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sea-lanterns · 1 year ago

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THE DRAGON'S BRIDE

synopsis: (dragon! AU) you were sacrificed to become the dragon's bride.

featuring: ningguang, yanfei, ganyu, xianyun, kokomi, ei

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: sub! afab fem reader, transfem characters (all of them), arranged marriage, hemipenes (double c.o.cks), double pene.tration, an.al, monsterfu.cking, size difference, size k.ink, mating cycles, ruts, marking, hum.ping, hand jo.bs, mat.ing press, rough s.ex, breeding, unprotected s.ex, creampies, womb tattoos, fu.cking in middair, not proofread.

art credits: the ancient magus bride

Every twelve years on the year of the dragon, the people of Teyvat offer sacrifices to Celestia’s most powerful beings; the heavenly dragons. Born with the power to bestow good fortune or destruction, the people of Teyvat have started a twelve year tradition, where they must sacrifice the best riches, treasures, food and gold they can, to honor these ancient beings, in exchange for another twelve years of success.

However, on this particular year of the dragon, all the dragons residing in Teyvat have strangely rejected the people’s treasures. Worried that they might be facing a twelve years worth of bad fortune if they failed to please their dragons, the people of Teyvat asked the dragons, "Why did they reject such plentiful treasures?”

The answers that were given were simple, yet heartbreaking.

“I wish for a bride. The most beautiful maiden in your region. I want her to be mine.”

Never had the people of Teyvat sacrificed a person before to the heavenly dragons. It terrified them beyond belief to wonder what would happen to the poor maiden who was chosen to become the dragon’s bride. But, in order to ensure another twelve years of plentiful success, the villages all across Teyvat began picking out the most beautiful woman they could find in their region, and that beautiful woman just so happened to be you.

Dressed lavishly in bright red silks, gold-clad jewelry, and chains binding your wrists together, you were left at the entrance of the dragon’s lair. The veil of your bright red wedding gown had covered most of your face, but underneath the fabric, a solemn expression of defeat wore down your face, tears running down your cheeks as you never expected that your wedding day would end up being sacrificed to a dragon.

A gush of hot air emitted from the entrance, and heavy footsteps began approaching you while you stood there and sobbed. The red veil of your wedding dress obscures your vision, as you see the silhouette of a big, monstrous, hefty dragon begin moving towards you from within the lair…

Too terrified to keep your eyes open, you welded them shut, wishing for your death to be a quick and painless one. However, the moment you felt your veil be lifted up by gentle hands, your eyes flitted open and widened at the sight you saw:

A beautiful, tall, draconian-looking woman, smiling softly at you before wiping away your tears.

NINGGUANG

The moment you two had met, Ningguang had transformed into her human form in order to make you feel more comfortable. Yet despite looking more human-like, she kept traits of her true self, such as her elegant horns, a golden, shimmering tail that protruded from her tailbone, and patches of gold scales that littered her skin in some areas. The human side of Ningguang was a good two feet taller than you as well, with sharp, red eyes that bore deep into your own, yet held a sort of softness with the way she gazed longingly at you.

On the night of your wedding day Ningguang’s eyes were angered at the sight of your wrists bound in shackles underneath the sleeves of your dress. Convinced that you were probably beaten at some point and treated like a prisoner before being wed to her, Ningguang tore those chains off in a fury, kneeling down in front of you and holding your small hands within her claws… You didn’t expect such tenderness from the tall, draconian-looking woman, yet your wife had taken the liberty of looking up at you, showing the respect she had for you as she kissed your bruised wrists with her lips.

“I will not let them hurt you anymore.” She whispered under her breath, and from that day on, you lived with Ningguang as her prized bride, realizing just how much she cared for you in comparison to the people of your hometown. Accepting her warm embrace, you spent your days as her wife being spoiled beyond belief by Ningguang and all her riches. The dragon woman loved to adorn you in the softest silks imaginable, have her jewelry draped across your beautiful body as she kept you curled up against her in her nest. It was clear that Ningguang truly loved you with all her heart, and she was intent on keeping you “marked” with her, till the very end of her immortal life.

Several months had passed of this pure, domestic bliss, until one day, Ningguang began showing signs of entering a rut; a mating period for dragons that gave them the urge to mate. Having sensed when your body had become the most fertile, Ningguang gently nudged your face one night with her nose, humming for her beautiful wife to wake up as she needed to tell you her needs. You were aware that her mating period would be nearing the days of your marriage, however you didn’t expect it to occur in the middle of the night when the both of you were sleeping!

Nevertheless, not wanting Ningguang to spend the rest of the night pent up until you could please her in the morning, you managed to stir yourself awake and sleepily drag your hand down the robe on your dragon wife’s body. Seeing that she was already quite aroused judging by the sight of the two tents stirring underneath her thin clothes, you dipped your hands down to give them a stroke, gently massaging her two cocks while you looked up at her for her expressions.

Breathing heavily, Ningguang stared down at you with those sharp, yet comforting red eyes of hers. “Undress me properly, dear.” She spoke in an authoritative tone, a smirk pulling at her teeth before she flips over to tower over you with her body. Because she was so much taller than a regular human, she loomed over you like a dark shadow, eyes glowing a fiery red, as she helped you slip off her robe and reveal her slim, yet well toned body.

Agile that she was, your wife quickly made work of pulling your nightgown off, kissing your neck and letting her two cocks drip their precum down to lubricate your thighs. Just like her body, lithe and slim, her cocks were just the same; on the slimmer side, yet still quite long with the way they hit against your cunt during your intense make out session with your lover.

Using her long fingers to massage your folds and get you wet enough to take both her lengths, Ningguang leaned down to whisper into your ear, unable to contain herself as she practically purred. “Such a good wife…so wet and warm for me…” She chuckled darkly at the way you got even wetter at her praise, your wife deciding that you were ready and pulling your legs closer to her so that they could wrap around her hips. In one swift move, Ningguang pushed the first tip in, spearing open your folds as her second cock rested just above your pelvis, still dripping precum onto your skin while she got you to adjust to her first penetration.

It’s no secret that dragons were big, strong creatures, yet when it came to their dick size, they surely put humans to shame. At the feeling of being stuffed full by just one of Ningguang’s cocks, you felt as if you were being engulfed by her entire body, your wife grunting and biting your neck as she slowly thrusted her hips into you at a slower pace. Each drag of her hips left the ribbed texture of her shaft rubbing wonderfully against your walls, making you whimper softly into your wife’s ear as she eases her way deeper into you, forming a small but noticeable bulge in your stomach.

Hours would go by of Ningguang just folding you in half. Breeding you, fucking you, just claiming you as hers over and over again as she filled your womb with her seed. It seemed that your wife could go on for even days, but at one particular orgasm, something felt different. As she shot yet another hot load through your womb, you felt a sudden burning sensation on the skin above where your womb would be. At your surprised yelp for help, Ningguang stopped her movements and immediately opened her eyes, staring down at you before gasping at the mark that had appeared on your skin.

A womb tattoo had appeared, an emblem unique to Ningguang’s status as a dragon, as it showed that the rut had successfully claimed you as Ningguang’s mate. Too happy to even care about the sex at the moment, your dragon wife immediately peppered your face in kisses and wrapped her long tail around your body, still sheathed inside you whilst she trailed the mark with her fingers.

“Bounded forever by this mark, I promise you will be spoiled beyond recognition, my love.” She whispered, wanting to be as close to you as possible, as your body had long accepted being the dragon’s mate a long time ago. The matter of her sex drive was no longer on the mind of the insatiable dragon, but the thoughts of actually having a future with you, was all that Ningguang needed to think about to satisfy her needs.

YANFEI

A dragon of morals and righteous principles, Yanfei was a dragon that intimidated you with how upright and intelligent she was the first time you met her. Upon first meetings, Yanfei had chosen her human form to greet you at the front entrance of her lair, her stature standing about just one foot taller than you, and having patches of green scales that littered her smooth skin.

The moment Yanfei laid eyes on you, the dragon woman immediately tensed up when she lifted up your veil, breath caught in the fiery dragon’s throat, as she never expected her human bride to be this beautiful. Her expression was quite adorable to say the least, a blush adorning the dragon woman’s features as she wiped away your tears that were streaming down your face. “Please don’t cry, my bride. Let me get those shackles off of you. You’re my wife, not my prisoner, I can’t believe they’d hurt such a beautiful thing…”

Though Yanfei was a dragon of morals and the law, it was evident that despite the calm exterior of her expressions, Yanfei was practically bubbling with anger. If she could, she would head down to your village to burn everything to a crisp for treating you so horribly, but because that was considered “unlawful” in her eyes, she settled for just having your abusers scorched to a cinder, while you were kept protected in her lair.

Of course, she’d never tell you she’d do that outright. Instead, Yanfei just keeps you in the safety of her den, surrounded by a library of law books from every time period and region of the world. When you showed even the slightest interest in reading one of the books from her massive collection, your dragon wife’s tail began wagging with how excited she was to show you and teach you the ways of the law. Whether or not you were genuinely interested in learning about the law is up to you, but it was worth it to see such a high and mighty dragon get so giddy and seat you in her lap, reading to you all the different laws she could find while stroking your stomach affectionately.

Domestic life with your dragon wife is quite the pleasure if I do say so myself. Yanfei often spent her time with you curled up in her nest, one hand on your stomach while she spooned you from behind with her long tail wrapped around your thighs. Sometimes the two of you would get frisky with each other as Yanfei had a surprisingly high libido, but it usually only ended up with Yanfei fingering you from behind, or you giving her a small handjob while you read law books together in the safety of her nest. It never usually escalated from that, however things started changing around the springtime of your marriage…

This time, what usually was your “cuddling time” had turned into more of a “humping time” as Yanfei started to get more turned on when the seasons changed. Sensing that a rut was on the horizon, Yanfei whispered into your ear that it was time to claim you as hers once and for all, grinding her erections against your rear while breathless whimpers left her lips.

Eager to please your horny dragon wife, you turned around in her grasp and palmed her stiffie through the thin fabric of her clothes, adoring the way she growled with pleasure under her breath, suddenly pinning you down due to the draconian instinct of wanting to breed you right away. When you let out a surprised noise at her sudden string of dominance, Yanfei’s bright green eyes flickered with desire, steam leaking past her teeth with how hot her breath was, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t the least bit turned on at how hot this all was…

Fangs protruding from her teeth, Yanfei marked your body from your neck, all the way down to your tummy. With your clothes now strewn off, you got to see the mouthwatering sight of Yanfei’s two cocks just dripping with need, eager to slot themselves inside you and breed their wife silly with their warm, hot, seed. After a bit of prep, your dragon wife slowly slid herself in, her cocks a bit smaller, but on the girthier side when it came to actually fitting herself in.

With each thrust, Yanfei grunted and practically lifted your hips off the bed to fuck deeper into your cunt, serpentine tongue lolling out of her lips, as she couldn’t help but groan at the feeling of a tight, human pussy clenching so desperately around her. She wasn’t used to this, but hell did it feel so good. Pounding her hips into your thighs and purring at the way her cocks made a bulge in your stomach from how deep she was going inside of you.

It wasn’t long before your dragon wife finally reached her high, shooting her hot, thick load into you and successfully breeding you for the very first time. You felt the burn of a womb tattoo successfully mark itself on the stomach of your body, and at the blissful sigh of pleasure, Yanfei cooed before kissing the mark with her lips and carefully nibbling on it to show her love. A lovestruck expression on the young dragon’s face, as she was extremely pleased to have her bride finally marked down for herself.

GANYU

One of the friendliest dragons that resided in Teyvat, rarely anyone is afraid of the dragon named “Ganyu.” The first time you met, Ganyu took on a very gentle and mature form that gave her the appearance of a beautiful, petite, woman. In fact, everything about her was beautiful. From her form, to her lair, to her whole personality as well. Never in your life had you encountered such a caring and gentle “beast,” as Ganyu made sure that you were very comfortable on the first night of your wedding day.

When you first entered her lair, you were astonished to see just how homely it was. Ganyu had taken up the precaution of setting up human-like furniture for you. There was a lavish bed instead of a nest, paintings that adorned the walls instead of crystals, and even a nice, luxurious bath in contrast to a dragon’s usual hot spring. It seems that your new wife was very well prepared in ensuring your utmost comfort, and just seeing how she fidgeted nervously, hoping for your approval, was enough to have your heart beating at how romantic this dragon could be.

Even Ganyu’s dragon form wasn’t terrifying to say the least. While you’ve heard of dragons who were as big as islands, capable of obliterating villages in one, foul breath, Ganyu was quite the fluffy little dragon. She took on the form of a very soft and cuddly creature, just a giant ball of fluff that oozed such warm temperatures. As her wife, you had the luxury of curling up next to her dragon form every night to sleep with, and your dragon wife made quite the wonderful pillow if you did say so yourself.

All in all, living with your dragon wife was a surprising dream come true. She was gentle, protective, soft and sweet with the way she cared for you during your marriage. Domestic life with her was like living on cloud nine itself, but things started to change when springtime rolled around, as you found your wife starting to act more…distant for some reason.

Several times throughout the night, Ganyu would get up from her slumber to go somewhere in the woods and then come back. When you finally confronted her about this, she blushed and nervously admitted that the reason she kept leaving so often in the night was to “relieve” herself of her sexual frustrations. It had struck you then and there that it was Ganyu’s mating season now, and the poor woman had been spending her ruts alone as she didn’t want to freak you out or make you feel uncomfortable!

Ohhhhh poor Ganyu. Even as you were talking, there was a small tent beneath her clothes. She was just so aroused and pent up, but even then she thought about your comforts rather than her own instincts and lust. When you told her how you would be more than willing to help her out, that was all Ganyu needed to hear before excitedly pouncing on you and pinning you down on the bed. Too excited to control her own strength.

Admittedly, Ganyu didn’t seem like the type of woman with a big size. You were wrong. The moment those robes came off, you were met with the sight of two, girthy, hemipenes. Not long at all, but very thick in circumference. You could barely wrap your fingers around them when you tried to give her a hand job, and poor Ganyu was in awe at how small human hands could be in comparison to a dragon’s size. She was terribly worried for your pussy when she realized just how small you were, but the huge difference in your size was one of the biggest factors in turning her on in the first place.

Oh, Ganyu was big. It took almost a half hour of prep but somehow she managed to squeeze both her cocks inside of you. One in your pussy and one up your ass. It was extremely uncomfortable at first, but Ganyu was (as always) super patient and understanding, almost immediately wanting to pull out the moment you showed signs of discomfort. When you wanted to carry on however, oh; she was so smitten. To see her human wife being so determined to take her two draconian cocks, wanting to make dear Ganyu feel the relief she’s been waiting for, oh it made her feel over the moon with how much she loved you…

After a few more minutes of praise and sweet kisses, Ganyu would start to move. She was so startled at how tight a human could be during the mating process, yet she wouldn’t lie and say she wasn’t the least bit turned on. In fact, as she slowly began to move, your tight holes squeezing her so blissfully, Ganyu began letting out breathless moans before thrusting a bit faster into your body. Each push of her hips felt like heaven to you the more you got used to it, and soon you found yourself cumming over her cocks several times throughout the mating process.

When Ganyu finally reached her first climax, cum gushing through your womb, the seal of your mating ritual had finally appeared on your tummy. A sign that Ganyu was your forever mate, bound by your love, and the moment Ganyu saw that you had been claimed, she practically cried tears of joy. “You’re mine…you’re actually mine…!” She couldn’t help but laugh, leaning down to kiss your new womb tattoo. “Thank you for allowing me to be your wife, my human bride…”

XIANYUN

A dragon of the sky, who lived high up in the mountains where no man lived, was a dragon that very few people have ever seen with their own two eyes. A mysterious yet elder dragon of the heavenly dragons, Xianyun was the one you were chosen to be a bride for, and waiting so high up the mountains for her arrival almost made you lightheaded with how little oxygen there was in the first place. Already stress-ridden with the thought of being a dragon’s bride on top of such low oxygen levels, you were on the verge of passing out while waiting for your wife, nearly toppling over if not for the gentle hands that cupped your face.

Upon feeling someone lift up your veil and caress your cheeks, you remember looking up and seeing a mature looking woman with piercing blue eyes. You were too weak to do anything, say anything even, but the moment you locked eyes on your dragon wife, she leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on your lips, breathing out a cold, whispery breath that brought air to your lungs. Now filled with the oxygen you needed, your wife wiped the tears from your face and let you rest against her, muttering under her breath. “Human mortals are such delicate creatures. Can’t even breathe properly when the altitude is high…”

Though it sounded condescending, Xianyun placed a kiss on your forehead and brought you into her domain. It was clear that despite her disdain for the humans of this mortal realm, she had a soft spot for the delicate beauty that was you. Her bride to be as she wanted to make sure that you were comfortable in her homeland above the mountains. She cared about you so much in fact, that even after kissing you to give you a spell that’ll allow you to breathe at high altitudes, Xianyun summoned an eternal wind current to regulate the oxygen levels of the mountain. All for you, and only you.

Your dragon wife was a cold one. She gave off a blunt, almost bitter vibe that elderly women seemed to give off. Yet you knew she loved you underneath all that cold exterior, curling up around you with her long, lithe dragon body in bed, feeding you medicinal herbs whenever you got sick, and even bringing you with her on her travels by allowing you to ride her back as she flies. Although she didn’t show it much, you were her most precious lover, and throughout her immortal life, she has never been so infatuated with a human woman like you before…

It wasn’t long before the seasons changed, and your bond with Xianyun grew deeper. Though still somewhat cold and blunt, you saw her begin expressing more shows of affection. Wrapping her arms around you and stroking your thighs with her clawed fingers, you realized that Xianyun began getting more friskier than normal, something hard and firm pressing up against your rear whenever she hugged you from behind. She was not ashamed at the slightest, whispering under her breath into your ear, “My wife, I wish for a family of our own. As I am entering the mating season of this year, please give me the honor of breeding you with my kin.”

Ah, Xianyun. Only she can make something like asking for sex, very romantic yet awkward at the same time. Though you laughed at how she phrased her request at first, you gladly obliged and let the dragon woman take you to bed, letting her maturity and experience guide you for the mating process. Xianyun was no virgin, after all she was an immortal, however; she found your inexperience absolutely adorable, as she slowly stripped off all your clothes and took in the breathtaking sight of her human wife before her.

She never found humans to be that pretty, but the sight of you was just too gorgeous to take in. Immediately once your clothes were off, Xianyun’s two lengths began to rise with need, erect and aroused with how vulnerable you looked under her gaze. You were just so…small. So small and cute under the shadow of her body, and Xianyun was eager to dig in. Breath hitching when she moved herself forward, sliding her cocks into you while groaning with pleasure.

Like her daughters, Xianyun was on the bigger side, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to take you all the way to the edge, gently massaging your hips as she slowly thrusted forward. She grumbled deeply about something like how she wanted you to bear her children, wanted to see your belly all pregnant with her hatchlings, it was just too much for you to bear and you found yourself gripping the older woman with need.

Upon feeling your hands holding onto her so desperately, it was like a switch had been flipped in your wife. She immediately pushed you down into a mating press and began thrusting at an even faster pace, dragging the rigid veins of her cocks in and out of your hole(s), and making you melt in her arms from the overwhelming bliss.

With one last growl, Xianyun slammed her hips further into you and pushed your knees up to meet with your stomach, filling your cunt with hot loads of her cum and making you bear the mark of Xianyun’s sigil. It burned in a way that felt pleasurable at your climax and the moment Xianyun spotted it, a smug smirk appeared on her face before stroking the lines of the mark with her claws. “Looks like this mortal body has accepted me as a suitable mate. I hope I have met your standards, my wife…”

KOKOMI

Chained to a rock near the beach of the seas, you were left to be the bride of the divine sea serpent; Kokomi. Though she was a very gentle and understanding dragon to the people of Watatsumi Island, she was capable of forging wars with other dragons from different regions, making the oceans shake from how brutal her battles were. You were very much scared for your life to even meet such a strong beast, and as you were left chained to the rock, waiting for your future wife, you felt your heart rate spike when you saw the waves part ways for the legendary sea serpent to take what was hers.

Shimmering pearlescent scales with fins that waded through the water, Kokomi emerged in her sea serpent form at first, coursing to a stop when the water grew too shallow. She transformed into her human form to walk the rest of the way, her clothes nearly translucent, glittering under the sun’s rays as she slowly waded towards you with a gentle look in her eyes. “Oh, you must be my bride,” she whispers softly, a curious yet amused tone taking on her voice. “What a very cute human…you’re even smaller than I imagined.”

Even when she was a dragon, her voice was soft and gentle. She patted your head gently before tilting your head up to meet her gaze, dragons were always bigger than humans after all, even in their human forms. “No need to be so scared, it’s time to go home, my bride. I hope you have a strong grip.” She quickly slashes the shackles off of you and eases you onto her back, beginning to waft back out to the waves and transform into her sea serpent form while you clung to her neck for dear life. Kokomi was a very fast swimmer after all.

After the quick introduction to your future dragon wife, you found yourself living amongst Kokomi within a huge, hidden grotto that resided behind a waterfall. Life with Kokomi was…quite intriguing to say the least. Due to being a sea serpent and living near the water, it took some time for you to adjust from living on land, to living somewhere that was almost fully surrounded with water! Your diet mostly consisted of fish and other various seafoods that Kokomi managed to hunt, though if you were unable to eat any of them, it surprised you to say the least to see that Kokomi would go out of her way to buy human foods from a nearby market, in order to satisfy your needs. If you needed anything, literally anything at all, you didn’t even need to leave the safety of her lair, as Kokomi would do it for you. Even though she was considered a “higher deity” in Teyvat.

Life was peaceful with Kokomi as your wife. She made sure to spoil you with everything you could ever ask for, and soon you found yourself falling in love with the gentle sea serpent. As the months slowly passed by and your love only blossomed even further, you began to notice signs of Kokomi getting more antsy as the seasons changed. She’s told you about this before, about how dragons (specially sea serpents) enter a rut-like process once every few months, but you didn’t expect it so soon. Nevertheless, you were fully prepared to help your wife ease up all tensions and stress, and the two of you set out to prepare for your “love making” in a special place…

Clothes stripped off before you could reach the sacred grounds, Kokomi took you to a hidden lagoon where sea serpents often took their mates to claim them for the first time. Seeing that it was not occupied at the moment, Kokomi helped ease you into the warm waters of the lagoon, guiding you to the middle before pressing her agile, lithe body against yours, causing her two cocks to rub up against your thighs.

She cooed softly at you before planting kisses along your neck, admiring the way your soft, human skin felt underneath her own. Kokomi was entranced, massaging your thighs to get them to open up, before whispering in a hushed tone into your ear. “This might hurt, but I promise I’ll go slow…” giving you one last kiss before sliding herself inside of you…

By no means was Kokomi huge, but two cocks was two cocks and you felt yourself being stuffed to the brim. As she slowly sheathed herself inside of you all the way down to her base, Kokomi let out an exasperated gasp before gripping your hips tighter from behind. She was blushing madly from how good you felt, all tight and warm wrapped around her, and she was beginning to get delirious from just how good your holes were, gripping her so needily.

Her thrusts were shallow, yet addictive. Pounding into you quietly as the water sloshed around you with her soft movements. This “dangerous” sea serpent that people had told you stories about was currently whimpering into your ears out of pure ecstasy. Trembling while she fucked you from behind, as trails of precum leaked from both her cockheads to further stimulate your senses. Thanks to being a sea serpent, her body was naturally very slippery and wet, so fucking you deeper and faster was no hard order for Kokomi to do.

So many dirty, wet squelches filled the air alongside your moans of blissful pleasure. Kokomi was getting close, whining behind you before finally ejaculating her seed into your womb. At the sudden sensation of the sea serpent’s cum filling your crevices, the mark of Kokomi bore itself onto your stomach, causing your wife to smile with pride at how you easily accepted her as her “mate.” “Well would you look at that, it seems like it only took the first try for your body to recognize me as a suitable companion,” Kokomi chuckled. “Well, who says we should just stop here, my love? Raise your legs a bit higher, I want to breed you some more…”

Unlike the other dragons, Ei was a dragon that was given sacrifices every twelve years, not in exchange for good fortune or success, but so that she wouldn’t get angry and destroy the villages with her rage. The people in your region were deathly afraid of Ei for the sole reason that she could wipe out their entire population, so when she asked for a bride this year instead of the usual treasures they offered her, they basically sent you on a deathbed to meet your inevitable fate.

Knowing that you were sent to a brutal tyrant of a dragon to be her “bride,” you had accepted your death a long time ago. Waiting idly in front of the dragon’s lair, you braced yourself for a whole world of pain when you saw your “wife” begin to approach you. With tears streaming down your face from how terrified you were of dying, you nearly screamed when Ei suddenly lifted up your veil, eyes paralyzed with fear as you met the cold, dark eyes of your wife. When she raised her hand to get closer to your face, you expected a hard slap. However, what came in contact with your cheek was a soft, gentle touch that felt juxtaposing to how large and battle-stricken her hands were.

Rough calluses was the first thing you felt against your cheek, and then the feeling of Ei’s large fingers wiping away your tear-ridden face. It was the complete opposite of what you had expected the dragon woman to do to you, but you were too afraid to comment on anything when she took you inside her lair to get you away from the cold.

Life with a tyrannical dragon wife was very…unique, to say the least. She was not as sweet, or gentle as any of the other dragon women, but she showed how much she cared for you with acts of service rather than physical affection. Though quiet when expressing her love for you, Ei would always feed you the best and biggest portions of her hunt whenever you two sat down and ate together. Ei would make the thunderstorms quiet down when she saw that they were bothering you in your sleep, and she would even cease the storms entirely if that was what you wished.

Not only that, but your dragon wife was fiercely protective over you. The other dragon women would be territorial, sure. But Ei was on a whole different level. Anything that threatened you, her bride, would be faced with the full wrath of one angry, tyrannical dragon wife, and the thing (or person) that threatened you in the first place, would be blasted to smithereens by her thunderous breath alone. Though she was very violent and quite scary at times whenever you witnessed her destruction, you knew she cared deeply about you and that’s really all that mattered.

Alas, as the seasons changed, not even the stoic and tyrannical dragon was immune to the mating cycle that all dragons went through in a year. She tried to keep it to herself so you didn’t have to find out, but it was near impossible as Ei would constantly have a massive boner under her clothes, every time she woke up with you right next to her. Unable to take it anymore, she quietly requested for you to “mate” with her, in order to satisfy her instincts, and you being the sweet little wife that you were, agreed since you didn't want her to suffer on her own through such an intensive rut.

Ei was big. Like, very big when she first disrobed herself in front of you. Her tall stature was very lean, athletic, strong, and that corresponded with her dick size as well. Lean, tall, and strong. You found yourself salivating a bit when you saw just the sheer size of her, a bit intimidated, but very turned on to have her all to yourself.

Your wife wanted to be gentle. She saw humans as the most fragile thing in the world, so when she lifted you up into her arms, your naked body pressing against hers, she blushed for the very first time, realizing just how big she was in comparison to you. At the recognized size difference, her two hemipenes twitched to life, erect and swollen to stuff themselves in your cunt, while poor Ei was left gaping at how turned on she was. With her strength alone, she slowly slid you down to fuck you in middair. Your legs dangled helplessly over her thighs as you whined from the burning stretch, a small bulge forming under the skin of your tummy from how engorged Ei was when fucking inside of you.

Eyes landing on the small belly bulge, you felt Ei growl with predatory instinct, keeping you held tightly against her while she pounded into your holes. Each thrust left you bouncing helplessly in the air, clinging to Ei’s broad shoulders while her cocks dragged their ribbed lengths in and out of you like a toy. The feeling of it was just too much, leading you to orgasm multiple times in just under an hour, and the wetter you got, the easier it was for Ei to go faster, harder, deeper. It was all too much for your small human cunt to handle, and the deeper she went, the more you clenched down.

It took a while, but when Ei finally reached her first climax, boy was it a big one. Your entire lower body shivered as she spurted ropes of hot cum deep into your womb, your legs trembling as she burned her way into your body with her seed, and making a large womb tattoo engrave itself on your skin. As the mark appeared, Ei showed signs of pride and ownership, growling under her breath before biting your neck lovingly to seal the deal. “Mine…” was all she said in that dark, husky tone of hers, as she continued to pound her way into you for another round of mating.

#ningguang smut #ningguang x reader #yanfei smut #yanfei x reader #ganyu smut #ganyu x reader #xianyun smut #xianyun x reader #kokomi smut #kokomi x reader #ei smut #ei x reader #raiden ei smut #raiden ei x reader #dragon au #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin women smut #genshin women x reader

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rainydetectiveglitter · 1 month ago

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Astro Notes

🌞 Sun in the 1H — The Sun finds its strength here (considered a "place of visibility"). You’re meant to be seen and recognized, and your life feels aligned when you’re expressing yourself boldly. Themes of leadership and self-realization dominate your journey—this is the chart of someone destined to carve their own path.

🌙 Moon in the 5H — The Moon rejoices in the 5th house, so this placement brings a natural affinity for creativity, pleasure, and children. Your emotional state thrives in spaces of joy and self-expression, but watch out for getting lost in indulgence or romantic idealism.

🗣 Mercury in the 12H — Mercury here suggests hidden or esoteric knowledge. This is the chart of someone with insights that go beyond the material world. Your speech and thoughts may feel isolated or introspective, but you’re gifted with a knack for unveiling truths hidden in plain sight. Potential for prophecy or dream work!

💖 Venus in the 2H — A placement tied to Aphrodite’s love for material beauty. Venus here blesses you with a natural allure and ability to attract wealth or possessions. Harmony in relationships may stem from shared values or building something tangible together.

🔥 Mars in the 8H — The eighth house signifies taboos, shared resources, and mortality, making this a fiery yet transformative placement. You face challenges head-on, especially in areas others shy away from. Battles over inheritance, intimate bonds, or spiritual power may define key parts of your story.

💫 Jupiter in the 10H — A classic "kingmaker" placement. Jupiter elevates your public life, granting you charisma and the ability to inspire. Benefic fortune arrives when you pursue roles of authority or influence aligned with your principles. Jupiter in the 10th can also signify divine protection over your reputation.

⏳ Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, and Pallas in the 2H — A heavy emphasis on the 2nd house ties your material possessions to themes of duty (Saturn), disruption (Uranus), illusion (Neptune), and strategy (Pallas). You’re navigating the weight of what you own or value—learning to master a balance between control and letting go is crucial.

🕳 Pluto in the 12H — The 12th house governs things unseen—Pluto here is akin to Persephone's descent into the underworld. Deep, subconscious transformations may shape your life path. Spiritual growth occurs through surrender, forgiveness, and diving into your shadow self.

🌐 Chiron in the 9H — The 9th house deals with philosophy, travel, and belief systems. With Chiron here, you might struggle with your faith or find your worldview shaken by personal wounds. However, these experiences push you to share wisdom and inspire others on their own paths.

💍 Juno in the 8H — Relationships for you are not surface-level. Juno in the 8th craves deep, binding intimacy. Themes of merging and transformation play out in partnerships—this isn’t a placement for lighthearted romance. Think soul contracts over fleeting connections.

🔥 Vesta in the 1H — Vesta in the Ascendant makes you a keeper of the flame. There’s something sacred about your individuality and presence. You may dedicate much of your energy to self-discipline or perfecting your identity, often attracting those drawn to your purposeful aura.

🌀 Node in the 1H — Your destiny pulls you toward asserting independence and finding your voice. The past may tether you to partnerships or codependent tendencies, but growth lies in carving your own road.

🐍 Lilith in the 3H — The "dark goddess" in the house of communication shows a razor-sharp tongue and an unapologetically raw way of speaking. Themes of rebellion might arise in sibling relationships or education. Words become a tool of both power and seduction.

💰 Fortune in the 8H — True prosperity comes from transforming life’s challenges into opportunities. You might gain unexpected financial blessings or have a knack for finding luck in the darkest corners of life. This is an alchemist’s placement—your fortune thrives in rebirth.

#astrology #astro community #astro blog #astrologers #astronotes #astral #asteroids #astro observations #astro.com #birth chart #astro notes #astrology observations #placements #horoscope #ascendant #rising #astro seek #astro com

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azen13 · 22 days ago

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CW: Yandere Themes, Imprisonment, Mentions of Starvation

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Something I think we don't talk about enough is how interesting Yandere!Zhongli would be in the past, when he took a more active role in Liyue's rule, under the name Rex Lapis. More specifically, I continuously go back to the idea of Rex Lapis falling in love with one of his most loyal mortal worshippers.

Every day, he can hear your prayers floating across stilled air, stirring up the more draconic instincts in his heart. Such beautiful songs, all for him. Your prayers alone are the greatest blessings he's ever received in all his years as Liyue's Archon, but you've also given him frequent offerings, from grains harvested to jewels mined. Sometimes he cannot help but feel concerned, hoping you're not living in squalor due to your unceasing devotion.

Every night, he enters your dreams and claims them as his own. He never reveals himself, but he stages scenes where he plays the part of the heroic lover, protecting you from harm. For you, it provides protection, soothes your worn mind from labor done during the day. For him, it quells the possessive desire to have you in the palm of his hands, pampered and doted upon, treasured for all eternity.

It isn't enough. Rex Lapis knows it isn't enough, but he pretends as though this little share of your life is satisfactory, even though the depths of his heart stir with displeasure. He wants to be your world in every way.

Luckily for him, he soon gets the opportunity. A famine of unparalleled magnitude—the most devastating disaster Liyue has faced in three centuries—strikes. Not only that, but the heart of the ruin centers around your village. Your prayers become more fervent and frequent. At the sound of your sobs, he can't hold the draconic side of himself back. Rex Lapis may not be Morax, but like his past self he is neither mortal nor moral, and does not abide by the laws of humans. Freedom is not a blessing to be granted, but a cantrip to contain by means of contracts and laws.

That very night, when he comes into your dreams, it is with the sole intent of coercing you into his private adeptal domain. Go with him, and not only will he protect you for eternities upon eternities, but he will protect your village—and all who you love within it—with his life.

The only price you must pay for such a bargain is with your freedom.

Don't worry though. Should you decline, Rex Lapis would be remiss to bind you to him through force. No, he'd much rather let you learn the consequences of contumacy, the many follies of freedom you seem to cling to with such pitiful desperation. Instead, he'll let the days pass by, every second wasted avoiding an inescapable outcome. While those you hold dear begin to grow weak and starve, by some miracle, you stay strong.

Each night, visions of luxurious domesticity pass across your eyes, as thick and syrupy sweet as honey. After the montage, Rex Lapis returns, contract in hand and a knowing smile playing on his lips. Though he says no words, his argument is clear as day: should you agree to fulfill your destiny, your village will need not fear the threat of famine ever again.

Finally, as expected, you crack. The minute the quill you write with leaves the parchment, you find yourself transported from one dream to the next: a picturesque diorama surrounds you, the landscape a perfect replica of Liyue's scenery. A few yards in front of you rests a house as big as your village. "Our home", Rex Lapis tells you, his expression indulgent, though you see in his eyes the depths of his devotion and what lies within them: an insatiable desire to possess you wholly.

"Where you will stay. Forever, my treasure."

#genshin x reader #yandere zhongli #zhongli #zhongli x reader #yandere genshin #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere drabble #yandere imagine #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x you #yandere zhongli x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin imagines #genshin #genshin x you #genshin impact

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lxvebun · 9 months ago

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A millennium of unsaid I love you's

Synopsis: love is the most twisted curse of all. Yuuji wonders if it's twisted enough to have even Sukuna in its grip.

Content: Sukuna x gender neutral reader. Fluff+little angst. Lovesick!sukuna, I repeat, Lovesick!Sukuna he's so in love with you it shows in everything he does!! Mentions of character death but its open for you to decide. Slight mention of canon violence. Around 1k words♡ eng is not my first language, lmk if there are any annoying mistakes♡♡

"Have you ever been in love?" Yuuji wonders out loud, not necessarily expecting a serious answer. It's a little past midnight if he's reading the blurry red numbers on the digital clock correctly, and despite sleep clouding over his eyes, he can't seem to find rest. Blankets are carelessly kicked to the edge of the bed in an effort to relieve himself from the summer heat but it doesn't do much to help him ease into that sleepy state either.

(Talking to Sukuna seemed a lot more interesting than counting sheep)

The question hangs in the air for a moment, silence twists around it like a vine, and just before it completely swallows it up, the answer floats across his mind similar to a thought but eerily spoken in a different voice.

"Yes"

It's said quietly, almost as if trying to maintain the tranquility of the summer night, but this is Sukuna we're talking about. He doesn't take others into consideration. There's something else that keeps him from voicing his answers out loud.

(Perhaps it's the way he can't talk about you without sounding like a love-sick devotee)

"How!?" Yuuji blurts out before thinking, not realizing the question is rather rude until a sharp flash of pain surges through his body, a little corrective behavior sent from Sukuna, no doubt. "Sorry, sorry. I just didn't expect it, that's all.

It's quiet for a bit. Yuuji takes the time to admire the stars and moonlight shining through the sliver of the curtains. It feels like the moon is extra radiant tonight as it spills a wonderful illuminative light across the room.

"I don't know"

There's not much he doesn't know, but to this day it's still a miracle to him that you weaved yourself so effortlessly into his very being. Managing to do so without an ounce of resistance from him. Partly believing you were some kind of heavenly punishment sent to bring the king of curses to his knees. To rid the world of a darkness that never should have existed in the first place.

(He'd let you)

"I just was"

There's another part of him that theorizes that maybe you were something that remained of his human self. A soulmate to complete his when his soul wasn't half as dark and twisted as it is now. Born from the same star, hearts carved from the same moon. A red string binds you to him, regardless of the form he takes. How cruel of fate to tie you to a monster and keep it that way.

Quietness tunes back in as Yuuji's thoughts drift elsewhere. For a second, Sukuna thinks he's done with his late-night interrogation.

"What were they like?"

He's not indulging Yuuji, really. But his heart beats back a little warmth into his soul every time he thinks of you. Every time he thinks of your voice, how his name sounded so syrupy and sweet falling from your lips, a stark contrast to how it's usually uttered.

Every time he thinks of your touch, how you always handled him with a gentleness he probably doesn't deserve. As if under all the scars and cursed markings he was made of the most delicate porcelain. Even when you were angry, it never bled violence into your touch.

Gods, your entire being shined so brightly he could pick you out from among the stars. You dug yourself into his chest, ripped out his darkened heart oh so deliciously, and buried yourself in its place. As if you always belonged there.

Just thinking of you stains his mouth all too sweetly, a millennium of unsaid I love you's building up in the back of his throat. He swallows it down.

"They were beautiful" he speaks aloud this time, voice booming around the room. Yuuji flinches a little at the intrusion "And that's enough of your questions tonight, brat"

"Just one more, please"

.....

Yuuji takes the silence as compliance.

"Are they gone?" He puts it into softer terms. Sukuna's a little annoyed at the consideration.

He doesn't know... and he's not sure what hurts more, being oblivious to your fate, or assuming that you have passed. Surely, Uraume would have taken care of you. Then again, are they even around still? A dullness grows in his chest, splinters its way through his ribs, and weighs down into his lungs suffocatingly so at the uneasiness of not knowing.

Looking through Yuuji's eyes, he catches a glint of a star beaming down into the split in the curtain. Shining an ethereal light so brightly he has to avert his gaze.

( he could pick you out amongst the stars. He refuses to believe it's you)

The ache lessens again as the starlight seems to clear his head. You're bound to him by a string of fate, there's not a single universe out there where you're not with him. Even if it's cruel of fate to do so, even if those thousand years apart have turned him into someone almost unrecognizable. You'll be together again. Perhaps your soul is just waiting for the right moment to appear.

"they'll be back" is all he says, and the finality in his tone urges Yuuji to keep his mouth shut despite the whirlwind of questions still racing through his mind. Memories that don't belong to him flicker through Yuujis's mind as Sukuna seems to dream off. They're blurry and foggy and disappear all too quickly for him to make sense of what he's seeing, but he can feel the overwhelming presence of love dripping from the edges. He doesn't question why his heart starts to race too.

Sukuna has been a rot in his side from day one. but if there ever exists an opportunity to save everyone, if he could give him his happy ending should you come back, he thinks he'll grant it to him.

Thank you for reading angels!!♡ i had a lot of fun writing this so I hope you enjoyed this too!

#jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #sukuna fluff #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x gn reader #jjk fluff #jjk angst #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #sukuna x gender neutral reader #soft sukuna #jujustu kaisen #jjk

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permanentlyfemale · 4 months ago

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⚠️ Feminization, Misgendering, Forced detrans kink ahead! ⚠️

Today is a scary day for you. As a trans man, finding the right therapist is far more difficult than it is for most people, especially as you weren’t looking for just a new therapist today. You also need someone to write you a top surgery letter. Although you’ve only been on T for 2 months, barely enough to notice anything besides an increased libido and clit growth, your breasts are by far your biggest source of dysphoria. You often wear two binders when you’re going anywhere, and even then, a sizable bump is visible on your chest. You’re hoping they may become easier to bind with hormones, but you already know that you’ll need surgery regardless.

“Milo Brown?” A masculine voice calls your name from across the room. Glancing up, you see a very attractive man, much taller than you, looking to be in good shape under his professional attire, but not overly muscular. His dark shoulder-length wavy hair and stubble complement his gentle, masculine face and warm brown eyes.

Surprised by the man’s beauty, you stumble on your words as you rise from your seat. “I- uh- I’m here.”

“Great! Let’s get back to my office.” He smiles warmly and gestures for you to follow him out of the waiting room and down a hallway, passing mostly empty offices on the way. This doesn’t seem too odd, as there was construction on the lower floor. Maybe some patients didn’t like the noise and cancelled? Or maybe you’re trying to distract yourself from thinking of the exceedingly attractive man that may soon be your therapist. You’ve considered yourself gay since coming out, but starting hormones has certainly made that attraction all the more apparent.

As he opens his office door, you’re surprised by how casual it is. There’s a long couch next to an armchair, with a clipboard set neatly on top. His desk is to the side, seemingly ignored while clients were present in favor of a more personal layout. Thinking of something to say as you sat on the couch, you spit out “I like your office.”

“Thank you Milo, I spent a lot of time thinking of the anatomy of the room and how to make my clients most at ease. I find this works best.” He smiles at you, his eyes gentle and enticing. “I’m Dr. Sterling, I specialize in support for LGBT and FTM clients. Nice to meet you! Tell me a but about yourself and what brings you here.”

“My name is Milo Brown, I’m 19 years old, and I just started testosterone. I’ve been out as trans for a while but finally got access to hormones and I’m hoping to get top surgery as well, but I need a letter for it. I also just need support with my dysphoria and depression.” You cross your arms over your large chest self-consciously.

“Well, that’s nothing I haven’t heard before. Can you tell me more about your dysphoria regarding your chest?”

Shifting uncomfortably in your chair, you hesitantly proceed. “Every day is awful! They’re the first thing I think about when I wake up and I go to sleep trying not to feel or think about them. They’re so big and heavy that I feel them whenever I move and it makes me so dysphoric. It’s also impossible to make myself flat, so I never pass. As a gay man, it’s so hard to find a man who would want a guy with a body like mine!”

“Oh, Milo, I think that’s very negative thinking. Plenty of men would find you attractive! I thought you were quite beautiful when I saw you myself.”

You’re surprised by his words! That sounded very flirtatious, but maybe he was just trying to boost your ego. Either way, it made the empty space between your legs tingle when he said it. You also didn’t know he was queer, but it definitely makes you more comfortable with him. “Well… that does make me feel better. I still don’t feel comfortable with my chest though.”

“Why don’t we try something? This is an exercise I’ve done with plenty of my transmasuline patients before, and it has always improved their lives and helped with dysphoria. While we do it, I can assess you for top surgery as well! How does that sound?” He smiled at you expectingly.

“Uhhh… yeah, that sounds good. What are we doing?”

“I’m just going to have you answer some questions about your body and dysphoria. This may get uncomfortable, but it’s all part of this process. I’m sure you can trust me, right?”

“Of course!” You answer instinctively.

“Right. First, I want you to take off your shirt and binder.” He instructs casually.

“What!? I thought we were just answering questions. Is that necessary?” You’re again surprised, he wasn’t a surgeon and you had never shown anyone your chest before. You didn’t want to look at it yourself, much less this beautiful man you’re expecting to see regularly!

“I understand this is surprising and uncomfortable, but I want to understand your perspective on your body, as well as assess the size and density for surgery. I need to know this for the letter, and I understand this is very important to you. I’m sorry for the discomfort, Milo.” He looked at you apologetically, his brown eyes sparkling, staring in to your soul and shooting down between your legs.

“I… okay.” What he was saying did make sense, and you would do most anything for this surgery. Resolving to just get this over with, you take off your oversized hoodie and throw it on the couch next to you. Grabbing both binders at once, you exert a herculean force squeezing yourself out, panting as your huge breasts fly out. You blush with embarrassment as a loud clap can be heard from them swinging together.

Dr. Sterling calmly walks closer to you. “Do you know your cup size?”

“Uh… no, sorry.”

“That’s alright, we can measure now.” He smiles warmly and pulls out some measuring tape. Without hesitation, he walks up to you and wraps it around your chest! He first measures your underbust before moving to measure your bust. His hands rest on your breasts as he does so. “Alright… looks like you have J cups.” His hand brushes your nipple as he backs away.

“Mmph!” Involuntarily, you let out a short, feminine moan. Both the dysphoria of knowing your overwhelming cup size and your accidental vocalization leave you embarrassed and blushing harder than ever.

“It doesn’t seem like you’ve experienced any vocal changes from testosterone.” He observes.

“Umm… not yet, no.”

“It also seems like you have quite sensitive nipples?”

“I guess…”

“Well, have you ever considered embracing your breasts?”

“Huh?” You were confused. They made you sad and dysphoric, how could you ever embrace them? He did say whatever he was doing worked for all of his other transmasc patients, but this seemed absurd.

“Your breast are way too big to bind properly. I’ve seen you wearing two binders in here, and that is not healthy. As your therapist, I can’t encourage you to damage your body in such a way, and especially without two binders, you wouldn’t be able to hide them at all anyways. And why go through the trouble of binding if everyone can tell? It might do you some good to just accept your body as it is. It’s not like whether you bind now will affect surgery.”

Unfortunately, everything he was saying made perfect sense. Even when binding, it was very obvious you had breasts. Why go through all the trouble, especially if it was hurting your body? You were dysphoric either way, might as well be more comfortable physically. “I guess… I guess you’re right.”

“Yes… unfortunately it’s also not very possible hormones could reduce them to a bindable size either.”

This devastated you. Even later on testosterone, you would have obvious breasts? How could you expect anyone to take you seriously as a man? You had hoped to begin passing in public soon, and finally begin living comfortably, but you weren’t so sure now. Would it even be safe to live as a non-passing trans man? Why were you going through so much for hormones if there was no hope of passing before surgery anyways? Maybe you should just wait until then for hormones- no one will gender you right as you are now. “Maybe… maybe I should pause testosterone until surgery then.”

“Yes, I can see why. That might be the safest option for you.” He nodded solemnly. “We can practice some exercises to reduce dysphoria until then, if you’d like.” His frown shifted in to a comforting smile.

Still upset, you nodded.

He moved closer and, before you could react, placed one hand on each perky, round breast, grabbing you by the boobs.

Surprised, you squeaked.

“This is just to get you used to your breasts. It often helps most when someone else does it, so you’re more comfortable with other people seeing them.” He gently squeezed and pulled, running his fingers along your supple breasts, warm palms pressing your hard nipples.

“Mmmmmm-! Oooh!” You let out a series of feminine wails as the doctor palms at your breasts. They were so sensitive and they felt so heavy- so wrong on your body- and yet they sent waves of pleasure throughout your curvy figure.

“Are you still going to go by Milo? I mean, you’re stopping T until surgery because you won’t be able to pass. It would be weird to only keep the name and pronouns, especially for strangers.” His hands shifted to thumb at your nipples.

Your thoughts were flooded with waves of pleasure shooting from your tits. The importance of this decision didn’t fully register, but what he was saying made sense to you. “You’re right.”

“Good girl.”

“Huhh…”

“People are going to refer to you by what you look like. You know you don’t pass. This is just exposure training, okay?”

“Okay…” You mindlessly agree as he moves his head close to your breast.

“See? You are a good girl.” He starts to suck on your nipple, causing you to throw your head back and wail in pleasure. You don’t know when his own clothes came off, but he’s getting on top of you and pulling your pants off, leaving you in just your boxers with his much larger biologically male body pinning you down, suddenly kissing your lips.

“What… what are you doing now, d-doctor…” he cuts you off as you pant your words out.

“The easiest way to adapt to and accept being seen as a woman is to have sex with a straight man, one who can use you as only male can use female. You need this, Amelia. It’s okay.”

Hearing your deadname makes you cringe with dysphoria. You’ve always felt an aversion towards it, despising the femininity it signaled. You struggle to reconcile your attraction to the doctor and trust in his methods to your current panic. This all felt good and sounded logical but it’s happening too fast to react, and these are all such big decisions, and suddenly he’s pulling your boxers off.

“Your pussy is so perfect. You make such a sexy woman.” He rubs the length of his cock along your clit and hole. The distinction between your pathetic nub and his masculine length is obvious. He gropes your massive jiggling breasts, squeezing them together and lowering his head to kiss and suck your nipples as his dick prods your entrance.

“Doctor Sterling…” You moan his name as his assault on your tits grows heavier. He sloppily makes out with your huge boobs, enjoying every second he can get drowning in your massive breasts.

He momentarily pulls his mouth from your tits. “Yes… fuck, Amelia!” He rams his hard cock all the way inside you, hitting your cervix as he moans your deadname, resuming his assault on your massive wobbling boobs all the while.

You scream and wail, unsure if it’s in pleasure or some mix of dysphoria and grief for your lost ambitions. Whatever male identity you insisted on was currently obstructed by your massive tits and the straight man enjoying them as he pounded in to your soft, tight vagina. Anyone who saw you two would know immediately that this was heterosexual sex- they would never stop to consider you could be anything but a curvy woman being held down and fucked by a handsome man. Suddenly, the doctor’s thrusts sped up. You forgot condoms, and you’re barely on T!

Right as you open your mouth, he interrupts. “I’m gonna cum, Amelia! I’m cumming inside you!” He holds himself against your cervix, comforting you as you begin to scream. “Shhh, good girl, it’s okay.”

You feel his hot cum flood in to your unprotected pussy, tears falling from your eyes. Feeling the sticky cum start to leak out, you manage to speak. “Do… do you have a towel?”

“Uhhh… here!” He grabs your binders and rips them both, turning them in to makeshift towels as he pulls out, along with a flood of cum.

You know you said you wouldn’t bind anymore, but having the option taken away made everything all the more real. You know it was for the best tho. He specializes in helping trans men, and he said this always works. You just have to trust him! As time runs out, you don’t even realize you forgot to finish your top surgery letter.

Still… you couldn’t wait to book your next session.

#detrans kink #detrans me #detransition kink #fakeboy #forced detrans #ftm detrans kink #ftm misgendering #ftmtf kink #ftm correctional therapy #ftmtf cnc #ftmtf breeding #ftmtf nsft

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totallynotastanacc · 1 year ago

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The Cassandra Complex : Chapter X : Geryon

Series Masterlist

(Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Content Warnings: Angst; Lemme say it again for those in the back, ANGST; Hurt/Comfort; Din's kinda being an asshole but he's hot and his dick is 10 inches long and he's also sorry; Dark themes from previous chapters continue

A/N: Hello and surprise and I'm sorry. I promise one day *ONE DAY* they will be happy again!!!

Geryon is my favorite figure in Greek mythology :) He is a very special monster to me :)

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 8.1K

Read on AO3

CHAPTER X : GERYON

Who can a monster blame for being red?

Anne Carson, Autobiography of Red

“We have got to stop meeting like this.”

He’s been pacing back and forth across the hull of the Razor Crest, the metallic jilting song of his heavy gait, the clank, clank, clank, threatening to lull you back into unconsciousness. There should be no comfort to be found in this moment, and yet, just the sound of him is enough for a measure of peace. You can’t believe you’re here right now, lying in your pile of blankets as if no time had passed at all. His anxious pacing had stirred you back into wakefulness, your head all muddied and muffled, your ears seeming to pop into a pressurized silence and then ebb back into clarity.

You feel, suddenly, that you’re more tired than you’ve ever been in your entire life. A bone deep tiredness after a life that’s been too long and too heavy for someone who is, for all intents and purposes, so young.

He whips around at the sound of your voice, snapping forward to loom over you, voice deep with the intent to intimidate, maybe even hurt. “How did you know about him?” He demands without preamble, picking up right where the two of you had left off before you’d stupidly fainted from pain and exhaustion. You shiver and shrink back into the blankets, pressing the tips of your fingers against your mouth to stifle the too loud hiccup of your breathing. You’re not going to be afraid of him, he doesn’t deserve that.

You try to gather yourself, swallowing the bitter nausea that sits heavy on your tongue and push yourself up into a sitting position on shaky, weak arms as he falls with a heavy thud to kneel before you, spits your name, sharp and angry, quickly losing patience. “Who told you about him? What have you heard?” You hold out a warning palm as he leans forward, trying to bully you into compliance with the urgency of his tone.

“Don’t touch–” you warn, and then all soft, helpless hurt and accusation, “You have a son?” And you wish your voice didn’t sound as it does, like a child begging for the truth to not be what it already is, and you won’t cry, you’ve already promised yourself you wouldn’t, but your mind is so weary, your heart so vacant, it’s hard to remember the things you have and have not promised, the things you should and should not do.

“Who told you? You promised you wouldn’t ever rifle through my head, and I swear to the Maker–”

“I can sense him in you,” you snap. “I haven’t been rifling through anything! You’re so annoying. And get back–” you bare your teeth at him in a tiny snarl, nose scrunched with the exertion it takes to push a weak tendril of the Force against his chest and shove him back just barely. If there were a well within you, measured by the will of your strength and power, the Force, it would be bone barren dry right now.

He’d gone and had a child, a son, without you. He’d left you, or let you leave him, what did the details matter anymore – and he’d had a child with someone.

He snatches you up by the elbow, dragging you towards him, weak and shapeless as you are, barely any strength to hold yourself up, much less defend yourself, and his grip is tight enough, punishing enough, that you know it’s meant to cause pain. Harsher than he’d ever handled you before, on the verge of hurting you in a very real way. And after everything that’d been done to you… you’re like a raw, scalded nerve, nowhere left to touch that isn’t covered in hurt. Every inch of your skin screams in pain, and you swallow your moan of agony, trying to suppress your animal sounds. His other hand comes up to grip your jaw, stopping you from twisting away and squeezing the frame of your face so tight in his strong fingers, you feel your bones creak. “Explain. Now.”

“Please, Din,” Please, don’t touch me. “I can– I can sense him– inside you,” you gasp. “He’s strong. He – he has the Force?” You shake your head in his grip, brow folding in on itself, trying to make sense of what it is you’re feeling, the confusing amalgamation of Din and the Force and memories of something, someone young and innocent and pure beyond imagination. Like a well of the Force, of greater depth and strength than you’ve ever encountered before, but viewed, or felt through the veil of his memory, from afar. “You– you still carry him with you.” A child, his child. A little boy, the picture gains clarity in your mind, and then more confusion, as if there were a block in his mind, some protective encasement that keeps the truth of his precious secret safely guarded.

His hands tighten around the curve of your jaw, jerking your face up to force your eyes to look right at him, and he holds you trapped there for one breathless moment, his gaze like this is worse than any torture you’ve endured thus far, burning but hidden, and then the miniscule shift of the helmet, and you feel the light brush of a single finger against the gem of your earring, and you think: It’s so scary out there. Do you recognize me? We used to know each other.

“What the fuck happened to you?”

“Look how strong you’ve become,” you say by way of an answer through your smooshed cheeks and clenched teeth Like an insult more than anything else. “Whatever it was that was done to me… something far worse has happened to you. The great Mandalorian, come to save the poor little Sith, huh?”

His fingers dig into the tender skin of your cheeks, your upper throat, harder, hard enough to squeeze a moan out of you before he’s shoving you back with a revolted scoff, pressing up to his feet to pace away from you again. You’d told him once you didn’t like it when he treated you like this, roughly, all that time ago, and he’d always remembered before now, had always measured himself, but it seemed that two years was long enough for him to forget this.

“You are not a Sith,” he reminds you without turning back, that reminder that he knows what you truly are, perhaps, even better than you yourself know, and you panic for one second that you’ll vomit. But then he gentles: “There’s blood on your earring,” and you sag forward, trying to breathe slowly through your mouth, stretching your eyes as wide open as they’ll go, forcing yourself not to blink so that the tears brimming there won’t fall. I hate you, you mouth the words silently down into the blankets, unsure who it is you’re directing them at.

“You’re going to tell me where the fuck you’ve been,” he says, turning back to pace towards you, hands on his hips, the snap of his cloak as he whips away again, as if he can only stand to look at you for so long. “And what in the Maker’s wrong with you?” He continues. “Did you get into a fight or something?”

You shake your head slowly down at the weave of the blankets. They’re the same ones from before, he’d kept them, and you are so sad and scared and terrible, and when you lift your head back up to look at him, standing just there looking so defeated and suddenly so singularly powerless… You can’t remember what the point of all this was supposed to have been.

“I’ve been here,” you say, for the truth is the only thing left to you now.

“On Corellia?”

“Yes.”

“And you… you can sense him on me?” And his voice has gone suddenly soft, suddenly quiet. A father speaking of his child with care, even in the tone used to address him. All the fight’s gone now, and that tiredness sets in deep where the spirit meets the bone.

You nod, full of so much grief, unbelief that the two of you are here again together, swallowing the gasp that wants to force its way out of you, but you surely can’t help the seeping of it, for there is so much held within your heart when you say up at him with those infernal tears so close to falling: “You had a son with someone?”

He whips back around, pacing finally come to a pause. “With someone? What? N– no. No.” He shakes his head furiously, rushing back towards you, falling back to his knees so that you’re pressing yourself back and away from him. “No, cyar’ika. No. He was a foundling. I– He was a bounty, but along the way he– he became…” He shakes his head again, and you watch the tightening of his fingers around the cap of his knee, the creak of the leather of his gloves as he wrangles his restraint into control, trying not to reach for you. Please, don’t touch. Please, don’t touch. If he takes you in hand, if he puts his hands on you in gentleness or care, you’ll lose. You don’t know how, but you know you’ll be lost. But perhaps the battle is already lost, for when he says, “I would never do that to you. Never with anyone else but you,” it doesn’t matter if he’s touched you or not, the hole in the ground, the two years, the endless, endless darkness and the pleas for something worse, for end or a quiet that doesn’t stop, none of that matters anymore because the battle is lost here and now in this moment.

Your breath comes in painful, sharp pants. The icy air gusting out of the ship's vents turns your breath to hurt in your lungs. You shake your head at him, trying to swallow the barren dryness in your throat away. “You should have.” And you don’t mean to hurt him worse than you already have when you say it. You don’t mean to hurt either one of you. These are words only of sincerity. “That’s what I left you for, so that you could have that.” But you miss the way they’d pulled your bones from your skin as you say it anyways. A terrible lie wrapped in the hopeful intention of truth.

“I would never.” You can imagine he’d used this same tone of voice when he’d sworn his Creed as a child. All staunch honor and unwavering conviction.

You whip your head away at that, unable to bear the sight of him, the sound of him. Even if you want to smell him more than anything. To bury your nose in the crevice between helmet and cowl and inhale deeply right there where the scent of his warmth and sweat and skin is the most concentrated. “Well that’s what I wanted. What couldn’t you understand about me leaving you? You should’ve made your own life. Forgotten me.” Snakelike and spitting and full of venom.

“Is that what you did? Forget? How? Tell me. Tell me so that I might remember for next time.” He stands to pace away again, slow measured steps now. Chewing on a thought, thinking, thinking, and then a death dealing sort of blow when he says, “I could have. I could’ve had all that, you know… There was a woman,” and his voice wavers.

So many terrible things in a terrible, terrible life. You close your eyes to it, accept, even now already, that this is how it should be. You think of your time in your beloved hole, all of your choices that lead you there to such a terrible fate, your time with him, so lovely and so full of light. To have been granted the opportunity to love and be loved, even if you’d never said it, it was the greatest gift the Maker had ever granted you. Such a recompense after everything you’d suffered. The death of your parents, a childhood alone and enslaved and abused, that moment when you’d finally put blade against the only terrible father you’d ever known, the creature who’d put you in chains and ensnared you to this dark fate, master and father and monster all in one, even that had been painful, the taking of your so fiercely desired freedom. And so this now… worse than all the rest, but you’ll accept it too. This is what he deserves. This is why you had let yourself be put away.

“There was a woman,” he says again, voice unsure, uncomfortable. Almost like he doesn't want to, but feels he must. “A time back– we were on Sorgan, and she wanted me… she wanted me.” And he says your name again, softly this time like an apology. “To be with her, to stay with her and her daughter. She wanted us to be a family and I– I considered it… for a moment. What that would be like, to have someone want me to stay with them. To want to make an end with me.” He shakes his head down at you again, from his great height and you break. Fuck acceptance. A condescending sigh and, “You ruined that for me too. You wouldn’t let me, your memory, you wouldn’t let me be with her.”

“I hate you,” you spit through clenched teeth. You wish you had the strength right now to get up and fight him.

“That’s fine. That’s your right. It doesn’t change the fact that she wanted me to be with her, and that I thought about it for one brief, delusional moment,” He sounds like he’s laughing through the modulator, “And then just… couldn’t. I couldn’t, cannot even fathom staying for anyone else that isn’t you.” And the laugh fizzles out into a crack. “How does that make you feel? Powerful?... Over me. Does it make you feel like you have power over me? Like you own me? Like I belong to you?” Now tears, perhaps, like he’d cry if you gave him the chance. Like you’ve hurt him enough to drive him to that. The nausea is back. The need for violence is back. The fucking fire in your back and your skin and all over… why, why did you let them do so much to you? You’d been so stupid. It’d all been such a terrible mistake. You should have never let him go.

“No.” You won’t cry. You won’t cry. “It doesn’t make me feel powerful.”

He suddenly seems to lose all strength. Falling back into a crouch, his knees folding in under him, the clash of the armor against the durasteel floor sharp as a cracking bone.

“Because you do– own me, that is. You do.” And he says it so simply. Like it’s the basest thing in the galaxy, as simple a thing as the birth of new life, the birth of a star, a black hole sucking an entire planet and all life into nothingness, death. Things that are really not simple or base at all.

So you shake your head, refute his truth. “I don’t. I don’t want to – I let you go.”

“But you didn’t. Don’t you fucking see that?” And his voice is gentle, but he slams his fist against the steel floor all incongruous rage, and it echoes and rings between the two of you, his violence. “You didn’t let me go, you only took yourself away from me– left me chained.”

“What was she like?” You cut him off, an envious, ravenous thing all tinged the hue of bile – something poisoned, churning within you. “Was she beautiful? Was she kind? Was she good? All the things you could ever want a woman to be? Would she have promised to stay forever?”

“She wasn’t you.” And oh, how you hate him in this moment. You hate him, you hate him, you hate him. This is guilt, this is punishment, this is retribution of the cosmic sort. Something from the Maker sent to remind you that she who sins shall be made to atone. But haven’t I atoned enough? Haven’t I paid my pound of flesh? This man and that soft heart is your punishment for all you’ve done.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you tell him because there is nothing else to tell. Because it’s the truth, and you are, you’re so sorry that he couldn’t find someone else, someone better, kinder, more alive. And then, because if a thing’s going to hurt, it should hurt all the way, a glutton for punishment but a coward for consequences you ask: “Did you fuck her?”

“I didn’t kiss her.” Consequences. You bare your teeth at him, an approximation of a hiss and a snarl and a howl of grief so ragged it rips through your throat. Folding in on yourself like a dying star you turn your face away, trying to gather yourself and get away from the sight of him.

“I hate you,” you spit the lie again, again and again as many times as necessary until it becomes truth. “I fucking hate you. You should’ve stayed lost, you should’ve gotten sucked into a blackhole for all I care, you fucking asshole. You stupid metal beast! You should have died out there, left me to rot anything, anything but this,” you heave.

“I could’ve had a family.” And you want to ask him why he’s doing this to you. To tell him you don’t deserve such cruelty. But you know that isn’t true.

“Then you should’ve fucking stayed with her.”

“I wish I could have. Instead, I waited for you… I looked for you.”

Blow after blow, and perhaps, you think, this is not cruelty after all, but necessity. There had always been so much left unsaid between the two of you before. Perhaps, it’s finally time only for honesty. “I didn’t ask you to wait for me,” eyes cast down at your hand twisted in the blanket, voice small and pitiful. You have new scars there now, faint and glimmering like cobwebs beneath your skin. They’d wanted to see how much it’d take to leave a mark for good. They’d found their answer.

“You didn’t–” He scoffs, hands braced against his knees he shoves up again and turns in a directionless circle, all coiled tension and so much rage with nowhere to go but the pitiful sac of girl shaped tragedy littering the floor of his ship. He brings both hands up to clutch the curve of his helmet. “You didn’t ask me to? I didn’t fucking ask for this either.” He turns back to shout at you, a real shout this time. One so full of anger it makes you flinch. “You think this is what I wanted? To wait for someone who abandoned me out of pure selfish fear? No. No, it’s not what I wanted either. But how was I supposed to forget?” He asks. “Hm? Tell me. How was I supposed to let it all go? Tell me how you did it, and I’ll go and do the same since you’ve been so successful. Tell me how you did it and I’ll–”

You surge forward on your palms, teeth bared. “I trapped myself in a hole in the ground until I forgot my own name and still I wasn’t able to forget you.”

“What?”

“Oh?” You coo at him, eyes going all wide, you bat your lashes at him mockingly. Your shoulder suddenly feels like it’s about to pop out of its own socket with the way you’re bracing yourself on your arms. “What? You weren’t expecting that?” You sit back slowly, bones creaking. “To know while you were off fucking someone else, wishing for a family, I was trapped in a grave having my skin pulled from my body over and over and–”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m leaving.” You try and push yourself up, clawing at the walls to pull yourself to rights by your fingernails. “I hate you,” you say again, and again you don’t know which of the two of you it is you’re talking to.

He sneaks up behind you, taking you in hand by the elbow again, Maker, your shoulder, and whipping you around to face him, clutching your other bicep to pull you up onto your tip toes and to his level. “What are you talking about?”

You let your weight go heavy and sagging in his grip, head falling back on your neck to look up at him, and he plants his feet firmly apart, locking his arms so that he’s bearing your weight entirely. He gives you a tiny jostle. “You’re exactly as I am, you know? We’ve always been the same. A creature in a mask.”

He’s quiet for a second, confused. His chin tipping to one side and then the other. You know he’s reading you for what you’re worth in this moment, which you must admit is very little. “Is that what this was all about? The whole time? My face?” Your heart goes colder than ice, and you’re glad he’s bearing your weight for you. You think, suddenly, that you’d not have been able to remain upright on your own.

“N– no. No. I don’t care about that. I let it go years ago.”

“Let it go?”

“No. I mean–” Stupid. “Nothing.” Tongue muddled, caught. Terrible.

“But it was something? Then? Answer me.” He jerks you again, harder this time so that your teeth click together.

You shake your head no, but say, “Would you have been okay with it? If it had been you, the one kept in the dark.” Always the dark, again and again. “Would you have been okay never really knowing who I was?”

“You know me, cyar’ika.”

“Don't call me that.”

“You’re the only person in the entire galaxy who ever has.” And his touch is gentle and cradling now, supportive in a different way.

“Would you have been okay with it?” You ask again stubbornly.

“Do you think–”

“You say I’m the one that can’t ever give a straight answer, but you’re just as bad!”

“Do you think,” he repeats more forcefully, talking over you, “That your very first night on the Crest, when I gave you my name, when you told me you could see inside my mind, that I would have stayed had I not understood the reality of what it was we were getting into? What I was getting into? That there was that possibility. You told me, don’t you remember? That you could’ve looked any time. You’ve always had me in the palm of your hand, and I’ve always wanted to be just there.” His thumb starts to move gently up and down the inner slope of your bicep, it’s the first soft touch you’ve felt in two years.

And it was something you’d always known. Of course. The most obvious thing between the two of you, besides the love. You bring your hand up slowly, pinching the lip of the helmet between your thumb and forefinger, tremulous and terrified, you pull him down slowly so that the hard curve meets your forehead in a soft press. The two of you are so still for a moment, shivering, but still. Soaking up the proximity of something so necessary for survival after going so long without. “I should have never left, but a thing isn’t beautiful because it lasts. And I am more sorry than you will ever be able to know. For all of it.”

“Tell me what happened,” he whispers, voice smooth and deep, fathomless through the modulator. You close your eyes and think of the warm cave, the pool of water, the feel of this man that you love moving inside of you, using his body to translate all he’d felt for you with his touch. You think of the amazing ability people have to hurt those they love in ways no one else possesses. It is a cruel realization the business of loving someone brings about, the reality that to truly hurt someone, you must truly know them, and that to know is to love.

“I was taken. Put in a very dark place. Hurt. They tried to make me forget, and I could not help but remember. It was all such a terrible mistake, Din. I made a terrible mistake.”

“Taken? Taken where? By who?” Voice full of panic and urgency. Everything you never wanted him to know. He brings one hand to his mouth, pulling the glove away by the edge of his teeth, and you follow it with your eyes as he lets it fall away, slowly, the dull thud of leather hitting steel, and then his skin, his skin on your face. He cups your cheek in the palm of his hand, and it’s two years of heartache and a terrible noise coming from either one of you, an animal dying or coming to life, something painful and raw. He holds you so gently, and you let so many terrible things happen and now what will the two of you do? How will he ever look at you after he knows everything you’ve done?

Everything you’ve ever done. Your eyes shift upwards again, the black transparisteel T-visor. That last, eternal barrier. That haunting flash of beskar in your mind, buried deep, come to the surface.

“A grave. Zealots. Servants of the Dark side.” You bring your hand up, run a slow, gentle finger along the edge of dark protecting his eyes from you.

“Tell me,” he says gently.

But you shake your head, mouth pursed. Not that. Something else though… “I never looked, you know?”

He knows you mean his face. “Why not?”

“It wasn’t mine to take. Not mine to have. It wasn’t the right time.”

“If there was ever going to be anyone, it would’ve been you.”

“There is one more thing.” Your voice sounds very far away. One of those terrible moments when your life suddenly branches out before you again, and you always know how a thing will end and there was never any other recourse but for the two of you to end up exactly here in this moment from the very first time.

“I killed a Mandalorian once,” you finally, finally tell him. “Many, but there was one worse than all the rest.”

I’ve never met a Mandalorian before, a lie and a truth. You’d never met one you hadn’t killed in the end.

He goes shocked into stiffness, hands rigoring into cold shackles around your arms. They drop from where he grips you. He steps back, and in a way, it is such a relief. The truth you’ve held on the tip of your tongue, the thorn beneath your nail bed for so long, finally come into the light.

“What?”

“Have you– have you ever done something so– so terrible that you regretted instantly? Something you felt in the moment you had no other choice but, and then– and then suddenly clarity sets in, and you realize you could have done everything else but what you’d just done? Wished you could turn back time in that very instant, and go back and change everything?” You press forward to clutch at his cloak, fingers twisting in the coarse fabric to force him to stay with you, but he pulls you away with fingers wrapped around your wrists, steps back again and again.

“I’ve done terrible things–” you whisper, your eyes so wide, terrified of the thing you’re about to confess, of yourself, always, more than anything. “Things that you’d hate me for, if you knew the truth of them. To myself, to others.” You bring your hands up to your throat, wrapping your fingers around yourself there, feeling the patter of your thundering pulse against your palm.

“Tell me,” he says again, and this is the last moment, the last stretch. The end is so near. You will look for relief in this feeling of horror, you decide. Like all other times when you’d been so entrenched in the pain of it all, in fear or loneliness or violence, you’ll look for the relief this confession will grant. Perhaps, absolution will finally be possible by way of confession. Exile, too, surely, afterwards, for you know there’s no way he’ll ever stay with you, look at you, after you tell him of your killing of his people. And you think again, that you have always been a monster, red, but if you’d been given a chance, a choice, then perhaps, you could have served as mantle and protector for a family that had never been afforded to you. You know that he could have been that, that you’ve lost the chance now for good.

“After the fall of the Empire, the Dark and Vader, my master was weak, his acolytes dispersed and felled, their power waning. And for the first time in my life, I saw hope.” Your voice fluttering up with an airy note of that childlike wonder you’d felt in that moment of realization, when you’d recognized what it was you could become in that moment of freedom. “I took it, seized it. I killed him.” You walk backwards, blindly, needing the support of the wall to tell of this. “You know, my first memory is of my master. I can’t even remember my parents anymore. And he was never kind, surely. Never gentle, and caring only in a way that served him. But I belonged to him as any tool, weapon, belongs to a man, and there was something about that, that was meaningful. A child, alone, belonging to someone who would keep them no matter what. Sometimes, I try and remind myself of this, when I think too much on the things he had me do, the things I did for him, sometimes even gladly… I remind myself of this as a way of consolation. What else did I know? What other choice did I have? Death? Perhaps… But strangely, before… or,” You shake your head, your eyes falling closed as you search for the words or answers within yourself, “Strangely, I– I can’t remember when that changed, but it did because I didn’t always want to die. I– I wanted to live, even if it was for him. To please him or serve him or be useful in any way. They hoped to fill me with fear. But fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. And hate… leads to power. I was only ever the thing he wanted me to be in the moment I was powerful enough to defeat him. And you can’t know what that means, to live such a fruitless existence, to have no purpose… it’s terrible. But he finally gave me that in the most terrible and glorious of ways.” You open your eyes again to take him in, Din with the heart of a sun.

“I don’t mean it as an excuse, but– but I think it’s important to remember. That he was ever the only one… it feels that, before I met you, he was the only other person I ever really knew. Only ever him, but then I met you, and then I knew you. And can a girl ever be more animal than girl? I don’t know… but surely if it was possible, then that’s what I was. So when I escaped, when I killed the only father I’d ever known, who was also a monster, yes, but also all I’d ever known, I was more animal than girl in that moment. You understand, Din?” You ask, but he gives no hint that he does, more droid than man now, and so you continue on anyways. “I killed the remainder of his following. I was stronger than them, stronger than him sometimes, and I know he feared that. I escaped to Corellia. The chaos of the planet was easy to hide within, but you must remember, again, I was more animal than anything else at that moment.” You give a short laugh, “I don’t know why all of my tragedy always seems to start and end on that planet. Perhaps, it’s why I keep going back there. And he–” You want to turn away, but force yourself to remain facing him. “He ended up joining me in that tragedy. He tried to help me, the Mandalorian, found me broken and discarded, waiting to die in the gutter like a street rat, entirely unaware of what it was to survive without the guiding hand of someone else.” You’d been so terrified, delirious and confused and reborn again – like an infant, come straight from a hostile and poisoned womb, newly birthed unto the galaxy and left to fend for yourself. Mind and body, savaged, yes, but with a soul that sang and howled with victorious growing pains at your newfound freedom. It had been so long, trapped, so long you’d forgotten the sound of your mother’s voice, the feel of your father’s strong hand on your child softened cheek, but you’d been free then, and you’d thought that even if you were to die like that, in the slums of Corellia, on the street like a pauper, at least you’d die clutching freedom in your hand. And then he’d found you.

“But I had never known help, Din. Never. I couldn’t recognize such a thing. He led me to safety within the city, saw me for what I was, a broken, haggardly thing, perhaps, and he helped me. And once he was done showing me his kindness, I killed him. For no other reason except mistrust and habit. I– I didn’t know there was another recourse, that that wasn't what I had to do. I didn’t know I had other choices besides violence. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I killed him, Din. I’m sorry I never told you. I’m sorry I am the thing they made me. I’ve tried to be better, I’ve failed bitterly, and I’m sorry.”

You hope he understands that you hadn’t thought before you’d acted, more animal than girl, you’d performed on base instinct. And worse than anything else, he’d had a son, that Mandalorian, like Din does now, and you can still bring forth the memory of the child’s face in your mind even after all this time. You’d seen him as you’d ripped through his father’s mind, pilfered and savaged his memories and left him for dead in a filth strewn, back alleyway. An entire life torn apart in a single moment, and in the very millisecond before his soul had left him, the last thought you’d laid eyes on within his mind had been the image of his own face reflected back at him as he’d seen it earlier that day just before he’d hidden behind the protective helm of his Creed. You’d stolen his future, stolen a child’s father, and desecrated a life’s worth of dedication all in one single foul, unthinking instant. You’d not even given him the dignity of dying with his Creed intact.

After all this time, you still felt that was what made the sin all the worse. That unintentional theft, to openly spit in the face of his benevolence and generosity, an unforgivable thing.

And it would be easy to say that you hadn’t recognized that which he’d been offering – the sight of a merciful and helping hand extended to you without malintent or pretense. That you hadn’t recognized it, and perhaps, it was the truth, but you were sure it didn’t really matter at the end of it. A thing worse than all the death and destruction and pain you’d dolled out in the name of the dark side, that one act was singular in its unencumbered horror for you’d not had the farce of your master's orders to hide behind, the helm of the dark whispering in your ear, stealing you of your choice. This had been wholly your own action, entirely your doing.

The first thing that had ever belonged only to you in your entire life. And strange because during your time as a Sith, you’d undoubtedly killed any number of the beskar covered warriors, but this last one, it had been a kill without thought, without necessity, without influence. Only as yourself. Perhaps it had set the stage for all the rest. Perhaps it had set the stage for your own fall.

You aren’t aware you’re crying until you feel his mouth on your face, his throat vibrating with low growls as he licks at your tears, the hollow thud of the helmet hitting the floor finally registering in your ears. Stop, it’s okay. Please, don’t cry, little one. You squeeze your eyes shut tight as you can, trying to pull away, escape him again, but he pulls you close. The long, uncompromising line of him pressing all the way along your softness, inciting the chill of death inside of you back to life.

“Do you really think,” he starts low, the sound of his unmodulated voice for the first time in so long, “that there’s anything you could ever do, that I’ve not forgiven you for already a thousand times over?”

You begin to thrash in his grip, feral and wild and not wanting to be tamed this time, but he does not let you run, not again. His arms like bands of iron around your waist, stitching you to the cold steel of his chest and crushing your protests from your lungs. The two of you fold slowly to the ground. Huddling you between his crouched thighs, you try and push back, but he cages you between his knees and arms, and you turn your face away from him, trying to escape his wet mouth, the damp of his lips catching against your tear soaked lashes. “I never wanted to be this– this thing,” you gasp by way of another apology. “I never wanted to live like this – strange and violent and obscured in the shadow of something I was too young to ever understand until it was too late. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I lied or deceived you or made you feel something for someone that never really existed. Most of all, I’m sorry that it could not be true,” you gasp. “I’m sorry that I could not be true. That I couldn’t be something else.”

“You have nothing to apologize to me for. You think…” he says very slowly. Measured. “You think that I haven't done terrible things, as well? That I haven’t killed when I, perhaps, could have been merciful? That I’ve never been afraid or lost or weak? That I’ve never let violence overtake me? Worst of all, that sometimes I even liked it. We’ve all done things to be ashamed of. We will all, at one point, do things to be ashamed of. That is what it is to be human.” Human. You don’t know if you’ve ever truly been that. “What means more to me is honor and loyalty and character – these are things you’ve shown me.”

“I haven’t,” you cry.

“You have,” he growls, and he takes you between his hands violently so that you’re crying out in pain from your wounds or shock or fear of what he’ll do to you now. Crushing you to him so fiercely you feel as though he’s trying to squeeze your very heart from your chest so that he might look upon it with his own two eyes. “You exist. You exist, and you are here and you are mine. You were never given a choice. You were a child, stolen and abused and turned into something you were never supposed to be. The Force within you is a gift, and they tried to corrupt it into something it should have never been, but they did not succeed.” You try and shake your head at him, push him away, scream and cry and tell him that he’s wrong, that you are bad and poisoned and that even he, the great warrior, cannot save you. But he grips your jaw in his long fingers, grinding your bones between his strength, and halts your disagreement. He snarls at you, so furious at what had been done to you. You realize, suddenly, that he is vibrating with barely restrained rage. For you. Not at you.

“They did not succeed. Your presence here, your regret, your wish for more, for better, your very escape, proves to me that they did not. You were too strong, too good.” I am not, you moan, starting to thrash and claw in his arms again. You don’t know, you’re wrong. “I know your true heart, I see you. As much as you hate it, as much as you wish it were otherwise, I know the true desires of your mind. As much as it pains you to be seen, to be known, I do. I always have, from that very first moment in the darkness, I saw you.” And his voice holds so much conviction, so much surety, you’re left with no other choice but to believe him, for Din is good and honest and true, and if he says it’s so, then it must be so.

You go loose and weak suddenly, eyes pressed together tightly, squeezing tears out through crinkled lashes. Din is good and honest and true, and if he says it’s so, then it must be so. Your entire body is trembling, fraught with nerves and a surging of truth inside of you so overwhelming your heart beats in your ears, behind the fragile membrane of your eyelids.

They’d done such terrible things to you, over and over again, and you were nothing but a single blip in the galaxy of stars, a singular pinpoint of terrible pain. That’s what they’d turned you into, but here, in his arms, you’re beginning to realize they’d failed at their goal.

He pulls your face into the space between his jaw and shoulder then, so tenderly, and you finally open your eyes to take in the skin of his throat, the growing stubble there. “Come here, sweetheart. It’s okay. We’re together now.”

“I’m not sweet, don’t call me that.” But there is no conviction behind your words, and you clutch at him more tightly. Your fingers twisting into the folds of his cape, clawing at the skin of his cheeks.

“You are for me,” he says. And it’s true. There’d always been something about him that’d made you fragile in the face of his strength, in a way you’d needed, in a way you’d never had before.

“No. No.” You try and push and pull at him weakly, fruitlessly. “I’m leaving soon. I just need to catch my breath, and then I’m going.”

And he clutches you tighter at that, fingers twisting through your hair to jerk your head back painfully. You snap your eyes shut, mouth falling open on a gasp. “You’re not going fucking anywhere, do you hear me?”

He’s being so careless with his face, dangling it before your closed-eyed face. “I won’t open my eyes. I don’t care what you do.”

He gives a rough sound of frustration, pressing his panting mouth to your cheek, growling against your skin, “Try to leave me again and see what fucking happens,” and there’s no doubt or wavering in his voice, only a great sort of conviction laced in terrible fury. “Go anywhere in the galaxy and see how long it takes me to find you again.”

“Please, Din– it hurts.” You can’t help it, he’s being too rough for the state you’re in now, barely holding yourself together at the seams. His hands leave you immediately, pulling back so that you’re sagging between his crouched thighs. You listen to the sound of him picking up the helmet, the hydraulics engaging once again as he fits it over his face.

The two of you are quiet for a moment, catching your breaths. Your lungs feel set to burst, your vision jumping from bright light to murky dark and your stomach twists a sharp, brutal pain. Everything hurts everywhere.

“How long?” And you know he’s asking about your time captured.

“I don’t know,” you say, bracing your hand against the hard strength of his thigh, barely able to keep yourself upright. “I lost track of time, but it was winter when they took me away.”

“It’s winter again now.”

“Yes.” And the truth sits like a heavy smog between the two of you, a very long time. “I don’t want you to forgive me,” you say then. “I don’t deserve it.”

“Which is why you won’t look at my face.” He pets your head so gently, and you lay your cheek against the beskar over his thigh, letting the coolness of the metal settle the flames running beneath your skin, and think it is terrible, sometimes, to be understood so deeply. Tears drip over the bridge of your nose and lose themselves in the weave of his pants.

He shifts, settling on a folded foot beneath himself, bringing you in closer to his chest, careful, careful, as if you’d been made of nothing but breakable hurt. Silence swells, fraught and unbearable, between the two of you, and your heart beats in rebounding thumps. You feel you know what he’s going to say before he even says it. “I told you that there’s nothing you could ever do I’d not forgive you for. I think… I think that love allows for forgiveness.”

You choke on your breath. “Don’t say it. Please, don’t say it,” you beg. He continues to pet your hair slowly.

“I love you. And you’re going to listen to me say it. If I have to live with it, then so do you.”

“This doesn’t feel like love, this feels like punishment,” you whisper, tears falling faster, soaking the duraweave beneath.

“How would you know? You’ve not had it before.”

Your eyes snap up to the face of his helmet, and you try and jerk away, but he holds you in place with a hand fisted in your hair. His voice is still gentle, not meant to hurt. “Fuck you,” you spit, hurt anyways.

“But neither have I, and yet, I know that’s what this is.” You shake your head in his grip, so full of confusion, listening to the wheezing whittling of your breaths pass in and out of you. You can’t understand. You don’t. Or you don’t want to.

There is something humiliating about the easiness of his forgiveness. He forgives you now, and so what was all that for? Where does the point of all your suffering go now that he’s so swiftly given you that which you’d craved for so long?

“I don’t give a damn what you’ve done. I’d let you stab a knife through my heart if it pleased you and die still loving you.” He cups the side of your tear soaked face, drags the warm, dry pads of his thumb gently beneath one swollen, aching eye. The callus of his trigger finger catches on the paper fragile skin, and there is a writhing, howling pain working inside of you, inside your heart.

I love you too, you mouth up at him, words made only of air, but no less true. “But I can’t look yet,” you tell him, “I’m not ready yet.” Not strong enough to grant myself that.

“I know.” And you’re grateful. Grateful for this, for his understanding, even if it is terrible. Grateful he’d not kissed you yet; you’re not ready for that yet either.

“How can you not be angry with me? How can you not hate me?”

“The only thing I’ve ever been angry at you about, is that you forced me to betray you.”

“I didn’t–”

“I should have never let you go.”

“I didn’t want you to,” your voice breaks. “I wanted you to fight.”

“I know, cyar’ika. I should have seen that.”

There is, with startling clarity, the realization that there was no point at all. That there is never any point, justification to suffering. It just is, and then it is not.

“Why did I do all of it?” You plead, cry.

“Why did you do all of it?” He asks you instead, for at the end, you’re the only one who can say.

And there is no justification, and no point, and it all just is. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

“You did what you had to. Or what you thought was right. I know. I see who you really are. I understand.” And absolution is a very specific sort of thing, and it lives here between the two of you. It always had

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

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#tcc fic #OH MY GOD THIS WAS SO BEAUTIFUL AND PERFECT #how do i print a hard copy out of this?#vic can you please bind this fanfic and send it to me i’ll pay you as much as you want for a physical copy #killing my self #crying on my bed while my google home mini plays a mix of taylor swift and other sad songs #din is so loving and caring and understanding #he never for a second judged her for her actions bc he understands why she is the way she is #din djarin is an EMPATH

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stupidbullshitallday · 1 year ago

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"The angel who found his wings on someone elses back"

I am well aware that this particular frame is not meant to be deep at all and probably holds no actual meaning BUT this has been going on loop in my brain ever since i watched the show and I need to let it out.

SO, Normally characters with wings are related to freedom in some way, since their wings should allow them to fly, making them feel relief as they soar through the sky tasting freedom. It's one of the most basic metaphors out there.

However, we know thats not the case here, both Angel and Husk are soul binded to demons that quite frankly only keep them alive because they are useful, they are anything but free.

Yet Husk offers to listen, he offers support because he knows whats that like, how awful it is, he is watching Angel self desctruct himself and tries to stop him before it gets too bad because he's been there. This actually helps Angel a lot, he finds a sense of joy and comfort at the idea of someone being able to understand him and offering him a safe way of relief from that life.

The winged character is offering someone at rock bottom that sense of freedom that comes with opening up about something so painful that they kept bottling up, it's not the freedom they hope for not even close, but for now thats enough to prevent them from drowning in their misery.

Angel isn't free just yet, but thanks to Husk he can get a taste of whats that like by having the freedom to open up about everything that he hates about the situation he is in and I just think thats beautiful.

#hazbin hotel #angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #huskerdust #hazbin angel dust

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thewidowsledger · 23 days ago

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Fallen Demon

Pairings: Demon!Natasha Romanoff x Summoner!Female Reader

Word count: 3.6k

Tags | Warnings: ANGST, bullying, FLUFF happy ending please trust me, this is my 'I lied put your clothes back on' trend entry

Author's Note: I honestly didn't feel satisfied with the first one I wrote since it was a rush, and I felt like I didn't give justice to the request of 🍠 this was still a rush since I wrote it in a 6-hours bus ride👉👈 but it came out the way I wanted to be and I hope y'all will like it as well. The real reason I wrote this is because of Hozier's DIWK cover, fudge I need it tattooed with every fiber of my being!

Navigation | Masterlist | Part 1

⧗

"I had to, and you must say it."

"No, no, please I can't. I cannot."

"Princess, please," Natasha pleaded, desperation lacing her voice as she called out to you. She never kneeled before altars nor had prayed to Gods, but never had she felt this urge, this need to be understood, to be heard, by a mere human.

⧗

A deep, foreboding sigh escaped her lips as she stood before the ritual circle, the symbols of summoning etched into the floor.

"How foolish," she muttered to himself, "to bind oneself to such a malevolent force once more." Then, she turned around to see you, kneeling on the floor.

Her smirk faltered as she beheld your naked body stiffed on the cold stone floor, head bowed submissively. The portal pulsed with an eerie light, casting long shadows across your trembling silhouette. Her eyes narrowed, curiosity and concern warring in their obsidian depths.

"To…what do I owe the pleasure, princess?"

You slowly looked at her, the fire burning in her eyes was washed with the tears that you had in yours.

"C-can you say I'm beautiful?"

With a wry chuckle that seemed too old for her youthful visage, she stepped closer, her bare feet silent on the stone floor. "Princess, your request is as intriguing as it is foolish. Summoning a demon for mere sweet words? Truly, the lengths humans go to…"

You felt a strange warmth of shame spread through your chest as you bobbed your throat, you forced yourself not to let any tear slide down from your eyes.

Her powerful form seemed to shrink as she saw the memories in your eyes. The laughter, the whispers, the isolation. You being called names, you eating in a comfort cubicle and you crying for being locked inside it.

I hate myself.

She heard it, she heard your thoughts. Her eyebrows furrowed as she suddenly grasped the depth of your despair, your self-loathing thoughts echoing loudly in the silence between you. She clenched her jaw but it cracked, giving way to a softer expression.

Summoning a demon for a mere compliment, trading your body, having your soul sucked for words. It was indeed stupid. Desperate. Foolish. Absur—

"Stop those thoughts of yours, princess. They're too loud and not good for someone like you." Her voice had an unexpected caring tone that made you hitch your breath. "Dress yourself, I don't want you catching a cold."

She watched as you scrambled to gather the folded clothes, her supernatural grace contrasting sharply with your human clumsiness. Her observant gaze fell upon the bruises marring your skin and the gum stuck in your hair.

She really tried her hardest not to take you from there.

Her eyes roamed over your improved appearance, a glimmer of approval in her gaze. "Much better," she acknowledged with a nod. "I like the shirt but it is practically a dress on you. Are you auditioning for a role in a horror film?"

You let out a giggle and the sound was music to her ears. "It's all I got, everything's in the laundry." You spoke shyly, tucking a hair behind your ear.

Then, her gaze drifted around your small room, taking in the cramped space with a hint of disdain. "Your room is...cozy," she commented, her tone laced with sarcasm. "I've slept in closets larger than this."

You laughed again, hell, she would thank Jesus for that laugh.

"It's my apartment," you started, "the one you've been to before was my bestfriend's house which was miles away."

"The witch's house," she muttered and you nodded, her lip curling slightly as she remembered the eerie atmosphere of the place. "No wonder it felt...off whenever I was there. It reeked of herbs and spell components. Anyway, has she noticed anything unusual about her beloved houseplant yet?"

Well, the plant was still the same, and your bestfriend hasn't noticed anything when she came back, only your disheveled state and the eerie vibes she said your aura is giving during that day. And she, in fact, did a cleansing ritual on you while you were asleep, you were grateful to still woke up but choking with the smell of her cleansing stick candles and her muttering some gibberish witch prayers you god knows what.

"It's still okay, don't worry." You offered her a reassuring smile as you sat on your bed looking up at her huge form, she is literally having a hard time leaning down since height is much higher than your ceiling. "We can sit on the floor." You said, and then you moved to an indian sit form.

She then hesitantly copied your movements, her big legs folding between each other. "Don't be so sure about that, witches have really strong senses and intuition." She groaned as she finally sat across you, the ritual circle between you both.

"You're being bullied, aren't you?" The accusation hung heavy in the air.

Her gaze narrowed as she studied your face, taking in the faint bruises that are now hidden in your big shirt, the slight limp in your step, the way you always seemed to be on edge. And then a wad of gum stuck to your hair, a cruel prank meant to humiliate you.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back tears. Your head was ducked, hiding your face behind a curtain of hair as you stared at your crossed thighs. The silence was deafening, broken only by the soft sniffles you were trying desperately to suppress. You then slowly nodded and removed your eyeglasses to messily wipe your tears.

Your parents decided to send you abroad to study, and you were utterly culture shocked by the prevalence of bullying. You hadn't expected that the portrayal of bullying from the movie and series you watched in high school was actually reflecting reality. What's worse is you didn't see that it would happen to you. From being homeschooled to having to go abroad to study, it was the most difficult thing. You only had one friend, Wanda, and she is not here to comfort or protect you the way she did when you were just kids. Wanda had even told you to get the used tissue or get a strand of hair from your bullies and have it sent to her so she could handle the business, but you would just laugh at your witch friend during call with your swollen eyes and reassure her that you could handle it on your own and toughen up.

You are grown now and you told yourself that eventually you need to protect yourself from others, you cannot rely on your family or Wanda in your entire life. But the thought of standing up for yourself felt impossible. All you longed for was someone to step in and put an end to the torment, and you had no idea how to protect yourself from others when you were so worn down by it all.

"You could've asked me to return the favor to your bullies…" she spoke carefully but with a little bit of threat.

Now, you shook your head side by side. "Aren't you supposed to be enjoying this?" you asked, your voice trembling as tears welled up in your eyes. "I mean, you're a demon. Shouldn't you be relishing in my pain and suffering? You should be enjoying people doing cruelty to others. That's how you feed yourselves, with the sin of mankind."

"Princess," she sighed deeply, like she is disappointed but she is. "Is that why you were naked earlier? You ask something of me and I…take you in return so you just prepared yourself right away?"

Her gaze burned to you as well as the shame burning like a hot iron in your skin.

"It's not that I, as a demon, necessarily enjoy your pain and suffering for my own sake."

She took a moment to compose herself before continuing, carefully choosing her words to ensure you would understand. As she spoke, you drew your knees up inside the oversized shirt you were wearing, making yourself smaller and more vulnerable as you listened intently.

"You see," she began, her voice soft but firm, "I…I was born this way. I was born a demon, and my purpose is to be a punisher of those who have done wrong."

As soon as the words left her lips, she paused, studying your expression to see how you were processing what she had just said and to make sure you're not uncomfortable about it. Then, she continued, "I don't feed myself with sinful acts or relish in anyone's suffering, princess. Instead, I feed on those who have made…contracts with me. That's how I sustain myself. That doesn't mean I am delighted to do it."

"Hey," you crawled and sat right in front of her, your knees touching hers. "You may be a demon but you're not evil. I know that."

The demon's mouth was wide open as she stared at you in disbelief. Your words had struck a chord within her, leaving her stunned and speechless. She had never encountered a human who saw past her demonic nature, let alone voiced their belief aloud so confidently.

"Do I make you suffer?"

"What? No."

"No, when I come to visit you whenever for…for the contract. Do you feel pain whenever I…whenever I…take you?" The demon never stuttered not until this day.

You reached her face and caressed your thumb on her cheeks, "No." It was just one word but you hope it was enough to reassure the burning demon.

She doesn't take joy in sin. Especially not yours, she would punish herself for it. Her purpose is to punish those who commit it and feed herself with those who willingly and mistakenly entered into contracts with her by taking pieces of their souls. You were binded with her and she had come and taken you twelve times as you can remember. And now, you summoned her once again, making it more difficult for either of you to break the bound unless for one thing.

The demon couldn't deny it anymore, she had grown…attached to you, even though she tried to keep her emotions in check. She cannot help but notice how your laughter and hums had filled her with an unfamiliar sense of warmth. How you had clung to her after she had just ripped your innocence bit by bit and pounded a piece of your soul out of you, and after, you would still be asking when she would come back. That's why she would painfully leave as soon as your eyes had fluttered shut as you drifted off to sleep so she wouldn't have to deal with your questioning right after you wake up.

She had taken a piece of your innocence and soul, yet the purity and naivety in your eyes remained intact. This world is too brutal and cruel for someone as precious as you, and all she longed to do was shield you from its harshness.

But a demon couldn't. You are wrong, she was evil—she is evil—her very nature is inherently evil. She was consuming you bit by bit, feeding herself with your soul leaving you weak. She was the very threat she sought to safeguard you against.

She was never terrified of anything or any Gods, not until she thought how your laughter would not bring warmth the hell couldn't bring her. She was horrified at the idea of taking so much of your soul that your laughter would no longer bring the same joy and comfort.

She has to protect you from her, from consuming you more until there is nothing left from you.

She will not be the reason you will lose that light.

"My name's Natasha." The demon spoke after the long silence and staring.

You frowned and quickly rose to your feet, "No, no," Natasha watched you paced back and forth to your apartment. "Why did you tell me your name?!" You shouted, the tears are already falling down the ritual circle beneath you. "Why?!"

"I had to, and you must say it."

"No, no, please I can't. I cannot."

"No! Fireball, that's your name! That's what we agreed upon on what I'll call you!" You shut your eyes in denial, that was the silly nickname you gave her since she didn't want to give her name when you first summoned her. At first you were determined to know it so you would break the contract, but as soon as her visitation became more frequent, that mission was long forgotten.

"Why?!" her demon voice thundered through the room, it was the first time you heard her voice like that again, and you swear you feel like the whole building felt it. "Every human I've ever bound would go to lengths just to know my name, just to break away from me!" She roared, her eyes blazing with demonic fire. "Why?! Wouldn't you say it?!"

"Because I love you, Natasha! I love you!"

Her eyes widening as she stared at you, the demonic fire in his eyes flickering in shock. She blinked, once, twice, trying to process the words that had just escaped your lips.

"I never liked my name not until I heard you say it." She spoke with a solemn smile.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized what you just did, you frantically dropped to your knees before her. "No!" you exclaimed, your voice breaking with desperation as you reached out to cup her face in your hands. "Please, I take it back! I take it back!" you pleaded, your heart aching with regret.

"Hey, it's okay." Natasha's hand moved to gently hold your right hand that is on her face. "But that's not how it works, princess."

Demons are said to be creatures of fire and brimstone, devoid of human emotions and incapable of shedding tears. But tears streamed down her burning eyes, their tracks visible on her smooth skin.

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched her begin to glow, a faint, otherworldly light emanating from her form. You are helpless, unable to utter anything but the anguished plea of 'no's' as it left your lips on repeat.

"N-no…" Your body trembled, your tears streaming down your face as you shook your head sideways, then, you put the side of your head into her chest as if you're trying to hear her heartbeat, "No, please," you repeated once again, your voice choked with emotion. "I didn't mean to say it. I can't lose you, please."

You want to be with her, even if the means is her consuming you inch by inch, even if you're going to feel every bits of it.

"Please, say my name one more time. I like hearing you say it." Holding back tears, you shook your head defiantly, burying your face against her chest. Slowly, you looked up into her eyes, a broken, tear-stained mess.

You would meet the ends of hell to be with her.

Tenderly, Natasha reached out to touch your face, her touch gentle and warm. Her fingers grazed your skin as she softly cupped your cheeks, her eyes locking onto yours. A small, bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she gently caressed your face with her thumb.

"I didn't know what I did for God to bring you to me. But I would thank Him profoundly," she whispered, her words quivering slightly. "For you are an angel sent from heaven, a beautiful, unexpected gift. One that is unworthy of a demon."

You would beg God to be with her.

Your lips quivered, you shook your head once more, slowly and deliberately, as if trying to reject the reality unfolding before your eyes.

"I've never been to heavens not until I met you, Natasha..."

"I love you, Y/N. Know that our love will bind us together, always. So long, princess."

The knock at your door jerked you out of your dazed state, suddenly jolting you back to reality. You blinked, bewildered and disoriented, trying to make sense of the jumble of confusing emotions and disjointed memories swirling in your mind and in front of you. You couldn't recall what had happened, why there was a ritual circle beneath where you were kneeling, or why you were a sobbing mess, repeating a name that was now lost in your tongue.

"Hey! Are you okay there?!"

⧗

The senior night was in full swing, students were dancing and having a great time. But there you were slumped in your chair. You just didn't have the energy to get up and dance.

Some of your classmates came to ask if you wanted to dance, but you politely turned them down. You watched as everyone else seemed to be having the time of their lives. You tugged at the fabric, trying to get it to sit right on your shoulders. You fidgeted with the lace trim around the neckline, running your fingers over the delicate design. The more you fiddled with it, the more you began to realize how uncomfortable the gown truly was.

As you were messing with your gown, a voice suddenly spoke up next to you. "Hey, did you hear about Tracy?" asked your classmate Darcy as she took the seat beside you. "The one that sticked a juicyfruit in your hair in 2nd year?"

You looked up at Darcy, a deep sigh escaping your lips, "Yeah, it's not exactly something I want to remember. Cutting my hair shorter than I wanted wasn't fun."

Then Darcy said with a grin, "Well? That bitch wasn't here at the party because someone shaved her hair off during a sorority sleepover."

Your eyes widened in shock as you turned your full attention to her. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. "You're kidding, right?" you asked in not wanting to believe it. "But she's the president."

Darcy nodded her head eagerly, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "It's true, eyebrows included too," she said between laughs, clearly enjoying the shock on your face. "And, and, and remember Aris, the guy that sparred with you in gym class even though you told him you were just a yellow belt and he's a black belt? And you were almost sent to the hospital?"

"Yeah..?" Now that's a core memory of yours that you could only cringe when you remember it on a sunny day.

"Asshole lost his national tournament and he got injured for life after his sparring with the freshie transferee."

"Freshie transferee?" you dumbfoundedly asked.

"Yeah," Darcy nodded, trying to be demure once again after she just unleashed a not-so-very demure laugh. "So yeah…I'm just here to deliver that information, I feel like you have a right to since those fuckers did you wrong back then."

"Please have fun, Y/N, c'mon!" Darcy shouted as she was practically being dragged to the dancefloor by her date, Jimmy.

You sat frozen in your chair, your mouth hanging open in complete shock at what she had just revealed to you. Those two left a scar on you that is still healing up to this day, but still, after hearing what happened to them, you felt bad.

After a few moments, you shook your head, realizing that you needed to get out of there. The room was starting to feel stuffy and suffocating. You stood up from your chair and made your way toward the door, knowing that some fresh air would do you good.

The cool night air was refreshing as you stepped outside, and you took a deep breath, appreciating the moment of solitude.

But then a voice broke through the silence, "This party was a mess, huh?"

There was something about the voice that sounded oddly familiar to you. It was as if you had heard it before, but you couldn't quite place it. But still, you continued standing with your back to the stranger, not feeling the need to turn and address whoever they are. You simply minded your own business, enjoying your fresh air.

"I like your gown."

You were in the middle of rolling your eyes in annoyance, prepared to tell whoever was trying to talk to you to leave you alone. But as soon as you caught sight of the fiery haired girl wearing a suit, you felt intimidated and her face seemed incredibly familiar to you, and your initial reaction was to squint to try and place where you had seen her before.

"T-thanks," you replied, your cheeks burning up.

"Got a name?"

You managed to stammer out a response. "I uhm...it's Y/N," you said, feeling a bit self-conscious.

"Beautiful." She said before slowly walking towards you. "They call me freshie transferee which is so lame by the way."

"Wait…so you're—"

"My name's Natasha."

"Natasha…" you couldn't help but repeat her name softly, feeling a sense of familiarity in the way it rolled off your tongue. You swore to yourself, you have uttered the name before in so many ways.

Then, suddenly, her hand gently touched your face, causing you to snap back to reality. You locked eyes with her fiery gaze.

"You are as beautiful as the day I lost you."

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow

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