd, JayDick Summer Exchange 2021

Summary: “Are you okay?” his shaky voice whispered. Blood trickled down the side of his face, his cheeks were flushed and filthy from fighting the soldier off, and yet he was the prettiest boy Jason had ever seen.

Kate & Renee take Jason to the circus for some fun. Who knew that would lead him to one troublesome Dick Grayson, too?

Just the Price I Pay by Anonymous for RUNNFROMTHEAK [Teen And Up Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply, 3.9k words]

Tags: Captured, Angst and Feels, Hurt Dick Grayson, But also, Dark Dick Grayson, Earth-3, Manipulation, Idiots in Love, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, Jason Todd Has Feelings, Dick Grayson Has Issues, Self-Worth Issues, all kinds of issues, Post-Spyral, Sadism, Implied Sexual Content, Rescue, Protective Jason Todd, Protective Donna Troy, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Hopeful Ending

Summary: "Damian gave me a hug," Talon says casually, with a malicious glint in his eye that is so familiar to Dick by this point. "Arms around my waist and everything. Of his own volition! Such a sweet kid, huh?"

Dick doesn't respond, doesn't let himself react, instead staring blankly at the wall. He knows Talon just wants to rile him up, and it'll only get worse if he shows that it's getting to him. But it...it is getting to him.

Or: Earth 3 Richard Grayson, the right hand of Owlman, captures Dick and takes over his life...and no one notices.

burn me up inside by Anonymous for Squishychickies [Teen And Up Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply, 3.9k words]

Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Reverse Robins AU, Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Dragon Dick Grayson, Fae Jason Todd, Protective Damian Wayne, Insecurity, Pining, Love at First Sight, Lack of Communication, Light Angst, Hopeful Ending, POV Dick Grayson, POV Jason Todd, JayDick Summer Exchange 2021, Worldbuilding

Summary: When Bruce had first brought the unfortunate matter of an arranged marriage to his attention, a marriage to secure the Dragon Clan’s alliance with the Fire Fae in order to stave off a potential war, Dick had reluctantly accepted that he’d be the one to fill the role of husband since Damian was already set to marry another. But upon seeing his betrothed at the altar, torches lighting the mesmerizing glow of his teal eyes, skin painted in reds and golds and oranges like a living flame, he’d fallen quite hard.

Like a secret in your throat by Anonymous for Xanthos_Samurai, spacecapes, BehindTheRobinsMask [Mature, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, 0k words]

Tags: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Human/Vampire Relationship, Vampire Jason Todd, Blood Drinking, Partial Nudity, Fanart, Beware of the nipple, …(click for more tags)

Summary: An invitation won't be necessary.

remember me, love by Anonymous for mlim8 [Mature, No Archive Warnings Apply, 3.4k words]

Tags: Minor Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, kind of, Language of Flowers, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, But Platonic & Romantic & Familial, Mild Sexual Content, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Kissing, Established Relationship, Fluff, Body Worship, POV Dick Grayson

Summary: In this world, flowers bloom on your body when someone experiences strong feelings/emotions for you. These feelings can be romantic, platonic or familial as all sorts of relationships can result in strong feelings.

After a night of patrol, Dick and Jason have a heated evening exploring each other's flower tattoos. That is, until some uninvited guests decide to crash the party.

I'm not ever careful by Anonymous for whippy [Explicit, No Archive Warnings Apply, 1.1k words]

Tags: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Mutual Masturbation, Shower Sex, Hurt Dick Grayson, Getting Together, …(click for more tags)

Summary: mutual masturbation in the shower

could you love me at my worst? by Anonymous for withthekeyisking [Explicit, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, 3.4k words]

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Dick Grayson is Crutches, Angst, Hurt Dick Grayson, Batman #640, Batman #641, Nightwing #109, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, POV Dick Grayson, Pre-Slash, JayDick Summer Exchange 2021

Summary: So Under the Red Hood happened at basically the same time as the Nightwing Mobbed Up storyline—so what about a fic where while Jason is going after Roman, he comes across Dick currently working for Black Mask? And all the angst therein because that wasn't exactly an emotionally stable time for either of them

...or something like that.

#2021 jaydick exchange #jaydick #dickjay #dick grayson & jason todd #send the participants your love via a nice comment!#they've worked super hard this year #as they do every year

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anonymous-bastard · 6 months ago

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I think they just give you all the feathers meant for the GL Corps? Because I THINK the rest of us haven't gotten any....

...🪶

...5 feathers.. why with me? What did i do?!😭

#storyline tag: talon time

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babyybitchhh · 4 years ago

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Oh! You are taking requests! That’s awesome! ✨💫 I’d like to request a scenery where the reader lost her sister to Douma (she lacks proof... it’s an strong gut feeling?... she’s right tho) so, she get on his “good side” working in his cult to get a chance to avenge her sibling... her acting convincing and the “betrayal” amuses him to no end, so he decides to play with her before... eating/transforming her? Your choice! I’m a sucker for horror so it could be as dark as your heart allow it! 💜💃

Sorry this took so long cxnvldsnvoen and even though I tweaked the storyline just a wittle bit, I hope you like it! <3

Words: 2639

Rating: Explicit/R-18+

Warnings: Cunnilingus, involuntary urination, cannibalism (sort of, you know the drill with Douma), body horror? Sexual gore? Yandere?? I’ll be honest, I’m not entirely sure how to tag this one.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24362824/chapters/66015442#workskin

♥♥♥♥

You were easily the most insincere person he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing.

The lie itself was written all across your face in bold, slashing brushstrokes for the whole world to see if only they’d look close enough but so few ever did. He alone was privy to your deceit. Only he saw that dishonest smile for what it was, always so placid and warm even though it just barely concealed the hissing viper within. The unwavering mask of false loyalty you greet him with and the rage waging war behind your eyes every time you look into his face. Everything was right there, completely out in the open as if you couldn’t be bothered with trying to hide it, and Douma loved that aspect of you perhaps most of all.

Just as any good figurehead should, he’d nurtured the darkness within you until it sprouted roots and festered, growing ever larger as your hate for him also grew. Welcomed you and your heavy burden with open arms. Encouraged it even. You were simply too fun to play with and he was ever so curious to see how far into depravity you would ultimately spiral because of him. In some ways it was sad. Pathetic even that you would devote what was left of your miserable life to being a duplicitous little bitch when there were so many alternatives that were far, far more pleasant. But it was also undeniably thrilling at the same time, almost intoxicatingly so.

To think that he had angered you to the point of not only chasing after him like a pitiable stray but to also go so far as joining his congregation just to get close … this was a uniquely exquisite indulgence he wouldn’t soon rush to squander. Particularly not when keeping you around afforded him so many plushy benefits.

“You’re trembling.” A dangerously sharp nail traces its path down the length of your twitching stomach. He pauses at your belly button, toys with the notion of jamming his finger right through it and into your guts, but ultimately decides to save it for another day. Humming faintly, Douma resumes his tauntingly slow descent south. “Are you cold?”

You refuse to look at him and instead push the side of your face deeper into the pillow. It was always like this no matter how often he opened up his chamber doors in welcome. You simply refused to stop playing your part even when he had you spread out like some shameless whore on his bed of silk and that would never cease to amuse him for as long as he allowed you to live. You’d have been quite the accomplished actress if only you hadn’t been going up against the head performer himself. That you were out of your league was, to him at least, painfully obvious but he didn’t have the heart to tell you that just yet.

No, not yet. There was still more of you to savor.

Bending close, Douma presses a lingering kiss to the center of your stomach. He can taste you on his tongue, blooming notes of stale meat poisoned with bitter fury, and it elicits a quiet groan out of him. You were the finest decadence he’d had in his bed in a very long while.

“Poor thing, that just won’t do. Let me warm you up.”

You squirm against the sheets as he pecks his way lower, issuing expertly timed sighs at the appropriate intervals. He appreciates just how committed you are to the act. Wonders if you found some pathetic young sod to practice with before presenting yourself to him or if you were simply a brazen slut by nature. It’s hard to say which prospect delighted him more, though Douma hardly cares to know the answer, particularly when he presses two fingers to your outer labia and carefully spreads them open.

So soft and fleshy, the petal-like folds make his mouth water. He could imagine no greater joy than nibbling on those puffy little lips and taking nipping bites at the swollen pearl bud that peaks up at him even now until you were bordering on hysterics, fighting him tooth and nail to get away. Only then, only when you were a frenzied animal trying to escape his taloned clutches, would Douma allow himself to sink his teeth in at long last. He was certain your sweet cunt would give way under his jaw without much resistance, if any at all. It would be just like biting into a peach.

But you weren’t quite ripe enough yet. You were almost there -- so, so very close he could just about feel the meat of your womanhood being rendered and chewed between his molars -- but still not there. He would satiate his abominable hunger only when you were blackened, mind, body and soul with your hate.

Eagerly licking his lips, Douma leans down and swipes the tip of his tongue across your clit. The way the meaty nub clings to his taste buds, dragging against the salivating muscle until it pops back into place with a plump jiggle, delights him to no end. It was so swollen that even it’s protective hood did very little in the way of concealing your arousal. If he didn’t know any better, he’d almost think you’d had to go months on end without release. Evidently, though, your cunt just enjoyed being on the receiving end of his attention that much even when your brain was most assuredly in total disagreement with that sentiment.

He moans, very faintly, at the thought of your brain. The day of feast couldn’t come quick enough.

“Oh, sweet dove …” Douma coos, nuzzling into your clenching pussy as if he were a cat marking its territory. “Are you really so neglected? I’m not sure how you’ll ever forgive me for making you suffer like this.”

You choke down an unintelligible sound that’s half sob, half moan and bring your hand up to coquettishly hide your mouth from his line of sight. “Douma-sama … please …”

He can hear it in your voice. The lie. The obvious, blatant, belligerent lie and it goes straight to his cock.

Undeniably, you sold the performance with every aspect of your body language right down to the way you shyly spread your legs further apart for him but the lie was still there. It was simply too big to hide. Not the small, pardonable white lie a god could be swayed to forgive with the right offering but a massive, all encompassing falsehood that had long since swallowed up your ego like a gluttonous black hole. You weren’t a person any longer but a container merely housing the selfish urge for vengeance.

You were so damn close.

Nails digging into the plush swell of your thigh, Douma lays himself out flat between your legs and presses his mouth to your slit. For as brief as the gesture is, he still comes away with glistening wet lips and he greedily licks up the evidence just as a carnivore might lick its bloodied chops. Delicious.

“Don’t fret, my dear. I know exactly what you need.” A pause. Another playful kiss to your gushing cunt. The savory smacking of his lips is quickly followed by a dreamy, almost wistful sigh that makes you shudder, though it's impossible to say if that reaction was one of pleasure or abject disgust. Not that it really mattered either way to him. “Just relax. Let me take care of you and then you’ll be free to scurry off back to bed like a good little girl.”

You visibly tense under him and, smothering the cruel laughter that tries to claw its way up his throat, Douma glances at your face.

Still partially obscured by your clenched fist, you continue to hide from him as if you were an untouched maiden being ravaged against your will even though you’d spent countless nights with him in his room like this. Always, always playing your role. The tension in your neck, however, told a different story. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that you were biting your tongue and he derived a great deal of joy in the knowledge that you despised being talked down to so much. It just made him want to do it even more.

“Do you have any idea how good you taste? You’re like the sweetest forbidden fruit to me.” Tilting his head, Douma seals his lips around your pulsing clit and mouths at you. You arch, shoving your bare tits into the air with a quiet hiss but, still, you won’t look down at him. That suits him just fine though and he comes up off you a moment later with an obscenely loud, attention grabbing slurp that makes you twitch. “I could just eat you up, you know that?”

“D - Douma-sama --”

His tongue abruptly darts out, mercilessly lashing your clit.

You outright squeal, jolting at the sudden onslaught of stimulation before catching yourself and forcibly choking back any other sounds you may have been inclined to make. Douma is not so easily deterred though and he laps at you hungrily, attacking the engorged pleasure button from every possible angle until you’re a quaking mess underneath him. He could help himself to your sopping little cunt for hours if given the chance, high as a kite off the very real urge to consume you in the most literal sense, but it doesn’t take long at all to have you writhing uncontrollably. Although unfortunate, it was expected given just how needy and swollen you were -- and just for him at that. Who could have ever guessed?

“Oh, darling,” He pants, groans into the meat of your pussy. His eyes start to roll back in doped out bliss when your wild twisting drags those petal soft folds across his mouth as if you were intentionally teasing him now. Begging him to just take the plunge and take a bite out of you already.

It was almost enough to break his resolve. He wanted nothing more than to gorge himself on your delectably tainted body until he was too stuffed to move but the part of him that knows precisely how satisfying the payoff will be keeps him in check. It’s too soon -- still too soon to indulge -- and he has to make do with simply drooling all over your poor defenseless cunt while it creams around nothing except your hatred of him. Of all the meals Douma has enjoyed in his lifetime, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you would be the one he’d relish the most.

So caught up in the ecstasy inducing thought of finally eating you, truly eating you, he doesn’t notice you withdrawing a razor sharp pin from your hair until it’s right in his face. Blinking incandescent eyes at the foreign object, Douma allows himself another lazy lick at your still palpitating cunt and you seeth through gritted teeth, the glinting metal trembling in your hand.

“Get. Off.”

He acquiesces without a fuss.

You don’t even try to hide your surprise as you warily watch him sit up so that he’s kneeling on the futon between your spread legs. Clearly you’d expected a different reaction out of him and that makes Douma smile. You don’t seem to appreciate that though and you jerkily sit up straighter, jabbing the pin at him in warning.

“Wipe that smirk off your face, demon!”

“Or what?” He asks sweetly. “Are you going to kill me?”

“Yes! I’m going to kill you and take revenge for my sister!”

Brows drawing up in affected pity, Douma pins you with a withering leer. “If you’re going to kill me anyway then I don’t see any reason why I should stop smiling.”

Balking, you sputter indignantly. “You - you horrid fiend --”

He moves too quick for you to react. His arm swings, slamming into your wrist with enough force to send the pin flying. You reel back with a haggard gasp but he grabs your forearm in a pinching grip and yanks you close again. Bringing his opposite hand up, Douma rams his palm into the underside of your outstretched limb. The resulting crack is instantaneous and horrible. Your face crumples in agony.

You scream.

“Now, now,” He purrs, letting your arm fall limp at your side. In a shell shocked panic, you try to reach for it as if to reset the bone yourself but he all too easily catches your shaking hand in his. Cradling it close to his chest just as one might do with a lover, Douma smiles at you as he effortlessly snaps your other arm just as he’d done the first. “Calm down. Everything will be alright.”

He can barely hear himself over your frenzied shrieking. It’s hard not to take pity on you when you’re like this, looking for all the world like nothing more than a wounded animal. Confused and so incredibly scared. Almost out of your mind with pain even as regret and terror flash at him through wide, glossy eyes.

It really was a shame too. You’d been so close to reaching full maturity but, well … this would probably do the trick just as well. Not right away, of course, because the only thing currently running through your mind were baser instincts that served no real purpose other than keeping you alive. You were in no mindset to humor your feelings of resentment and hate for him, or the loss of your sister for that matter.

Was that really what had prompted you to seek him out like this? Douma couldn’t exactly recall but it was a believable explanation. He was certainly willing to accept it, at least.

Deciding that the details didn’t really matter, he reaches out to grab your shoulders and shoves you back down on the bed. You wordlessly stare up at him in wild eyed terror as he rises above you like some sort of beautifully horrific wraith, preternaturally sharp teeth glinting in the low light when he grins at you. The shock must be starting to set in because your mouth moves but nothing comes out. Not so much as a peep, as though your voice box had been stolen.

He can’t help the deranged titter that bursts out of him. You were so damn cute .

“Don’t worry, darling. I won’t kill you. Not yet, anyway.” Contently sighing, Douma leans close to nuzzle his nose against yours in a mockingly affectionate gesture that only makes you shake harder. “You’ll stay here with me until you’re rotting from the inside out. I want you to despise me with every fiber of your being first and then, when you can’t even look at me without being consumed by rage, then I’ll finally eat you. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

You don’t respond - maybe you can’t - but he does feel the moment your bladder finally gives out and seeping wet warmth spreads across the front of his pants. A shudder of revulsion works its way down his spine and he clucks at you, letting his mouth tug into a disappointed frown.

“Such a high maintenance little girl … what should I do with you until then, hmm?” Douma thoughtfully puts his head to one side but quickly perks up at a sudden thought that has him smiling from ear to ear with nothing short of manic glee. “Oh, I know! Maybe I should break your legs too. Then you won’t be able to do anything at all without my help.”

An insignificant, fraying part of your conscience that had managed to cling to its humanity must register what he’d said because you begin shaking your head, still as silent as any mute, and that just makes his grin widen.

“I bet you’ll really start to hate me then, won’t you?”

#kimetsu no yaiba #KnY #douma x reader #Douma #kny douma #self insert bullshit #my writing

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