#the urge to name myself after him is so strong man

[thecomet-and-themeteor]

Sorry for Romeo & Juliet posting on not main but just hold on for a second, I promise this relates to & Juliet it's genuinely insane how Prince Escalus just fucking. Lost like all of his (named) relatives.

Motherfucker gave both the Capulets and the Montagues at least a million chances and both families just abused it.

His cousin was killed while visiting the grave of his dead fiancée and his nephew was killed in a fight that he had no reason to be in. The first one was by a Montague, the second one was by a Capulet. The first one was on behalf of a Capulet, the second one was on behalf of a Montague.

That's fucking insane, man. I wouldn't be surprised if, in & Juliet, while the Capulets were busy in Paris with Juliet and Frankie, the Montagues were being stripped of their status, titles, and land. And then when the Capulets returned to Verona, I wouldn't be surprised if they were also stripped of their status, titles, and land. And the worst part is, that is literally the least he could do as a punishment to them yet I don't doubt even for a second that that was the punishment he went with because HE STILL FUCKING CARED ABOUT THEM.

And the slap in the face of both Romeo Montague and Juliet Capulet being alive meanwhile Paris and Mercutio both still lay dead is unimaginable. What would you do in that situation? Genuinely, what would you do? Because I can't imagine it'd be anything good.

[jallerentrags]

Better than him.

James Potter x Reader, based on 'Boyfriend' by Dove Cameron.

James Potter thought of himself as a lucky man.

He had everything he wanted: Good grades, good friends, a good life. The only thing he wanted, which he worried he might never have, was you.

Y/n Cassiopeia Black, twin sister to the elusive and handsome Regulus Black. But despite being at the same school, and being best mates with your older brother, the space between the both of you was almost impossible to cross. You were cold and indifferent - sticking with your friends and Regulus - and avoided James like the plague. You rarely spoke, supposedly scorned by his theft of your older brother, and when you did converse, it was usually under the watchful eyes of Charles Nott, your betrothed.

At the age of 16, you had been auctioned and sold to the highest bidder, wrapped in his vice like grip. James watched from the side-lines as the eyes that used to shine like her brother's name-sake, faded.

He had tried to become besotted with Lily, a beautiful and intelligent girl, but it was futile. Your power over him was strong, his urge to move on with Lily too weak. But a strong friendship between the Head Boy and Girl did blossom, so James ended up ranting to Lily about his situation.

“James I don’t know what to say. Y/n is one of the most prized girls in school and her circle is small. Your best bet to get her attention is to ask Sirius to introduce you,” Lily paused to brush her long hair out of her eyes and behind her shoulder with a thoughtful look, “Of course, that’s if she’s willing to speak to Sirius, I don’t think I’ve seen them together since last year.”

James sighed. He already knew that you had closed yourself off after losing your brother, and he grimaced thinking about how hurt you must feel. He knew that Sirius was still mourning his loss as heir to the House of Black, and heard him crying at night when his ache for his little siblings grew too heavy.

“I know,” James fiddled with his glasses, face heating up. “Maybe it’s best if I just leave it. It’s a pipe dream that a girl like that would ever go for a guy like me.” James moved to pick up his books from the library table and head to his dorm, mood low. Lily gasped and slapped his hand away.

“Definitely not! I remember Remus telling me that you two were completely smitten and oblivious to it despite belonging to rival houses. The James Potter should definitely not give up this easily,” Lily’s brows were lowered in an expression of seriousness, her lips thin, “I’ve got an idea. You know the Christmas Ball is this weekend?”

Of course James knew the Christmas Ball was this weekend. The whole school had been preparing for it since it was announced early November, a night of bliss and relaxation to temporarily ignore the deteriorating state of the outside World. James’ parents had already sent him his dress robes, and he saw that last Tuesday you had received a large parcel in the mail which he guessed must of been your dress.

“Yes, but I don’t see why that matters? She’ll be going with Charles. He proposed in August.” James spat, anger lacing into his words. Lily merely rolled her eyes and huffed.

“So? Steal her away! Ask her to dance and charm her! I’m sure it won’t be that difficult, it’s not as if she’s in love with Nott,” Lily placed her hands on the table and leaned towards him, “She’ll definitely leave him for you, she’s always been sympathetic towards muggle-born’s and I heard her talking about how she wishes she didn’t have to marry Nott. Give her a reason, Be her reason, and she’ll leave her supremacist family and be with you.” James scoffed and leaned back in his chair, watching as Lily reclined also.

“I don’t think it’ll be that easy. She loves Regulus and she fits the role as ‘Slytherin’s Princess’ perfectly. I don’t want to put myself out there for her if she’s already too far gone.”

“Believe me. She’s not. People don’t look at each other like you two do.” Lily smiled at him, certainty blazing in her emerald eyes, “You could be her new beginning, and I really think she wants that. She loves Regulus and she always will, but I know that he would value her happiness and I doubt that she wouldn’t love to have a reason to escape,” Lily’s hand reached over to James’ and clasped it, “I really believe that you two would work. I want to see you happy James, please trust me.”

James’ lips formed a smile, and he felt hope blare in his chest. If Lily, the smartest girl he knew, believed that he stood a chance, then he had faith. He squeezed her hand and stood up, collecting his books and shoving them into his bag.

“I trust you, now watch me get my girl.”

————————————————————————-

The Great Hall looked beautiful, you thought, as you entered. The ceiling showcased a clear starry sky, and the decorations shone and sparkled in the candle light. Ice sculptures decorated the corners, and 12 great circle tables surrounded a square dance floor and far off, adjacent the teachers table, was a long buffet and drinks table laden with Honeydukes delights and crisp pumpkin juice. Charles, your financeé, gripped your hand tighter and dragged you to a table with his friends, only slightly admitting how beautiful you looked in your F/c gown. Charles' friends briefly acknowledged you (with a few appreciative eyebrow raises) before ignoring your presence entirely. Across the room, you spotted your older brother and his friends, who hadn't seemed to notice your entrance just yet. Sirius looked remarkable like always, a classic example of the Black families striking looks. Even Remus looked quite handsome in his robes, and Peter had cleaned up nicely. Admittedly, you thought, James looked incredibly good in his robes and had caught your eye as soon as you entered the Great Hall. His robes were tailored to his fit physique perfectly, and his hazel eyes shone with excitement. Although he hadn't managed to tame his hair, you secretly appreciated how well it framed his face.

"Admiring the blood traitor, Y/n?" Rosier, one of Charles' close friends, scoffed. You turned back to the table, missing James' look your way, and shot a smile in Rosier's direction.

"Of course not," you replied, entangling your arm from Charles' grip, "But you have to admit that he does look very enjoyable in his robes." you smirked, watching as Charles' face contorted into a sneer. He made to grab for you, already muttering about your incompetence with an extremely angry look on his face. He wrapped his hand around your arm hard, pulling you close enough to whisper in your ear. Despite being pulled into his side, his body still angled away from you, like you didn't matter at all. From across the hall, you wondered whether it looked like it was a lover's embrace. It was anything but. You spared no love for Charles, and it was no secret. Rosier and the others all sniggered, slurs tumbling from their lips and their faces a mixture of disgust and outrage.

"Y/n, you should watch your mouth. You don't want people thinking that you agree with your mutt of a brother, do you?" Charles asked, his face settling into a blank stare. Your brows lowered and your lips curled, before quickly schooling features once more. You simply hummed, avoiding Charles' eyes. "Now run along to Regulus. I'll come to you when I need you." He unwrapped his hand from your arm and pushed you away, before turning back to his group. You wondered through Hall, greeting friends, before making a bee-line for your twin. The dancing had begun, a light tempo that sent couples soaring over the floor. You watched in admiration, the way they held each other, looking into each others eyes like no one else existed, souls mingling and stretching across the floor. You wished you could be swept along the floor, lost in the steps and the feel of your partners hands. The partner you imagined never had the Nott green eyes and cigar scented yellowed palms, he always had the face of your older brother's best friend.

From behind you, you heard somebody cough to catch your attention, and you turned on your heel to come face to face with James Potter, watching his already huge smile grow wider. His hands were in his trouser pockets, his body angled towards you so completely that you couldn't even acknowledge other's brushing up against you.

"I can't believe we're finally alone, I've been trying to catch you since you arrived, you look so beautiful," James revealed, blush drifting across his cheeks, "I almost went back up to the dorm."

"Well that would've been a shame, Potter" you smiled back, easing towards him, "I was hoping to see you on the dance floor."

James laughed, a sound that sent shudders down your spine and took his hand out of his pocket to push up his glasses that had fallen down his nose. "What are the chances? I wanted to see you on the dance floor too," James squared his shoulders and cleared his throat "Everyone's dancing, yet you aren't, somebody that I know is stuck by dance fever frequently, and he's not with you," James leaned forward and smirked, "the Universe must of divined us, little Black, it looks like we're destined to dance together tonight."

You could almost see the thoughts fly across his face as he grabbed your wrist before you could even object, pulling you towards the dance floor. The music had changed to a sweet, mouldable beat, sweeping partners across the floor in unique waltzes and dips. James positioned you on the floor, a large hand leaving a burning touch on you waist and the other slipping into you awaiting hand as you breathlessly laughed. Your hands fit together perfectly, just like his hand rested so perfectly on the curve of your waist. He started leading, smiling down at you as though you placed the stars in the sky, a twinkle in his bespectacled eyes. You followed readily, returning his smile and placing you hand on his shoulder, heat building and spreading under your dress at your close contact.

You were flying, soaring, just two people in a sea of revellers. You didn't slip from his gaze, totally unfettered, lost in him. You never stumbled, never faltered, you recalled every conversation, every lingering glance, every lasting touch, knowing you were utterly enthralled. James looked the same, captivated by your presence, stuck in your energy. You saw the words bubble in him, and your heart soared when he stopped biting his tongue.

"Y/n," he whispered, drawing you closer, his face a picture intimacy, "I could be a better boyfriend than him," you sucked in air, but didn't draw from his arms. James tightened his grip on your hip as you looked deeply into his eyes, "I could do all the shit that he never does," he flared his fingers against your waist, "I'll stay up all night for you, I won't quit. I'm thinking that I'm going to steal you from him," he dropped his head to press against your forehead, your joined hands tight as you still manoeuvred around the floor, "I could be such a gentleman, plus all my clothes would look so good on you." You slowed to a stop, dancers fluttering around you as you ended up at a loss for words, mouth agape and your heart singing. "I could be so much better for you than him."

"James..." you unlaced your joined hands, already missing his touch, as he stared at you desperately. You knew that everything he said was true, and James was nothing if not an honest man. He made you smile, kept you safe, always thought of you as the prettiest girl in the room. You were in love with James Potter, but it wasn't as easy as that. You had to worry about your brother, Regulus, and the future of your family. While your parents were definitely not kind and nurturing, they were all you had. You didn't have James Potter to whisk you away if Sirius didn't allow him too. You wanted James, more than you'd ever want Charles and his prejudice. Your eyes watered, and you suddenly felt lost.

"I don't need to tell you twice all the ways he can't suffice, he wouldn't care about your happiness, or your dancing or your smile," James' unwavering hope warmed you, cocooning you in a safety net when you felt like you were falling from the Astronomy Tower. James wanted to be your new beginning, your second chance. He wanted to cuddle you on cold nights and to show you the beauty of the muggle world and all its secrets, "If I could give you some advice, baby, I'd leave with me tonight." His desperation slipped from his face, replaced with a confident smirk, as if he saw your facade melting, as if he could see you melting in his arms, as if he knew that you were going to choose him, just like you would every single time.

"You'll help me get through it?" you asked, and James immediately knew that you meant the sparking fall out between you and your parents, and the Nott family. James took your face in his hands, love shining in his eyes, before placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

"I'd give you my heart if you asked, darling, of course I'll help. Besides, what's another Black sibling in my house? if your brother comes I'll have the full set." you shared a laugh, biting back the tears that threatened to spill.

"You'd like that." you said between laughs.

"I'd love it." he answered, leaning back and taking your hand in his once again. He led you back off the dance floor, both of you blushing madly and smiling merrily. Towards the left of the hall, you spotted James' friends watching you both intently, glasses raised. Lily Evans seemed particularly excited, emerald eyes aglow with excitement as she waved enthusiastically and gave James a thumbs up. Sirius and Regulus stood further away, small smiles on their faces as they watched their little sister walk out of the hall with the resident trouble maker. No complaints rose up their throats, just unbridled joy for their sister who finally looked happy. James and Y/n didn't look at anyone else as they left hand in hand, not even at a furious Charles Nott, hands balled in tight fists. They ignored the open mouthed stares and muttered remarks, completely absorbed in each other.

The next day, Charles would arrive at his dorm to an owl waiting by the open window. Tied to his leg was a envelope, and Charles reached for it immediately. Ripping it open, he tore the piece of paper out and dumped its contents on his bed. Gleaming back at his sneering face was the ring he gave Y/n when he proposed, and scribbled on the letter was one sentence:

'I suppose you were right Charles, I do have a taste for blood-traitors.’

- Y/n Black and James Potter

[danytherelentless]

They Will Suffice

Jon Snow x fem!reader

summary: a pleasurable moment during your pregnancy with your husband

warnings: smut, illusions to sex, fingering, sweet talk, a little bit dirty, pregnancy, slight pregnancy kink (if you squint really, really hard)

The wind is howling and furious outside, it rattles the shutters of the windows and whistles through the gaps it manages to slither through the walls creating a chill in the air in spite of the warm pipes within the walls of the castle.

You lie in bed with your husband, a quiet and comforting moment between two lovers. Basking in the afterglow of love-making leaning back into his strong arms as they wrap around your front and caress you belly.

His bare knuckle grazes where your child kicks. A budum rhythm over and over again.

"It appears we have awoken them," you muse, looking up to see him. His handsome face is wrought with concentration, dark brows furrowed close.

"He," he corrects you.

You huff a laugh, "he? So sure are we?"

"Yes. I dream of our son in your arms. Of him playing in the Godswood with Ghost," he presses a kiss to your brow.

"Every man wishes for a son. But dreams will not make our child grow a cock if they do not already possess one," you warn. You can't help but feel a little nervous at his surety of a son. What would happen if you birthed a daughter instead?

"I would not be disappointed with a little daughter, my love. I just know that this..." he strokes the underside of your belly where there is another thump, "is our son."

You hum in acknowledgment, a small smile curling at your mouth.

"And what shall our son's name be?"

"Edric," his response is instant.

Your eyes soften, "for your father?"

"Hm. Little Ned," he is smiling now, a small, beautiful and oh so rare thing. It makes your heart swell and tears well up in your eyes.

"When we have a daughter you shall name her," he tells you, as if it is a certainty.

"And what if we shall only have sons? Or only this one child?"

"Then you can name them too. You're the one doing all the hard work," he tells you.

"I suppose you are right. Though you certainly take care of me," you respond with a teasing grin.

"I do now, do I?" he teases right back, one hand going further down to your .

"Mhm. I find myself quite satiated in your presence."

"Careful, I might become unbearable with all this flattery," his teeth graze at the side of your face. You sigh as you sink further back into his arms.

"We can't have that now, can we?"

His hand slips between your thighs, your knees parting some more to allow him better access.

"I find myself not fully satiated tonight, however," you continue, a stir in your lower belly, an urge to squeeze your thighs tightly together.

"Oh. We can't have that now, can we?"

His fingers slide between your folds, already slick once more. He had already cleaned you up after your previous bouts of love-making quite nicely, though is appears it was for nought as you would soon be a mess again.

"I'm not sure I have such energy as you," he admitted as he slid a curled finger into you, thumb circling your nub. A moan broke past your lips as he moves much to slowly.

"Well... your fingers will have to suffice," you let out another broken moan as he gathers your wetness and slides in a second finger.

"Hmm, so wet. So warm," his lips are pressed against the side of your face, teeth grazing the flesh as he whispers his sweet praises into your ear.

His practiced movements speed up, your knees part wider. His cock is hardened somewhat against your back, though not nearly at full mast.

"I can't believe I have you, so perfect, so tight, right in my arms," he speaks, lips dragging across your jaw as you throw your head back against his shoulder.

His fingers curl further, rubbing along that soft spot inside of you which had your thighs twitching and your eyes rolling back as your nails dig into his flesh.

"Right there," you moan, breathless, "please."

"Please what? What do you want?"

"I want to cum. Please make me come," you let out a louder moan.

His movements speed up, "come for me, wife. Finish for me."

You reach your peak, your third that night, fingers curling into the flesh of his thighs, a high, broken keening sound passing your lips, eyes squeezed tightly shut and mouth forming an 'o'.

"So pretty," he strokes your thighs and swollen belly, "so perfect."

You don't hear what he says next as you are lulled into a peaceful slumber, howls of the wind distant to your ears as his warmth envelopes you whole and drags you down to the depths of rest.

comments are greatly appreciated, don’t be a stranger :)

you can find me on Wattpad and AO3 by danytherelentless

let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list for any of my works (character specifications and smut or not)

[stitched-mouth-vs-the-world]

Inappropriate Workplace Behaviour

Pairing: Lord Death x Younger! Secretary! Fem! Reader.

Summary: Lord Death can't stop jacking off to his decades younger secretary.

Warnings: Smut, Masterbation, Mutual Masterbation, Fingering, Age Gap relationship (all parties are 18+), Boss x Employee, Vouyerism, Lord Death is a perv in this.

Writing Time: 1 hour.

Word Counter: 1231.

Format: Kinktober Fic, Day 8.

A/N:

Bro this was supposed to be headcannons how did it become a fic??? I should be on Day 9 now. Why do I always do this to myself I hope you enjoyed my first Lord Death fic. I said he's a perv so he's a perv.

Here is the masterlist for all my Kinktober 2023 works.

---///---

Lord Death was shocked to say the least, when he first realized he had a strong attraction you. An attraction he didn't think any man should have for anyone so close to his son's age.

Or for his own secretary.

He would lie awake at night, fistful of his own dick, thinking about you. How you dressed that day. Simple black suit with heels that you didn't think was that eye catching at all.

But it certainly got your boss's attention, with the way it hugged your figure and emphasized your breasts and ass.

Poor Death would have to cover his own mouth from his loud moans from his own touching. He definitely wished it was your hand though over his mouth.

Could you blame him though? It was a nightmare hiding his boner all day, he had to stay put tucked into his desk.

He would imagine leading you from your desk outside his office into his office and just having his way with you on his desk. He would imagine what your moans and cries would sound like, he imagined them to be sweet and beautiful.

Just like you.

His small obsession would grow into somewhat of an addiction. You started noticing Lord Death's change around you when he started complimenting your outfits more.

I mean, he always did give you a small compliment everyday which could be about anything.

"Lovely to see your adorable smile this morning!"

"Nice shoes, dear. Are they new?"

"I like your hair today. The new look really suits you!"

But they had always been small things in passing that you noticed Death did for everyone in the office. It was like his mission to give everyone one compliment everyday.

But it changed when they became more about your clothes and your curves and happened up to four or five times a day.

"Lovely skirt dear...looks so good on you."

"Careful with that fit love, it will have to boys your age all over you."

"My my my, have a date tonight do we?"

That and the small touches he'd add here and there. A hand on your back whilst he spoke to you, a hand on your chin when admiring your outfit... you could go on.

You knew the Lord Death had a little crush on you. At this point it was so obvious. And being the mischievous little shit you are, you decided you'd tease him a little bit.

With just little things. Small touches, figuring out which kind of outfits he liked best and almost exclusively wearing them, slightly bending over when he was near to pick something up or see something better just to give him a nice view... and so on.

Lord Death wasn't a fast as you. He didn't realise you was now doing it on purpose.

One day after a lot of your teasing, he excused himself to his office and shut the door. Something he rarely ever did. So you went over to the door and peeked through the key hole. What you saw you found shocking.

Lord Death had finally given to one of his urges and ripped off all his clothes and started mastbasting in his desk chair.

He stared nervously at the door as he jerked himself off and moaned your name, worried someone would walk in even though he had locked the door.

You suddenly felt tight and empty.

You looked around, looking for anyone nearby. After evaluating the area and deeming it safe, you decided to take a possible career ending risk just like your boss.

You pulled down you tights and panties down to your knees and hiked up your skirt a little, before slowly rubbing two fingers over your clit.

When you looked down into your panties you could see how wet they had become from the spending the day with Death and now when you caught him touching himself in his office.

You looked back up in the key hole when you heard him cry. His knees slowly raises a little then his heels digged into the floor as he got lost in his fantasy. You bit your lips and moved to fingering yourself with the same two fingers that were just on your clit, as you watched your boss get himself off.

Clearly, he was having just as much fun as you was. His head fell back against his chair and closed his eyes when he felt himself come closer and closer to his edge. You knew he was close which made you sink to your knees and bit your free hand, forcing yourself to edge yourself.

You didn't want to orgasm just yet, but Lord Death was close and you was expecting him to get up and open the door when he was done. So might as well finish with him.

You watched your boss cum into his hand with a loud moan. He panted and fell limp against his chair as he calmed down from his high. You added another finger inside yourself, hoping you'd cum faster. But sadly, you just wasn't quite there yet.

And so as Lord Death slowly got up, cleaned up and dressed himself again you scrambled to find your orgasm. He seemed to be taking forever and still nobody was coming so you closed your eyes and kept fingering yourself.

You finally felt yourself close to edge and moaned in glee.

Until you suddenly fell forward onto someone's legs. You froze in humiliation and fear and couldn't bare to look up at your boss in such a position. Lord Death looked down at you, feeling only shock and suddenly more arousal.

"Ah pretty girl, what are you doing?" Lord Death asked with a worried look as he helped you off your face and sit up straight.

You still had your fingers inside of yourself, which there was no way Death hadn't noticed.

"Um... You was doing it too!" You stuttered nervously.

You sat on the ground and spread your legs slightly to remove your fingers from yourself and pull up your tights and panties before immediately slamming them shut again. But Death had already got a sneak peak of the very thing he was just imagining.

He was quiet for a few seconds before speaking up, "If you want, we can act like this never happened?"

Lord Death still didn't quiet get you was into him. He didn't understand why you were fingering yourself outside his door but assumed it was either a complete misunderstanding and not what it looked like OR you was just a perv.

You looked at him sadly and huffed, "No! Um er, it's not fair you got to cum and I didn't. So I have to cum now."

Your confidence from your teasing persona came back and you quickly pushed Death back into his office and closed and locked the door.

Considering you had given Death so many orgasms since you started working there with your body and clothes, the least he could do is give you one back.

[dilucdoter]

🍷⊹ ₊　Diluc x reader　⁺🍓

Lonliness. That was all that Diluc Ragnvindr currently felt as he sprinted back to the sanctuary of Dawn Winery — a place which he once was oh-so-happy to declare as his home. Alas, now as he approached, all he could feel was a sense of despair, of dread, fear and a heavy discontent in his chest. How could he return after abandoning his position all those years ago? How could he face Kaeya? Adelinde? How could he face his beloved [name]? He had abandoned them just as cruelly as he abandoned everyone else. Would they welcome him with open arms?

Would they forgive him? Would they let him back in? Simply imagining any of those scenarios not working out felt like his heart was being torn from his chest, stomped on harshly, and being tossed into a wall.

No. Diluc cannot afford to come across as vulnerable in any way infront of [name]. Not at all. He was meant to be their hero. Their saviour. Their knight. The one who he felt an extremely strong urge to keep safe, to love and hold. Steeling himself, he approached the Dawn Winery, knocking softly on the door, patiently waiting for a maid, or even better yet, [name] to greet him. An almost giddy feeling took hold of his heart as the doorknob turned. Well, the air may have well been forced out of hos body at the sight of the person on the other side of the door.

Stunned was all he felt. Utterly astonished.

“[name],” he breathed out; his voice shaking slightly. “You’re here?” Diluc couldn’t believe his eyes. His darling was right there. They were as gorgeous as he remembered. Their soft eyes. Their hair. Their perfect lips that he has rested his upon countless times. All of them were there.

“Gods, you’re as beautiful as you were all those years ago,” he whispered — his voice full of adoration and affection. Even after 4 years of separation, the affection Diluc felt for them had not wavered. Not even once. That so-called ‘careless’ promise (as Kaeya called it.) That Diluc made to [name] all of those years ago suddenly came flooding back: “I’m gonna love you forever, [name]!! We will be together forever!”

That is what his younger self declared ever so confidently as he squeezed [name] in a loving hug.

Now, Diluc couldn’t help but chuckle to himself at the memories — his eyes full of fondness and pure infatuation. “May I come in?” He asks, gazing at them, practically with stars in his eyes.

What was he doing? He was normally so quiet! What’s happening to him? Why was he acting like a lovesick puppydog at the sight of them? Why was he acting like a lovesick puppydog at the sight of them?

“Yes, ‘Luc. This IS your manor, after all.” Was what they replied with, sending a pure wave of relief, joy, and fondness through his body. Though he managed to conceal it, the faint tinge of red on his cheeks gave away his emotions, eliciting a gentle chuckle from the person before him, who stood aside to let him in. Which Diluc did not waste any time in doing, he was immediately walking inside, gently closing the door behind him. Now that he was face to face with them — a somewhat awkward tension passed between the two.

(pov switch — 2nd person.. Sorry! ;-;)

Clearing his throat, Diluc broke that silence.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Please let me explain.” He said, subtly asking permission to tell you absolutely everything, to which you nod.

“Yes, ‘Luc. Please. I was constantly worried sick about you. Not knowing if you were alive, if you were safe. I felt so lost.”

The fact you had felt such despair over him leaving made him sick.

“Please, forgive me.”

He murmured, his voice and bravado wavering, slowly crumbling away, revealing the vulnerable man beneath.

“I hadn’t any intention to make you feel such emotion over my leaving. At the time I was not thinking about anything but the loss of my father, and was blinded utterly by my hatred to the Fatui, to the knights, and to Eroch. But also to myself. After losing my father, the organisation I had dedicated myself to betraying me, and then later on losing my brother, it was all too much. So I left. I left to find answers. I left and I didn’t bother to consider how that may affect you. I didn’t- even consider your feelings. I’m.. I’m so sorry, [name]. I’m sorry for leaving. I’m so sorry for making you feel such despair, for making it seem like I was dead. I hope you know that nothing I did was intentional, nor did I mean to stray away from your side for this long. Believe me. I was so utterly desperate to hold you in my arms once more. I did not leave with intention to hurt you. Or anyone. I did what I thought was best, but it was not.”

He looked to you, analysing your reaction, watching your features, awaiting your reaction. Expecting nothing but anger.

But he wasn’t.

Instead of shutting him out, you brought him closer. Embracing him tightly, burying your face in his arms, murmuring comforting words, telling him it will all be okay.

It caused his resolve to shatter, and sobs leave his lips, encircling his arms gently around you — holding you close to his scarred body, his head falling against your shoulder, a long sigh of contentment leaving his lips, closing his eyes. He was extremely exhausted, and all he wanted was to sleep, but this time, he didn’t want to sleep alone. No. He wanted you by his side. He wanted to hold you. He wanted to keep you with him forever, just as he promised you all those years ago.

“[name]?” Diluc whispers, lifting his head up, looking at you with an adorable, sleepy expression, a slight pout on his lips.

“Yes?” You responded, stroking his hair gently, scratching his head softly, the lazy, loving gesture drawing another soft sigh from his lips. The pout diminished into a soft smile.

“I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you. So much.” He admits, an embarrassed expression on his lips, squishing you gently against his muscular chest, one large, gloved hand holding the back of your head.

“I’ve missed you too, Luc.” You responded. Diluc couldn’t wait any longer. Gently, ever so gently, he tips your head up — and for the first time in 4 years, rests his lips against yours. Instantly he was full of so many emotions. Love. Fear. A slight protectiveness, too.

Breaking away, Diluc rests his forehead against your own, and a sweet smile tugs at his lips, staring lovingly into his eyes.

“I love you. I love you so much.” He muttered gently, his lips mere inches from your own. ‘Please say you love me too.’ He thought, closing his eyes as he awaited your response.

“I love you too.” You say instantly, staring back at him, smiling gently.”

“You do?” He gasps, his expression showing he was clearly caught off guard by that. To which, you replied witn a nod.

“I do. I always have. That promise you made about us being together forever? I was always hoping that you mean it.”

“I do, Gods, do I mean it.” He chuckles lovingly, cupping your face lovingly.

“[name], I apologise once again for leaving, but may I ask you something?” He murmurs softly — his tone full of hope.

“You can! What’s bothering you, Luc?” You smile softly, staring at him.

“I want to ask you to be my partner. Seriously this time. None of this casualness our relationship as teenagers had. I want to be the best for you.”

Well. That certainly caught you off guard, but you certainly wanted the same.

“I want to be your partner too, Luc.”

He let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, and looks into your eyes.

“May I kiss you once more, my dear?” Diluc asked, thumbs stroking your cheek sweetly.

“Yes.” You responded, and Diluc wastes no time in connecting your lips once more.

“I love you. So very much. I promise you, you will be the happiest person ever. I will make you as happy as you make me. If not happier.” He promised, lacing his hands with yours.

Smiling, you plant a kiss on his cheek.

“Welcome home, Diluc.”

“Home..” He said, sighing softly. “Thank you, my sweet.”

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine the beast pirates finding out you're good with animals

You: *snorkeling for shells in the reefs around Wano*

Octopus: *resting on your shoulder*

Goliath grouper: *keeps bumping into your hands, urging you to throw a rock to play with him*

Reef shark: *glued to your side to get cuddles*

Reef shark and grouper: *swim after what you thought was just a school of fish*

You: *turns around*

Massive Megalodon: *staring at you and only a few feet away*

Octopus: *inks itself and swims away*

You: if I'm gonna die I might as well. *Swims over and scratches its chin*

Massive Megalodon: *leans into your scratches and closes its eyes*

Later that night

King: where were you, I was looking for you all afternoon.

You: I went snorkeling, wanna see my haul!

King: you what! Those waters are very dangerous even for fishmen, you should never go out there again.

You: what why?

Jack: what's going on?

King: this dumbass swam out to Shiro reef.

Jack: how are you still alive?

You: I had a wonderful time, I played with the groupers, got to cuddle some sharks, got a bunch of interesting broken shells. And the reef itself was beautiful!

King: there's a Megalodon sea king that resides there, he's called the Tidal Fury, and he's a known man eater.

You: oh that was a sea king, I was wondering why he was so big. And his name is Stinky.

Jack: you saw it! Did it see you!

You: yes he likes having his chin scratched, he escorted me around the reef, and even brought me home.

Queen: * has been eaves dropping* bullshit

You: he did!

King: uh huh, and I shit gold eggs like in the stories.

Jack: there's no way a puny human is better with sea life than a fishman like myself, get real.

A few days later after returning from a raid

Kaido: keep an eye out for the Tidal Fury, if we lose another boat to that fuck I'm gonna be pissed

Jack: I don't think there's a need to worry too much especially since (y/n)'s best buds with the damn thing.

Queen: *snickers*

You: Shut up Jack.

King: *leans over to you and mutters* he's just jealous of you, he's been trying to make friends with the Tidal Fury for ages.

Jack: *takes a swing*

Scout: Sir the Tidal fury... he's on the port side bow.

The crew: *runs over to the side to see him sticking his head out of the water*

You: Stinky!! *Reaches out and scratches his chin*

King: holy shit you were telling the truth.

You: surprise! I'm gonna go swimming with my friend now, see you at dinner! *Throws yourself overboard and hops on top of Stinky*

Jack: what about unloading the ship!

You: I'm just a puny human, and you're big strong fishman, you can handle it all on your own.

Jack: Well fine, I didn't want to be friends with the Tidal Fury anyway!

You: His name is Stinky!! I named him after you! *Rides away*

Support me on Kofi and Patreon 6/4

[imbibitorlunaeluv]

Late Night Talks

You can't seem to get a peaceful night's rest, and neither can he.

Yuta Okkotsu x Fem! reader.

A lil drabble I made, basically for those who feel absoloutely guttered after a long day. L/N is your last name! have fun lovelies and DON'T sleep late!

This isn’t normal. None of this should be normalised to a teenage girl, a child who eliminates curses up until the sun rises up. But there are some who are considered gifted. Blessed to be stronger by others, and at all cost protect the weak. Though those rules are unwritten, it should be common knowledge by everyone.

I open the door to the dorms, my breath heavy as I fight the urge to close my eyes. A full week of enduring the need to faint is what I have overcome, and it may as well become part of my life by now. They say it is all well, the safety of others- of the weak, ensured.

The strong shielding the weak.

I lazily take off my combat boots, not caring what noise I may make at this time of night as I let my back collapse onto the sofa. I feel my sight become a blur, the taste and smell of curses still lingering in the air, the face of a helpless man screaming and kicking whilst making it harder to exorcise the damned cursed spirit.

To hell with the weak.

My right arm lifts up to cover my eyes, exhaling through my nose as I feel myself getting lightheaded,

“I feel like dying today…”

I mutter, to absoloutely no one. Besides, who in god's name would still be up by this hour?

“L/N-san?"

For some reason, something in me warms up just by hearing the familiar voice. I pry my hand away slightly, only to be met by a cursed boy’s dark silhouette in the dimly lit living room we both inhabit. His head peeked out from above the couch, leaning against the back of it while he looked down at me.

“Yuta…” I couldn’t fight the small smile forming onto my face, a slight bit surprised that I was caught off guard and couldn’t sense his presence.

“What… Why are you still awake?”

"I should be the one to ask you that."

I sit up slightly, propping myself up onto my elbows as I attempt to show a non exhausted grin, not like he could actually see it in such darkness.

“I just finished a mission… took longer than expected.”

He doesn’t at all seem satisfied with my answer. The change in atmosphere and posture could tell it all,

“Ah… alright then.”

“You don’t seem content with my answer, pretty boy.”

And he answers a beat later,

“You’re lying. Your missions usually take way longer than this.”

Even without seeing him clearly, the frown on his face was as bright as the sun. Ever since our shared conversation in the sushi restaurant, Yuta and I have been conversing more and more frequently without experiencing an awkward silence.

So attentive, I let a chuckle slip past my lips. The thought of having someone who could actually be awake enough to hear me come through the door is actually frightening. Having someone else who also has a messed up sleep schedule, or mind, accompanying me in the lonely night.

I gave into a smile, “You were always awake, weren’t you?”

A question that needed no answering to, making Yuta shake his head slightly as he walked to turn on the kitchen light instead.

“I never sleep- well at least I try not to…” his voice trails off, a yawn overcoming him as I sit up to get a better view of Yuta.

The way his eyes were begging to be closed shut, his slouched back and heavy eye bags were enough to make me feel slight pity. For a boy who claims to never sleep, he’s done particularly well in the art of combat. His passion, his determination, his love towards her.

I pursed my lips at the thought of Rika, “Do you never try to talk to… you know… Rika?”

A laughable question it might be, humorous to Yuta probably as I expected him to topple over laughing. But then again, it’s Yuta. The depressed cursed teenage boy I saved. The cursed boy merely smiles, holding his mug in one hand as he looks over to me.

“Not ever since being haunted by her face in my dreams, no.”

I experienced it too, is what I wanted to say. Although nothing leaves my mouth, I give an understanding nod instead. After realising that the past would always chase me till my sleep, I was slightly grateful for the stockpile of missions that made me occupied. I stopped consulting with Shoko as it proved to be of no help.

“Sometimes when I do see a glimpse of the past Rika… I feel sick to my stomach.”

I know the feeling.

“Knowing that I couldn’t even do anything made me feel useless… even until now.”

I’ve always felt that way.

“Sometimes I feel that Gojo-sensei was right… love is a twisted curse.”

Love is for the weak.

I let out a hum, eyes casted down to instead look at my nails and speak whatever comes to my head, “He told me the same thing. But I thought it was so I would steer away from dating anyone.”

And for a moment, I catch a glimpse of Yuta’s sheepish look.

“You-you’ve never… had a lover?” he questions me, his cheeks flaring up into a vibrant pink while avoiding any form of eye contact. He sounds lost, astounded, even. It’s as if the facts I conveyed to him were all white lies.

“Never really thought of having one, really. I admit that the topic of romance does hang higher in the books I read, but I’ve never experienced what it’s like to be loved romantically by someone.”

My explanation seemed to bring Yuta some courage to at least look me in the eye, his lips slightly parted at the information he received. He seems to stay like that for a moment, the same startled look looming on his features.

I take notes on his face features, softly lit up by the light shining right above the kitchen counter behind him. The colour on his face seemed to return after enrolling in Jujutsu High for a while, and he doesn’t look as skinny and bony as he did. His hair was growing a tad bit longer, more fluffy but never kept neat. My gaze goes down to his lips, his slightly chapped, parted lips.

I feel myself getting warmer by the second, my heart thumping so loud I can almost throw it up. He looks at me, with such eyes that cloud so much thought. And I absolutely feel myself getting weaker just by this, and I absolutely hate it.

I return my gaze to his eyes, “Too shocked to speak?”

Yuta flinches by the sound of my voice, almost as if he was in a haze whilst looking over at me. He then shakes his head, watching his unkept raven hair move as a blush rises to his ears. He covers his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes not meeting mine as I can barely make out his muffled voice,

“You’re just… too pretty

[lokisprettygirl]

Under his influence (Post Avengers! Loki x female reader)

Read chapter 1 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 2

Summary : The friendship between you and Loki grows as you both learn more about each other.

Warning: Soft loki alert again, Y/n is the type of y/n that says you know after every sentence..you know?, Mention of trauma and torture, drinking, cuddle bug do do do do, 4.5 k words approx

Loki took a deep breath as soon as he got inside the bathroom. Heavens Goodness this woman was choosing to trust him for some reason and he didn't want to do anything that would jeopardize her faith in him. He looked at himself in the mirror and out of nowhere it suddenly hit him that you were the only person who had trusted him in a very long time. Nobody trusted him. He was a trickster, a liar and now he was a mass murderer.

He clicked his fingers and the armor disappeared from his body, there were millions of bruises on every inch of his skin. That Hulk smash was brutal. He got under the shower and turned it to the coldest setting, as soon as the cold water hit his skin he was finally able to relax.

You kept hearing the knock on the door and you had a strong feeling who it could be. Mrs. Geller ofcourse

"Helloooo Mrs Geller" you gave her a fake cheery smile and you could tell she was trying to peek into your apartment.

"I thought I heard ya screaming" you gulped as she said that.

"I didn't scream..ohhh i actually did ..it was a rat..I saw a rat" you blabbed nervously.

"In your apartment?" She was disgusted by the notion.

"Yeah he was huge..bigggg bigg rat"

"Umm I hear the shower running" she said and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Sometimes you wanted to snap at her. Badly.

"Oh I was going to take a shower but then I heard you knocking soo"

"You know if there's a man in there you can tell me, i would be happy for you.. finally right?" You chuckled as she said that.

"There's no man i promise, you can come check if you don't believe me" you told her so she shook her head.

"Was only making sure you were safe dear"

"I know..I'm grateful.. thank you" you smiled and hugged her. She was just looking out for you but it felt like having a photocopy of your own mom, you didn't need another mom in life.

"I'll set a trap at my place..you do that too" she told you so you smiled.

"I will. Thank youuuu" As she went back to her apartment you took a deep breath. Okay there was still time, you could just call the Avengers and get yourself out of this situation before it would get even messier, you didn't even know this guy. What if he was just playing with you, they didn't call him the god of tricks for shits and giggles. Right?

"Y/n" you heard your name being called so you stepped closer to the bathroom door, he was peeking at you with his head out, his naked body remained hidden behind the door. He gave you a smile and that smile was going to be the death of you. Maybe you can get to know this man, he had given you no reason to not trust him until now. Besides you had the helpline number.

"Can I please get something to dry myself with?" He asked you so you walked towards the closet and came back to him with a towel. He had clothes in his vault but he needed an excuse to talk to you. Once he came out your eyes widened for two very different reasons, first of all those deep purple bruises on his body terrified you, he must had been in alot of pain and second of all you weren't expecting to see such a chiseled lean body hiding behind all that leather and metal.

"Ummm you could have just stayed in you know..you're barely clothed" you said to him so he gave his typical teethy smile again. For a terrorist, he did smile alot.

"Oh is this a nuisance?"

"You being half naked- dripping water everywhere in my living room? No it's not a nuisance at all" you answered sarcastically.

"Well nudity is a man-made construct..in Asgard--" He noticed the deathly glares so he decided to eat the rest of his words, you passed him an another towel and he used it to dry his hair.

His hair didn't look like a tree anymore, it looked soft and smooth and–

"Earth to Madame" you snapped out of your thoughts as he clicked his fingers. Should he tell you that he had clothes of his own? Probably not. "Do you have something for me to wear?"

You stomped on your feet and looked around your closet, there was a pair of black sweatpants and the matching t-shirt you had stolen from one of your boyfriends so you passed it to him, you turned around again as he dropped the towel from his waist to change.

"Thank you lady y/n" he mumbled after he was dressed. That shirt looked indecent on him, you were able to define every muscle underneath that tight constricted fabric.

"I'm going to shower too ..no funny stuff alright?" You warned him but he only got confused, his brows furrowed again, that gesture always made him look so innocent like an infant, a baby animal, a toddler.

He sat down on that ugly sofa and then he heard you yelling at him again which made him squeeze his eyes. The water must have been too cold for you, he'd have to keep that in mind, you were allowing him to stay here so graciously, he didn't want to ruin it. As you came out you asked him to stay right where he was, you wanted to put a bra under your clothes. He might have been a terrorist trickster god but he was still a man.

Grabbing the first aid box you made your way to the sofa and sat down next to him, he looked at your attire and it made him smile, you were matching with his attire from head to toe

"Ummm your cuts..will get infected..did they not patch you up?"

"Oh yes, they definitely patched me up before they arranged a feast to celebrate my presence here" you squinted your eyes in order to avoid an insulting retort. You poured the rubbing alcohol on a cotton swab then passed it to him. Should he tell you that he'd probably be alright by tomorrow?

"What shall I do about this ?" He asked you so you huffed before you snatched it away from him and rubbed it right on the long slit over his nose. He winced so you dabbed it in a gentle manner.

"Do you guys not have doctors or medicines on your alien planet?" He chuckled as you questioned him. Adorable. He found you adorable.

"Oh we do have our mighty healers over there. But it is all purely natural"

"Like ayurveda?"

"I suppose so"

"So what is your plan here? What are you trying to do" you asked him

"You want me to be entirely truthful?"

"There shouldn't be an alternative"

"I just want to loosen myself for a moment if you'd allow me to. It's been a while since I have had the pleasure of doing absolutely nothing"

"Awnnnn it must be a tough job terrorising other planets I am assuming" you pouted at the end of your sentence but he looked down in shame and it made you purse your lips together.

"I'm sorry..I am sorry I don't mean to be so snarky all the time"

"It's alright. I deserve that" his eyes teared up and then you felt even worse.

"Maybe you don't.. I..I don't know you or what happened with you and I shouldn't be judging you like this..so I just..it's just weird for me and I'm usually not this snappy. It's just ..things like this don't happen to me, it happens to other people you know? You know what I mean?" He shook his head as you said that. You suddenly leaned into him and his heart skipped a beat "What is that smell? My body wash doesn't smell like that?" You asked him and he gulped.

"Uhhh it's a scent"

"Like a perfume?"

"Yes"

"Huhh where did you get it from?" You asked him as you crossed your arms.

"My vault "

"Your what?"

"Vault..It's similar to that of a closet like the one you have..there"

"Uhhhuhh I hear you..And where exactly is this vault of yours?"

"In the outer space somewhere" your eyes widened as he said that but you didn't want to snap at him again, especially after you noticed the way he had flinched the last time. Was he used to being yelled at a lot?

"It smells expensive" he smiled as you said that. You saw the green shimmer you had seen before whenever he did magicky stuff, he waved his hand and there it was in his hand. A delicate looking bottle with the most intricate designs you had ever seen in your life.

"You can have it"

"Oh no nooo..I can't"

"I have plenty more where that came from, please have it for me. Just a small token of appreciation for the kindness that you have bestowed –"

"Okay I'll take it" you smiled and it made him smile too.

The door buzzed so you got up. It must be the pizza guy. You gave him a piece too but he didn't really like pizza, and found it too greasy.

After dinner you looked at him curiously. Where was he going to sleep? The couch was too small for him and-- there was only one bed.

Cliche. Cliche.

"So we sleep now?" He asked you

"Yeah, where are you planning to sleep?"

He looked at your bed and you shook your head immediately,

"Is this bedding pleasant enough for you? It looks small" he walked closer to the bed to inspect it as if he was the king of beds or something.

"It's all I can afford right now, after a long day I don't really care I just want to sleep..the apartment had all the other stuff but the thing I needed the most..I bought this one..it's my baby" he smiled and sat down on the bed. Your bed.

"Would you mind me asking about your occupation?" He asked you

"Yeah I'm a prostitute" he tilted his head and thought about it, he didn't want to say something offensive.

"Uhhh it serves you well?" You chuckled as he said that. He was adorable, if you hadn't seen his face all over the news you probably wouldn't have believed that this was the same guy who had supposedly terrorized the earth yesterday.

"I'm joking. I work in a gym, it's temporary..I .. have done a lot of things and changed a lot of jobs and anyways I'll sleep on the sofa because that's even tinier than the bed I got here and you won't fit in there because heyy you're taller than some of the buildings in Minnesota" you smiled at him but his eyes teared up instead. Why were you sacrificing your comfort for him? He didn't deserve your kindness.

"I am honored but –" he waved his fingers again and you gasped as you saw a bed a few feet away from your own. It was a lavish queen sized bed taking most of the space in your apartment

"That was in your closet?"

"Vault"

"Cool cool cool ..very well then.. get on your bed"

"No it's for you.. please take that one"

"Oh no no I'm not taking your princely sophisticated bed..noo" you said to him.

"It's for you" you took a few steps back until you hit the side of the bed

"I said no..are you listening to me? It's your bed, you'd fit in there and I want you to…ohh my godddd!!!!" you exclaimed as you sat down on the softest comfiest surface your butt has ever met with. He couldn't help but smile at your reaction

"Okay maybe I'll rest here for a minute..just 60 seconds okay?" you laid down and a small gasp escaped your throat, it was like floating in the heaven itself. This must be the bed they probably provide in heaven for all the heaveners.

"You do that"

"Just a minute"

"Sure" he laid down on your bed and it smelled like you, thoughts of wanting to cuddle with you infiltrated his mind so he smacked himself mentally, he can't possibly think about a woman he just met today in this sort of way. He turned the lights off as he watched you drifting into a deeper sleep and after several months he was finally able to fall asleep with no fear or threat looming over his head.

The next few days were insane, everyone was talking about him everywhere you went to and you were just seething internally everytime someone mentioned that war criminal Avengers were looking for. You hated how people talked about him and made assumptions, you didn't blame them, people got hurt in that attack, you were doing the same thing before you got to know him a little.

You had started to see him differently when he told you about his life in Asgard, he was a prince, a literal prince living under the shadows of his older brother, you have had friends and family members who wanted to upstage you so you understood his plight. When he told you about how he was the son of the monster all the Asgard despised, your heart rendered for him, everything he thought to be true about himself just didn't exist. One day he was the prince of Asgard and then in a moment his whole world was turned upside down.

"I just don't know who I am anymore, where do I even belong?" He mumbled and your eyes teared up, you didn't understand him completely but you understood some of it. You had felt lost most of your life. You placed your hand on his so he looked at you, his eyes were moist too and the sad look on his face always made you want to wrap your arms around him and hug him as tightly as you could.

"Ummm maybe with time everything will fall into the right place" he grabbed your digits in his large hand and then you felt his thumb rubbing against the back of your fingers, and it made your breath hitch in your chest. Everytime he touched you, you just wanted him to keep going but he never crossed that line of decency and you weren't sure if you wanted that either because you were enjoying having a friend who didn't seem completely selfish to his core.

"Time for margaritas" you got up and ruffled his hair with your hands before you moved to the kitchen. He probably wouldn't have allowed anyone to do it to him, nobody gets to touch his hair, but he owed you for literally saving his arse. Also because he enjoyed whenever you touched him like that.

"So do you have a girlfriend or something on your planet?" You asked him sheepishly as you sipped on your drink, it's been more than a week since he basically begged you to stay here and that particular curiosity has been bothering you since.

"A girlfriend?" He giggled

"Yeah like a lady friend, companion, consort sort of thing etc" That's right. You had books, you had Google on your phone.

"I do not have one at the present, ofcourse"

"But you used to?"

"I have been alive for a thousand years darling" your face flushed at the pet name. Damn!! he was a grand grand daddy.

"Yeah but not every person we are attracted to turns into a special person you know?" You asked him and he nodded.

"Well I was betrothed to the princess of Vanaheim, father - Odin wanted the alliance for political and regional purposes, safe to say I crushed all of his ambitions under my boots" he chuckled and you looked at him curiously.

"Arranged marriage? Did you like this Princess? I mean I don't know why you won't..she's a literal Princess but did you like her..like like her?" He kept staring at your face as you blabbed, his mouth curved into a smile and you just wanted to knock it off because it made you feel nervous.

"We met on every auspicious occasions, she was .. beautiful certainly " he let out a nervous laugh "Perhaps our affair would have developed further or not. Will never find out because I was thirsty for blood" he quoted his brother and even though he was smiling you could see the sadness on his features.

"Do you miss her?" You fidgeted with your fingers as you questioned.

"I only wish for her to be well. Enough of me, what about you? Are you of proper age to be wedded?" You burst out laughing as he said that

"Am I of age? I'm gonna be thirty in a week, THIRTY is like sixty for a woman here.. that's what my mom says by the way. Did you know I'm losing my eggs with time and I'll regret being alone if I don't find a guy right this moment and let him breed me so I could raise an insufferable depressed child just like me?" his brows remained furrowed as you finished your sentence.

"But you do not want to marry and have a child?" You sighed as he questioned, this was the part where it got really hard for you to explain what you wanted in life because everything you wanted was taken from you or just not meant for you. You turned your body towards him and he was looking at you with such intensity that you couldn't even maintain a proper eye contact, not for long anyways.

"I want it, I'm not against it but I want it with someone I want it with?" Your eyes teared up, you were slightly tipsy and you had someone listening to what you wanted to say, a man like him wanted to talk to you and all of it was making you emotional. He noticed the change in your mood so he scooted closer to you and placed his hand on yours again

"The first guy I ever remember liking was when I was 20, I was a late bloomer you see" you chuckled and he brought his fingers up to tuck your hair behind the ear, why would he do that? WHY WOULD HE DO THAT? God that tingled.

"What did he do?" He asked softly.

"He didn't do anything, he was just so confusing. I mean why would a guy talk to me everyday and flirt with me all the time if he didn't want to have something? One day he was into me the other day he was too broken from his past relationships, the third day he was again into me and then he'd ghost me point blank for two days and then he'd come back to repeat the cycle for months and I allowed it..it messed me up for a long time because he always made me feel as if I wasn't enough..as if I was doing something wrong and I continued to approach him even though he made it clear that he didn't want anything, because then i wondered if he'd come back in three days and change his tune again" as the tear slipped past your cheek he wiped it with his thumb, you felt his fingers running through your scalp and it calmed you down a little bit it was also making you feel several other things.

"You did nothing wrong my darling. He was a selfish,immature, pompous arse in the dire need of a distraction, i know of their kind very well" Well he grew up with their kind

"He's married now and I didn't even want to marry him because he was the least attractive man there ever could be. I don't even know why I liked him but it still hurts.. seeing people who had hurt you so much be so happy in life…it hurts" as your voice choked he instantly pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around you to hug you.

"Do you want to hear more?" You asked him between your silly cries.

"Yes" he answered instantly.

"The second guy was the guy who actually wanted to date me..I was 23, he was a year younger than me so it definitely was my fault, and it was a long distance relationship "

"Long distance?"

"Yeah like we were geographically apart?"

"So you never met each other?"

"We met twice" you facepalmed as you reeled in your stupidity "Long story short after a few months of the relationship and me not willing to put out for him, as in I didn't send nudes when he asked.."

"Nudes?" God he was so clueless about everything.

"Naked pictures of myself

"Understood"

"All of a sudden he didn't love me anymore you know and guess what? He fell for his best friend who had to be a girl of course.. you know what I ended up becoming? That girl in movies who comes between two obviously in love best friends. I got cheated on, I was led on, I got hurt and abandoned but somehow I was still the villain here..worst part is I liked him so much that even after he broke my heart we stayed friends and he'd ask me for tips so he could impress this best friend turned lover of his"

"And you gave him these tips he asked for?" He scrunched his nose

"Fucking yeahhh..I'm so stupid oh god..he broke up with me over the text, it was two days after he had told me that he loved me and saw a future with me..I'm so stupid"

"You're not stupid darling.. merely gullible"

"That doesn't make me feel any better"

He smiled as you said that but you weren't done talking. You'd talk until you'd drive this one away too. He'd probably get himself arrested after this. "Unfortunately I didn't just stop there ..i continued to befriend and get involved with selfish assholes all my life and now I'm old, I wasted my youth on those jerks and now I'm not as wanted as I was in my early 20s.. worst part is I wasn't even in love with those guys but I still allowed them to waste so much of my time and break me so much that I can't even trust anyone anymore"

"You're so far off the reality little one" he smiled so you glared at him.

"What?"

"You are ethereal, so very youthful as opposed to what you may choose to believe about yourself and you're so…" he gulped as he looked at you intently "Intriguing..any man would be fortunate to have a woman like you, but you do not deserve just any other man..you deserve the noblest of them all.. perhaps the reason you haven't found one yet " you sniffled as he finished his sentence.

"You are sweet"

"So you were not in love with them? Any of them?" He questioned so you shook your head in response. You loved some of them but you weren't in love.

"Noo..never. Maybe my perception of love has been skewed because of those romantic movies but I have never felt that intense type of love in my life..like ever. Never felt the chemistry..that bubbling scorching heat" he gulped as you said that as you got more and more animated with your hand gestures .

"Heattt?"

"Yeahhh you know when you're just so in love with someone that you just want to fuck them so hard, anywhere, everywhere..all the time.. and it doesn't matter how they look.. you just want to go wild on them because you're in loveeee"

"Perhaps you're confusing lust with love?" he blushed as he questioned so you shook your head.

"Noo the lust would mean you want to have raunchy sex with them and then go your separate ways. I don't want just thatttt..no no..i want to be there for this man..not just for the sex but for the bad and tough times..harddd hard times and for those insecure moments" you looked into his eyes and you could see his mouth open and close, because he had nothing to say. He was charmed.

"I want to treat him like he's the best thing to ever exist and I want to fuck him day and night because I'm so attracted to this gem of a man and then cuddle him until he's all happy in his head. And i want to gush about him all the time to every person i know and bite their ears off while I tell them how fucking gorgeous the love of my life is.. you knowwwww" he licked his lower lip as he looked at your heavy breaths after you finished your sentence. All of a sudden he wanted to be that man, he yearned to be the object of your fascination, he needed to be the man that you wanted to love and be in love with so deeply.

You couldn't stop staring at his lips and you kept wondering how it would be like to kiss him.

Oh god you were so very much attracted to him..oh fucking god.

Of course you were attracted to someone who you knew was way out of your league and practically non attainable. He wasn't even from this planet.

"You know if I'm ever talking too much especially after drinking margaritas you can just shut me up real quick" he chuckled as you said that.

"Pardon me for being unresponsive darling. I was just thinking about what you just said. It's uhh ..sweet and Passionate, it's alluring.. i understand now" Stop looking into his sea green eyes. Especially when he's talking.

"That's a relief..okay we should sleep" you gave him an awkward hug as you wished him good night. You could smell that cologne that you loved so much, the smell that resembled bergamot and roses.

Next morning you didn't have to work so you spent the day teaching him basic things in the kitchen, for example turning the stove on, making a nice cup of tea, or just simple eggs, he had never stepped a foot in the kitchen before but he was a fast learner. You noticed though that the heat was bothering him so after a while you threw him out of the kitchen.

That night you woke up and saw him trembling with fear on that tiny little bed, his knees were curled into his chest and he kept mumbling, asking them to not hurt him, he was begging someone to spare him today. You quickly got out of the bed and walked towards him, he always insisted on sleeping on your kiddie sized bed even though he was definitely too tall for it.

"Lokii?" You placed your palm on his forehead and he was sweating alot, you wiped the sweat beads off his skin with the sleeve of your shirt before you bent down on your knees at the edge of his bed.

"Looo? Wake up ..it's just a nightmare" god knew what he was seeing in that moment, he didn't tell you everything about him, or how much he had suffered. His eyes opened slowly and the lights were off but the window behind the bed made you able to see him.

"Are you okay?" You asked him softly and he sniffled in response then he shook his head, he sat up a little and you thought he wanted to talk to you but instead he leaned into you, wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you on the bed next to him. God he was soo strong.

Also you didn't have a bra on.

He laid down with you, one of his arm stayed curled around your waist, you gasped a little as he hid his face between the crook of your neck, his lips too close to your cleavage but you didn't think he was even thinking about the closeness at the moment. Maybe he just wanted to hold someone and be held in return so that's what you gave him, you lifted his head up for a moment just so you could place your arm underneath, sure your nerves would be dead by tomorrow but you figured it would be worth it.

You had not even hugged him for more than a few seconds before this but then how come this didn't feel weird at all? Why did holding him so close felt so natural? You heard his little whimpers and it snapped you out of the daydreaming.

"You're okay I promise..you're okay" you mumbled softly as your fingers ran over his scalp while the other hand caressed his back, his hair was as soft as you had imagined it to be. His hand lowered down from your waist, it briefly brushed over your cheeks before he grabbed your thigh and hooked it around his waist then his arm held onto your waist again. Okay you were physically, mentally and officially turned on now, you could feel your lips quivering because of the intimate position. Both of them. You felt afraid you'd start to hump against him in the middle of the night.

He fell asleep soon after, leaving you all warm and tingly inside. You may or may not have kissed his forehead once he did.

The next morning you thought things would get awkward between you two but you had no idea that this innocuous cuddling thing was about to become an important part of your bedtime routine.

🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

Tag list (if you want to be tagged or removed let me know)

@annoyingsweetsstranger @mcufan72

@nixymarvelkins @stupidthoughtsinwriting @littlespaceyelf @fictive-sl0th @huntress-artemiss @eleniblue @violethaze @anukulee @ladymischief11 @12-pm-510 @wolfsmom1

@whylokiissocute @hyperlokilover

[angelsdevils]

October 1, 2024 - Kakucho Hitto (TR)

A/N: Re-Written to fit the theme of halloweenlmao. Tokyo Revengers Warning: Obsessive behavior, supernatural elements, murder mentions, psychological horror

Tag List: @reiners-milkbiddies @thisbicc @bontensbabygirl @useless-potatho 

At first you thought you were going crazy — there was a shadow in your peripheral vision, the cold draft on a still night. No one would be that interested with you, right? Wrong. He wasn’t just stalking you — he was haunting you, a figure that followed your every step, protecting you in ways you never asked for.

But on October 1, 2024, it all became clear. You had returned to your home after a very long shift. Your boss made you work a double only one break. You were soaked to the bone from the sudden down pour. As you stepped into your house, a wave of warm air and the scent of your favorite meal hit you. It was comforting at first, but then red alarms went off in your head. You lived alone. No family. No friends. No one to cook you a meal. Lightening flashed outside of the windows, casting a twisted shadows on the floor. On the stove sat a pot of chili, still warm, and beside it was a note. 

“I know you had a hard day. I made you chili, don’t worry it’s safe to eat. Rest well, love. <3 – Yours Always. 

A chill ran down your spine, and you checked every room in the house, but there was no sign of an intruder — no sign of forced entry either. Just the presence of something dark. You felt a pair of eyes on you the entire time, but no one was there. 

What made you realize you probably needed psychological help though wasn’t because of fear. For some reason, you felt safe and comforted. You went to reach for your phone to call the police, but a message buzzed across your screen: 

Unknown: Don’t call the cops. I won’t hurt you. I’m here because I care for you. I love you. 

You: Who are you? What do you want from me? 

Your hands trembled holding your phone, falling into a chair in the kitchen. 

Unknown: Just a man in love with you, Someone who wants to protect you. I can’t reveal myself, once I do, you’ll never be free from me. 

You: Reveal yourself. 

No reply came that night, but the next day you woke up, something had shifted. You walked out of your bedroom after getting ready for work. You went to the kitchen to grab your keys but you froze. You found a bouquet of flowers on the counter, and inside the flowers was another note, and a black card. You know the card that has no limit? Yeah that was there and in it was engraved your name in gold lettering. You picked up the note and read it.

“Don’t worry about work. Your boss won’t be a problem anymore. I’ll take care of you from now on, my love.” 

Fear swirled in the pit of your stomach, and you had a strong urge to turn on the news. So you rushed to your living room, and turned it on. The news headline scream: Local Man Found Dead in an Office Fire — Foul Play Suspected. Your phone buzzed again, and you shakily opened the message.

Unknown: Don’t be sad. I don’t mean to scare you, But he confessed that he was going to hurt you. Now, he can’t. I won’t let anyone harm you.

You took in a deep breath, you didn’t know how to respond. You just stared at the message, tears falling from your eyes. You looked back at the new, quickly turning it off unable to stomach such a thing knowing he died because of you. Your fingers finally moved across the screen.

You: Why? Why would you do this to my job? To my boss? You say he was gonna hurt me but… why?

Unknown: I can’t tell you exactly what he planned to do with you, just know I have access to the black market, and I saw something I didn’t like. No one will hurt the girl that I love. No one. 

You dropped your phone, burying your face into your hands sobbing quietly. You were terrified even though deep down you felt safe around him, he still did something terrible what if one day he turns on you and severely hurt you?

You: How can you love someone you have never met before? 

Unknown: We do know each other, we have known each other for a long time, since we were kids. 

You: When…. can I meet you? I think I deserve who is doing all of these things. 

Unknown: That’s not a good idea, you will never see me the same as you do. But if you really want too, I can reveal myself. But as I said before, you will be mine completely. 

You: Can I atleast know your name?

Unknown: The rules are still the same… are you sure?

You hesitated, if he told you his name or revealed himself, that meant you would be his and only his. That terrified you, but you had to know. 

You: Yes. 

Suddenly, you felt a presence behind you, it was comforting kind of. A cold breath hit the back of your neck. Slowly, you turned around, your heart was pounding in your chest. Standing directly behind your couch was Kakucho. You were raised in the same orphanage as him. Shadows stretched out on the floor, his dual color eyes stared at you one red and one white. He had a grin on his face it was sharp. 

The house lights flickered off, all at once and a candle lit on its own. Your head snapped to the candle before going back to Kakucho. 

His shadows wrapped around your ankles and you gasped as they brought you to him. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly. He buried his face into your neck, taking a deep breath.

“You smell so good, you always did. Like caramel apples. Like… home.” He whispered against your skin.

“Kakucho?” You whispered. But he wasn’t the same person you knew, he wasn’t even human. He had horns on his head, and the shadows wrapped around you like a warm embrace. 

He stepped further into the room, with you in his arms. The candle light flickered crossed his tanned skin, his clothes was streaked with blood. You could see the outline of something monstrous beneath his human form. 

“You have always belonged to me, I was just simply making it seemed like you had a choice.” His voice was softer then the winds outside. “I have been watching you since we separated and I joined Bonten. It was the only way to protect you from a fate worse than you could imagine. From things that were worse then me.”

“You aren’t human anymore…”

“I was never human,” he said. Your breath hitched and his blood hands brushed against your cheek. His touch was freezing cold. You couldn’t help but flinch. “I killed him for you,” he said, referring to your boss. He leaned down, and pressed his lips against yours. “He was going to do terrible things to you… I couldn’t let that happen.”

“What are you, Kakucho?” 

He gave you a small smile, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. “I am not alive or dead. Just a monster, that was sent to seek havoc on this world, but after meeting you when we were kids, I couldn’t bring myself to do anything to harm you. The closer we got, we became bound together. No matter where you go, where you hide, I will find you. We are stuck together, like the red string of fate. Except this is something much darker. 

He pressed his lips against yours once more, and suddenly you felt exhausted. His cold lips lingered as you faded into a darkness and fell into his arms.

“I love you dear, you will be okay. I promise.”

© [@angelsdevils] all rights reserved. none of my posts or stories should be modified, reposted, etc. I do not own the character or the fanart, but I own the plots of these stories. All fanart goes to their appropriate owners. 

[abiiors]

feeling very much not body positive about myself and need a nice strong man (named ross) to comfort me 😭

i'm so sorry you're struggling a lil with your body rn :( i hope your day's a bit better today <3

cw: mentions of body insecurities, suggestive but no actual smut

it first happens when you're supposed to go out for the evening--nothing fancy, just trying out a little food truck that caught his eye last week. it's as casual as it can get, and yet here you are, trying on outfits after outfits, trying to find the perfect combination. trying to nail the line between cute and casual.

except nothing fits!

the top you loved two weeks ago now makes your tits look saggy. the jeans you've always adored fits your butt weird. the skirt makes your thighs look huge. outfit after outfit that you toss away makes the pile of the bed grow bigger and yet nothing. looks. good.

and short of wishing for the giant pile of clothes to swallow you whole, there's not much you can think of right now.

until ross opens the bedroom door.

his eyebrows fly up into his hairline, his mouth parts and his face turns from confused to aghast. "you aren't ready yet?! babe! i'm fucking starving, i thought you'd be down fifteen minutes ago!"

he doesn't mean to sound so sharp, of course he doesn't but the tone of his voice makes matters worse. now on top of feeling ugly, you also feel useless. scolded like a child by your own boyfriend for being late. sudden tears sting your eyes, your throat feels tight and you turn away from him.

it's not that serious for fucks sake! of course he's right to be annoyed, he's probably been waiting for a while. but in the mirror you see his face turn back to confusion and then concern.

"love, you alright?"

"mm-hmm" it's sounds pathetically small coming from you as you try to swallow the tears and find a fucking thing to wear. anything would do at this point.

"hey, look at me," he says again, much gentler this time and that somehow makes it worse. you do the exact opposite though, trying to hide your face so he won't see the tears that are about to fall.

you pick up the white t-shirt from the floor, resisting the urge to sniffle or wipe your cheeks.

it's not that serious.

it's a fucking food truck.

"sorry, was just trying to find this t-shirt!" you try to keep your voice as bright as possible and cringe when it comes out mechanical and fake. it shouldn't be such a surprise really, everything's been wrong today--your clothes, your hair, your smile. fuck. your entire body is wrong.

that should be the only explanation.

there's some movement behind you and you feel his hand on your hip, the same hip you were busy frowning at in the mirror only minutes before--scrutinising the extra flesh, glowering at the not-quite-flat stomach. his touch makes you flinch, not because it's unwelcome. far from that actually. it's so he won't be able to feel your body the way you see it--out of shape and ugly.

ross staggers, utterly baffled. his mouth hangs open, like he's about to say something but can't quite get the words out. it's not what you wanted--to make him feel like he's done something wrong.

"sorry, sorry!" you mumble quickly, trying to navigate around the clothes on the floor. "sorry, i didn't mean-- i didn't--"

"baby," he says calmly, and god his eyes are so fucking kind that it snaps the last tether on your emotions. you can't help the tears welling up anymore, the quiver of your chin or your trembling lips. ross' face falls and your feel worse for it.

ross's expression softens as he takes a step closer, concern etched across his features. he wraps his arms around you gently, pulling you into a warm embrace. the tears you tried so hard to hold back now stream down your face, and you bury your head into his chest.

"hey, hey," he murmurs soothingly, rubbing your back in slow circles. "what's going on, love? you can tell me."

you sniffle, trying to compose yourself. "it's just... nothing fits right, and i feel so... i don't know, out of place, wrong, ugly--"

"stop." his voice is firm but gentle and his mouth is pressed in a thin line. "i wish you could see what i saw...

"i love you so much, sweet girl. i love your body and your face and your personality. i love your hips, i love grabbing them when you're on top of me. i love how you make me feel." you blush at his words remembering the number of times his hands have been on your hips, tightly gripping them, helping you move.

"i love your thighs and how they feel around me, i love kissing them and biting them and i love the sounds you make. and don't even get me started on your tits--"

"ross," you slap him lightly, giggling through the tears. it makes him smile too--his real gorgeous smile that shows his dimples and makes his eyes crinkle. the smile that makes you smile and swoon.

"no no, let me continue," he smiles cheekily, slapping your ass which makes you squeal.

"you're going to make me cry more!" you whisper, voice watery but there's a smile on your face now and that's all that matters to him.

"kiss?" he asks sweetly, leaning down and oh you need it so much more than you'd realised because you crash your lips against him instantly, holding on to him as he kisses you sweetly--long and sweet and languid. his arm is firm around you, holding you flush to his chest and you can practically feel his smile through the kiss. it's all-consuming, like nothing else matters when he's kissing you.

until his stomach growls out of nowhere and you pull away, giggling at him.

"fuck, i'm so sorry, love. we should just go, you're hungry."

ross clicks his tongue, pulling you into a hug. "let's just stay home and order pizza. i feel a bit lazy now anyway."

you consider it--the thought of getting dressed and going out right now feels astronomical anyway but he's been looking forward to this for so long. he's been--

"don't overthink it," he scolds gently. not that it should come as a surprise really that he knows you well enough to know every thought inside your mind.

"fine. let's stay home then," you pull back and smile at him. it's not exactly how you thought the evening would go but hey, it's not like you're complaining about it.

[misc-obeyme]

So, i want to share a few smaller headcanons that i have about the OB cast!

- When Beel is in a good mood and/or happy, you can hear the faint sound of fly wings going "Buzz Buzz." Beel also rubs his hands together before eating his meals just like how Flies rub their hands together.

- One rare occasions when Belphie can't sleep, he'll count cute Mc sheeps to fall asleep. He also snores similar to cartoon characters like "Honk shoo mimimi." He swats away any biting bugs/flies away with his tail if they annoy him during his naps.

- Raphael has a talent for Swallowing Swords/Knives/Speers.

- Mephistopheles likes "My Little Pony," and his favourite character is Rarity. He and Leviathan talk about MLP all the time. Mephistopheles has a strong kick, similar to how strong horses can kick someone.

- Thirteen likes calavera makeup, and every year, she dresses up as La Calavera Catrina to celebrate the "Day of the Dead" also called "Día de Muertos" ((Day of the Dead is a joyful time that helps people remember the deceased and celebrate their memory.))

- Solomon likes to watch his descendants fondly from afar even if he can't be part of their lives.

- Mc dressed up as a giant pickle once and scared Diavolo half to death (not really, but he was definitely spooked)

- After the brothers were cast out from the Celestial Realm, God created Jesus, making him the 8th brother.

- Every year around Christmas time, Satan accidentally receives "letters to Santa" from young children with dyslexia confusing the words "Santa" and "Satan," so Satan writes back letters to the children pretending to be Santa. (I wonder if Santa Claus exists in the OB universe?!). Satan, after coming to terms with his existence and his place in Devildom alongside his brothers, wanted to share his ideology and wisdom with humans. So he created a new religion that encourages hedonistic urges and desires but emphasizes heavily on keeping to yourself and not bothering or offending anyone else as you act on those desires. He called that religion "Satanism", unfortunately, humans misunderstood and painted him as evil and spreading rumours that is Satanism all about sacrificing Animals/children/virgins for selfish gain which pissed Satan off.

- Barbatos likes to be in control and puts everyone's needs before his own. He's always there for others, but he won't let anyone easily reciprocate. Because of his greed, he's afraid to lose himself in his passions/desires, so he keeps all his feelings bottled up. He fears his selfishness, consuming him whole and losing himself to the darkness. That being said, Barbatos once said, "I don't want to give myself completely to the darkness, and i won't as long as you're with me" to Mc. Basically, Mc is the "light" to his "darkness," and he would do anything in order to protect his light. There's a quote that i really like that fits perfectly. It goes like this; "Love is not blind. It sees you in the dark and chooses to be your light."

Anyway, that's it. This low-key got a little bit loooong, Ooooops.

-Angsty Anon.

That's it, I'm counting cute sheep MCs to help me sleep from now on. Please, that sounds so adorable 😭

Also excuse you with the Solomon one! Like my man isn't lonely enough, now he's watching his descendants from afar?? He would, too. :(

JESUS IS THE 8TH BROTHER aklj;sdfkljdskjlf what would have happened if God had made him at the same time as everybody else!??!?!

Poor misunderstood Satan! I'd be pretty pissed too if a bunch of idiot humans decided to make me evil and sacrifice babies in my name.

Ahh, Barbatos my true love. He's definitely got something about himself that he feels he needs to control to the point where he almost never lets go... one day maybe we'll learn about that mystery of his that he keeps so well hidden...

I quite liked all of these, thank you for sharing!

[carefreecoffee]

Flufftober Day 11: Meet cute w/ Atsuhiro Sako

Word count: 1.3k, Female reader

It was a rather packed night at the live music induced club. The somber sounds of music melding with the light banter from the patrons. The smell of smoke and booze lingers thoroughly across the shared space as your voice personifies the moment. The stage was your world and you were like its universe. 

The tune of the orchestra died down as your song ended. With a bow, you exit the stage for the next musician to take the spot. Unknowingly as you had walked off stage, Sako took another drink finishing his glass before he followed after you, catching up to you easily. 

“My my, what a marvelous performance. I haven't heard such a heavenly voice in a good long while.” 

You glance over at the man courting you. He looked relatively kind. At Least kinder than most of the male patrons you’ve encountered. 

“Oh, thank you sir. I appreciate the compliment” You give him a small smile as you turn to face him. 

“You're most certainly welcome sweetheart. I couldn't resist the urge to compliment such an awe-inspiring performance. Not many people have the same talent you do, it was truly remarkable!” 

He said with a smirk, trying to flatter you as he walked next to you. “I just have one question.” You chuckle at his well-rounded manners. “Yes?” 

“What is a lovely songbird such as yourself doing in a place like this? A talented woman such as you deserves so much more than a small local club.” He says, giving you a charming smile. 

You shrug and approach the bar with him, sitting on the padded stools, “Close to home. It's the only place i've ever known, really. However, finding bigger stages is a feat I'm willing to take one day.” You smile softly and order a drink. 

He orders himself another drink as well before sitting down next to you. He chuckled lightly at your answer. “You say you're willing to try it one day, but why not try to go bigger now? I'm sure a woman like yourself could make it into the top leagues of the performing arts.” He said with a smile, trying to flatter you still. “After all, with a beautiful face and a golden voice such as yours, why not go for the biggest stage there is.” 

You feel your face flush slightly at his words as you fix my posture, looking toward the stage. “I’ve been singing here for years, I guess it's too strong a habit to truly break.” 

He smirked when he saw your face flush, noticing he was getting somewhere with you. “Staying in one place does tend to get into your system and before you know it, it's a habit as you say. However staying in one place isn't always a good thing especially when you've got a talent like yours. I think you should branch out, try other places and see what other work you can get.” He said, his quest to flatter you further reaching fruition. 

You perk up at his words, soaking them in. “I enjoy your flattery sir. Say, what's your name if you don't mind?” You take a sip of your drink eagerly. “My name? Well it's quite rude of me to not introduce myself yet, I do apologize.” He chuckled, a smirk still present on his face as he took a small sip of his drink, “The name's Atsuhiro, and you darling are?” 

You lean into the bar, still keeping your eyes focused on his refreshing demeanor. “Y/N, nice to meet you, Atsuhiro.” You lend out a hand for him to shake. 

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Y/N.” He takes your hand, a smirk present on his face as he gently shakes it before letting go. “It's a pretty name, it fits a woman such as you.” You blush a bit, “My, you are quite the flattery type hm? Do you do this with every woman singing you meet?” Your jesting statements lead him to exert a chuckle loving the reactions he was getting from you 

“Of course not, I only do it towards the ones who catch my eye. You, my dear, are the only one here tonight that has.” Your eyes linger on him for a moment before breaking back down to your drink. “I appreciate your kindness, Atsuhiro. It's quite refreshing.” That in of itself was no lie. He seemed like the most personable person here even while consuming alcohol. 

Feeling satisfied with the impact he's having on you, he chuckles softly as he gives you a charming smile. “It's only the truth, after all. Someone as beautiful as yourself shouldn't go unappreciated after a show like that. That voice was positively enchanting.” 

You look back at him before laughing slightly, “I’m here every Friday if that makes you feel better. You'll know where to find me and when.” He smirked. “That certainly makes me feel better knowing I'll be able to hear more of that heavenly voice once more. Perhaps, I could buy you a drink every Friday as well? Maybe during the show, or after.” You think for a moment before nodding slowly, taking up his offer. “Yeah.. that sounds nice, I think I'd enjoy that very much.” You smile graciously at him, finishing your drink. 

He smiled back at you as you finished your drink, watching you intently as he took the last few sips of his drink. “Good, I'm glad you'd enjoy that.” He looked at your now empty glass, the smirk back on his face. 

“Another drink?” You wave your hand in protest, checking out your bill. 

“Ah, no thank you. I have to keep my voice in its best shape so one drink is enough for me.” He nods is understandment. “Ah, of course. How silly of me, you need to stay in top shape after all. Would hate to be responsible for ruining a perfect voice.” 

He said, a hint of a smirk still present on his face. He was making up his mind very quickly about you. His eyes lingered on you for a few more seconds before they went back to your face, a small smile present “May I ask you a question, Miss Y/N?” You scan your eyes toward him expectantly with a hum. He smiled softly at you. 

“That performance of yours, how long have you been practicing that?” You think for a moment before recalling some of your most vivid memories.“Since I could remember really. It's always been a passion of mine. My parents were good friends with the owners of this place and all so it was easy to get into the business.” He smiled a little more as he listened to you talk, enjoying hearing more about you and your history with singing. 

”The passion is quite clear. Not many people can sing like you do let alone keep a performance going for so long like that.” You thank him before looking back at the conglomerate of people briefly.”Say, do you have a number I could contact you at? I think I'd enjoy getting to know you better.”

 He smirked slightly, happy about your advances. He pulled out a little piece of paper and a pen from his pocket scribbling a number on the paper before handing it to you. 

“Here you go, feel free to call or text me whenever you'd like. I'd enjoy getting to know you as well, Miss Y/N.” You smile and slip the paper into your pocket eagerly. 

He smiled at your gratefulness, enjoying seeing you happy. “I'll be sure to drop by next Friday too, wouldn't want to miss the chance to hear that heavenly voice of yours.” 

And after that he never did miss a performance. He was a man who kept his promises when it came to the beauty of not just the arts but of yourself as well. 

[stitched-mouth]

Inappropriate Workplace Behaviour

Pairing: Lord Death x Younger! Secretary! Fem! Reader.

Summary: Lord Death can’t stop jacking off to his decades younger secretary.

Warnings: Smut, Masterbation, Mutual Masterbation, Fingering, Age Gap relationship (all parties are 18+), Boss x Employee, Vouyerism, Lord Death is a perv in this.

Writing Time: 1 hour.

Word Counter: Later.

Format: Kinktober Fic, Day 8.

A/N:

Bro this was supposed to be headcannons how did it become a fic , I should be on Day 9 now. Why do I always do this to myself

I hope you enjoyed my first Lord Death fic. I said he’s a perv so he’s a perv.

Lord Death was shocked to say the least, when he first realised he had a strong attraction you. An attraction he didn’t think any man should have for anyone so close to his son’s age.

Or for his own secretary.

He would lie awake at night, fistful of his own dick, thinking about you. How you dressed that day. Simple black suit with heels that you didn’t think was that eye catching at all.

But it certainly got your boss’s attention, with the way it hugged your figure and emphasised your breasts and ass.

Poor Death would have to cover his own mouth from his loud moans from his own touching. He definitely wished it was your hand though over his mouth.

Could you blame him though? It was a nightmare hiding his boner all day, he had to stay put tucked into his desk.

He would imagine leading you from your desk outside his office into his office and just having his way with you on his desk. He would imagine what your moans and cries would sound like, he imagined them to be sweet and beautiful.

Just like you.

His small obsession would grow into somewhat of an addiction. You started noticing Lord Death’s change around you when he started complimenting your outfits more.

I mean, he always did give you a small compliment everyday which could be about anything.

“Lovely to see your adorable smile this morning!”

“Nice shoes, dear. Are they new?”

“I like your hair today. The new look really suits you!”

But they had always been small things in passing that you noticed Death did for everyone in the office. It was like his mission to give everyone one compliment everyday.

But it changed when they became more about your clothes and your curves and happened up to four or five times a day.

“Lovely skirt dear…looks so good on you.”

“Careful with that fit love, it will have to boys your age all over you.”

“My my my, have a date tonight do we?”

That and the small touches he’d add here and there. A hand on your back whilst he spoke to you, a hand on your chin when admiring your outfit… you could go on.

You knew the Lord Death had a little crush on you. At this point it was so obvious. And being the mischievous little shit you are, you decided you’d tease him a little bit.

With just little things. Small touches, figuring out which kind of outfits he liked best and almost exclusively wearing them, slightly bending over when he was near to pick something up or see something better just to give him a nice view… and so on.

Lord Death wasn’t a fast as you. He didn’t realise you was now doing it on purpose.

One day after a lot of your teasing, he excused himself to his office and shut the door. Something he rarely ever did. So you went over to the door and peeked through the key hole. What you saw you found shocking.

Lord Death had finally given to one of his urges and ripped off all his clothes and started mastbasting in his desk chair.

He stared nervously at the door as he jerked himself off and moaned your name, worried someone would walk in even though he had locked the door.

You suddenly felt tight and empty.

You looked around, looking for anyone nearby. After evaluating the area and deeming it safe, you decided to take a possible career ending risk just like your boss.

You pulled down you tights and panties down to your knees and hiked up your skirt a little, before slowly rubbing two fingers over your clit.

When you looked down into your panties you could see how wet they had become from the spending the day with Death and now when you caught him touching himself in his office.

You looked back up in the key hole when you heard him cry. His knees slowly raises a little then his heels digged into the floor as he got lost in his fantasy. You bit your lips and moved to fingering yourself with the same two fingers that were just on your clit, as you watched your boss get himself off.

Clearly, he was having just as much fun as you was. His head fell back against his chair and closed his eyes when he felt himself come closer and closer to his edge. You knew he was close which made you sink to your knees and bit your free hand, forcing yourself to edge yourself.

You didn’t want to orgasm just yet, but Lord Death was close and you was expecting him to get up and open the door when he was done. So might as well finish with him.

You watched your boss cum into his hand with a loud moan. He panted and fell limp against his chair as he calmed down from his high. You added another finger inside yourself, hoping you’d cum faster. But sadly, you just wasn’t quite there yet.

And so as Lord Death slowly got up, cleaned up and dressed himself again you scrambled to find your orgasm. He seemed to be taking forever and still nobody was coming so you closed your eyes and kept fingering yourself.

You finally felt yourself close to edge and moaned in glee.

Until you suddenly fell forward onto someone’s legs. You froze in humiliation and fear and couldn’t bare to look up at your boss in such a position. Lord Death looked down at you, feeling only shock and suddenly more arousal.

“Ah pretty girl, what are you doing?” Lord Death asked with a worried look as he helped you off your face and sit up straight.

You still had your fingers inside of yourself, which there was no way Death hadn’t noticed.

“Um… You was doing it too!” You stuttered nervously.

You sat on the ground and spread your legs slightly to remove your fingers from yourself and pull up your tights and panties before immediately slamming them shut again. But Death had already got a sneak peak of the very thing he was just imagining.

He was quiet for a few seconds before speaking up, “If you want, we can act like this never happened?”

Lord Death still didn’t quiet get you was into him. He didn’t understand why you were fingering yourself outside his door but assumed it was either a complete misunderstanding and not what it looked like OR you was just a perv.

You looked at him sadly and huffed, “No! Um er, it’s not fair you got to cum and I didn’t. So I have to cum first.”

Your confidence from your teasing persona came back and you quickly pushed Death back into his office and closed and locked the door.

Considering you had given Death so many orgasms since you started working there with your body and clothes, the least he could do is give you one back.

[lisbeth-kk]

Continuing the May prompts with a letter story. Thanks for the tag @calaisreno

Healing letters

After grieving Sherlock for months, John decides to write down his feelings, just like his therapist, Ella, advised him to. First he tries to actually write. Physically. It’s too strenuous. He’s not used to writing by hand anymore. Besides the pages more often than not, gets soaked from his dripping tears, and the ink gets smeared all over the paper.

He'll use the blog, but he’ll disable comments. Although he does it for his own sanity, it may help the few friends he’s got to understand what he’s going through. He hasn’t exactly been socialising since Sherlock jumped off that roof, and he rarely answers his phone. 

He wants it to be a system to this. Each blog post will have its own topic. If not, John’s confident it’ll be just him babbling, not even making sense to himself. Today he feels a bit less depressed, and he can start with the anger.

I’m so angry with you, Sherlock. How could you kill yourself in front of me? Making me witness my best friend jump off a building to his death. Did you think I wouldn’t mind? That I wouldn’t grieve you just because I was pissed with you when I left you? You, the most observant man who’s ever walked the earth. How could you not know, you meant the world to me? What do you think it was like talking to you when you stood up there? I heard the tears in your voice, and you must’ve heard my despair as well. When I saw you lying at the pavement, my life ended too, you know. My whole world shattered. You were taken away before I could say a proper goodbye. How do you think that made me feel, Sherlock? Damn, you!

John’s mentally exhausted after posting the entry. He’s shaking with anger against Sherlock. Without giving it a second thought, he grabs his jacket and heads out to get some air. He walks quickly wherever his feet carries him. He doesn’t care much, and he must look quite intimidating, because other pedestrians are clearly avoiding him.

He makes tea and toast when he gets back. The anger has dissipated a bit. It’s actually liberating to feel something again. For weeks he’s just been numb. Haven’t cared about anything. He startles when his phone buzzes. A text from Molly. He deletes it without looking. She has most likely read the blog entry and wants to comfort him or something. Mike and Greg texts him a few hours later. John deletes those texts too. 

***

A few days later the anger is long gone. Another feeling has emerged in his mind the last couple of hours. His faith in Sherlock. It’s always been there, but never as strong as it is now. Curious, that.

From the first day I met you, I had faith in you, Sherlock. That drug bust at 221B told you that much. Perhaps I put you on a pedestal for a while, come to think of it. Nevertheless, despite all your odd habits, sulks and annoying behaviour, I always believed in who you were. The core of you. Not to flatter myself, but I think I knew you quite well. Perhaps not as well as Mycroft, although he once said that I knew you best of all. All that’s been said about you after you died, makes me believe in you even more. Because I know, Sherlock, that you never were a fraud. You may have shammed and tricked people for a case, but you were never a fake. To the day I die myself, I’ll deny that with everything I’ve got.

Again, John’s mentally exhausted after posting the new entry, but in another sort of way. The adrenaline doesn’t zing through his veins. It’s more like he’s poured out his soul. And in a way he has. He’s never uttered those words to anyone. 

Before the day is over, his phone buzzes with texts from Molly, Greg and Mike. He deletes all of them without reading. This quest is something he wants to execute without input from anyone.

***

A week passes without the urge to write. When the familiar nightmare appears one night, John knows it’s time for another blog post. He had waked screaming Sherlock’s name, seeing him fall from that roof again. His heart pounded like he’d run a marathon and his face was wet from crying, sobbing really.

How did I fail to see that something was amiss, Sherlock? I loathe myself for not observing you more thoroughly. Moriarty clouded my vision. You were so absorbed in his endeavours to get your attention. Flattered maybe, that another genius wanted to play with you. I should’ve seen that his only goal was to destroy you. He said so the first time. At the pool. “I’ll burn the heart out of you.” Whatever he meant by that. He certainly burned the heart out of me, if he had anything to do with your suicide. It must’ve been that. You would never do what you did unless you had no other choice. Am I right, Sherlock? I think I am, which makes it even harder to bear. The thought that if I’d been just a little bit smarter, more alert, less stubborn and angry with you....I might’ve saved you.

John shuts his phone off and drinks half a bottle of whisky after posting that entry, or letter as he’s started to call them. 

***

This will be his last letter. John knows that this also will be the hardest one, and maybe it’ll be the one that starts his healing properly. His grief’s still raw. Some days are better, other worse. This one tip more in favour of the latter.

How much can a man grieve before it destroys him, Sherlock? All I know is that I’ve grieved enough to last a lifetime. That said, I’ll never stop grieving you. You were the best thing that ever happened to me. Being in your orbit, saved my life. I was so lost back then, and now I’m even more lost. Because now I know what it’s like to be whole, to have a purpose, to wake every day, feeling excited about what may await me. A new case, a severed head in the fridge, listening to beautiful music from your violin, having takeaway from our favourite places, or dinner at Angelo’s, bantering with you about the lack of milk, or nagging you to eat something. There are so many things that vanished from my life when you died, Sherlock. Are you aware of that? I’m just existing nowadays. The amount of tears I’ve shed could fill the pond in Regent’s Park. I’ve hid them here at Baker Street. Out and about I put on a mask. Motionless. Stony. Speaking of. I’ve only been to your grave once since the funeral. The stone fits you. Polished, black with golden letters. Only your name. No dates or quotes. I talked to you when I stood in front of that stone. Asked you for a favour. To do one last magic trick. For me.

For an unknown reason, John enables comments after this entry, but hours go by, and the comment sections are still empty. Maybe he’d miscalculated people’s interest in him. After all, the readers of his blog were all interested in Sherlock, not in him, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise.

He takes a shower and heads for the bedroom when he hears a sound he hasn’t heard for ages. Someone’s commented on the blog. Probably Molly or Mike. His curiosity gets the better of him, though. The comment is on the last entry.

I heard you. SH

A bit angsty. I can reveal that I shed my share of tears throughout alongside with John...

@totallysilvergirl @notjustamumj @raina-at @meetinginsamarra @topsyturvy-turtely @peanitbear

[thepaintedlady00]

Nepenthe

Character Intro | Chapter 2

Chapter One: The Hanged Man

TW: blood, gore, some very intrusive and vividly dark thoughts about murder killing and so on, this ones gonna be a dark fic so if that's not something you're into steer clear y'all! But, all in all, first chapters pretty tame for the Dark Urge character. I'm going with a Durge that slightly differs from game Durge as she always has a hesitancy to killing and actively "fights" her dark urges from the start which isn't how I feel the in-game character was potrayed, but it's how I wanna do this series so 🤷‍♀️, I also really wanna let everyone know I'll be taking some creative liberties with the story and I'll be making the villains a bit more "redeemable" (mostly Gortash) they'll all still be the villains and they'll still do the evil shit but with Gortash in particular I wanna add some hints of regret and remorse for his wrong doings so I can give the asshole a happy ending! Because I am a whore for redemption arcs and happy endings! 😅😂

nepenthe • \nuh-PENTH-ee\ • noun. 1: a potion used by the ancients to induce forgetfulness of pain or sorrow; 2: something capable of causing oblivion of grief or suffering.

I had been called many names. Thief. Urchin. Whore. Murderer. Assassin. Monster. Demon. They all held some modicum of truth; after all, how else was one such as myself supposed to live? I bore no family name and held no lands or titles. All I had was a dagger and the blood on my hands. All I had to guide my path… To help me understand who… What I was was but an ember. A word whispered on hushed, fearful tongues.

Bhaalspawn.

It was a myth. Some horror story told by parents to keep their children in line. I knew there could be no truth in it… knew there could be no chance of it being a reality. I'd hunted down every piece of evidence I could over the years, and all of it told the same story. The spawn of Bhaal were long dead - all of them.

I could not be this. And yet the word echoed in me, rattling against my skull almost as loudly as the call for blood. And so, I continued hunting this rumor to the ends of Faerun. Hunting and hoping and killing and running. It was a hideous, pathetic life, but it was all I had. All I'd ever have if I stopped searching now.

Most would find the prospect of being some murderous creature horrifying. Most would have stopped searching when it became possible, but they didn't have this hunger. They didn't feel their skull burning, their whole being screaming for blood. They weren't like me.

From my rooftop perch above the city, I watched the people live their boring little lives. The marketplace was full of bodies, bags of flesh and bones and blood, hurrying and shouting and laughing without a care in the world. Sheep. A pen of them, mindlessly baaing to one another, completely unaware of the wolf lurking above them.

How I longed to leap down from that roof, to slither in what shadows I could find and circle them. My mouth went dry as my heart began to race in my chest. All sound faded, replaced by the symphony of rushing blood and beating hearts. I'd pick the one furthest from the group, the blacksmith. He smelt of salt and metal, a large man with a round belly that was practically begging to be sliced open. The edges of my vision darkened as I stared into the forge. He looked strong, but he'd be slow - much slower than he'd need to be to kill me before I did him. It would be easy.

My body drifted forward, leaning over the ledge of the rooftop. Every inch of me hummed as my fingers wrapped around the hilt of my dagger. So easy… Giggling children broke me from the dark fog. They ran through the streets together, playing whatever games normal little children play, as their families watched with a bright look. I'd studied that look often, how they smiled and their faces creased with joy. It was a look I had never known.

I remembered then the simple house with the green door. I remembered how it looked splattered with their blood - blood that oozed between the floorboards and dripped down the steps. The humming of bloodlust ebbed inside me as I pictured the bodies that littered the cobbled path to the house. Their eyes were dull and lifeless, not a spark of that bright thing… Not a spark of anything. The last one still breathing had crawled back inside, not strong enough to run but still not weak enough to just lay and die.

When I'd followed after her, dagger in hand and blood dripping from me like rain, she'd looked at me with a dark expression. Disappointment mingled with fear and disgust. That was the look I knew, the one she'd always looked at me with. As I got closer, the woman who called herself my mother spat her blood at me and growled out one last word before I watched her bleed out, "Monster." 

That house - my house - had been the first. The first time, I'd let the hunger, the insatiable thoughts of bloodshed, win. The family I massacred that day had been my own, but I never regretted killing them, not for one moment that followed. They'd only been the first of many… Too many.

My rancid blood whispered to me: kill, kill, and kill again. This body of mine craved only death. Not my own, but that of others - everyone. In the beginning, I'd hoped it would fade, yet with each death, each lifeless body I left behind, the hunger only grew. The longing to kill again was never far from my mind, and it terrified me. 

What kind of person… What sort of thing had this urge? A dark, twisted urge so powerful it consumed me, possessed me until I satisfied it with the blood and death it craved. My lungs filled with the cool city air, and the blurred edges of my vision slowly faded, replaced by the pain at the base of my skull growing as the urge festered, unsatisfied.

A heavy sigh echoed beside me as the rooftop shingles shifted under the unpredictable steps. "Restless already, young Master?" 

"I just…" My mouth tasted rancid, the intrusive desire to snap my teeth down on my own tongue making the words difficult to get out.

"Which of the lovely little sheep calls to you this time?" He hummed, turning his head to look out into the crowd with an almost gleeful smile. "The baker?" He giggled, jumping in excitement. "No! The shopkeep! He looks like he'd make a particularly fascinating corpse!" Turning, his beady eyes bore into mine again as he examined my expression. "Not him either? One of the children, perhaps?"

"No!" I bit out, trying not to linger on how that prospect appealed to me. "The blacksmith."

The Butler turned his head eagerly and wiggled his fingers, clacking his claws against the shingles. "Oh, excellent! He'll be no match for you, my dear Master. So big and slow, with a copious amount of blood and viscera to work with. A most excellent choice indeed!"

My hands clenched and unclenched at my sides as I forced my lungs to fill with the fresh air. "I'm not killing him. I'm not killing anyone."

"Not this again," The Butler chided. "Young Master, you must–"

"You do not tell me what I must or mustn't do!" My voice was low but a whisper in the wind, but Sceleritas heard it. He heard it as though I'd screamed it at the top of my lungs. For a fleeting second, it looked as though he'd been hurt by my words and my dismissal of him. With a sigh, I shook my head and knelt beside him. "Sceleritas…"

He made a tsking noise and combed his claws through my hair, delicately brushing it back into place. "I live to serve you, young Master. Whether it leads to glorious blood and viscera or not, I live to serve."

I held his hand for a moment. "Thank you."

"I do wish you'd be true to yourself," he said carefully. "But, if you wish to fight your urge, I'll bite my tongue and let you make your own mistakes."

"Sceleritas," I scolded with a half smile.

He quickly shut his lips tightly and bowed. "Since we're not killing anyone, may I inquire as to what we're doing among the sheep?"

Rolling my eyes at his theatrics, I looked back out to the crowd. "Rumor has it this city has been plagued with worshippers of Bhaal. People -" Sceleritas gave me a confused look. "The sheep," I clarified, earning a toothy grin from him. "Are saying there's an old temple somewhere nearby."

"And you intend to find it?" He asked, pride and mischief filling his tone.

"If anyone will have answers for me, it'll be them." I looked down at the odd little goblin-like creature that had been by my side since I first woke, covered in blood. He had leathery skin and a small hat lined with the bones of a snake I'd killed. He kept his clothes neat, even amongst the blood. Sceleritas was still quite the mystery, and everything about him, right down to how his beady eyes watched me with that sparkle of darkness and his claws clicked together as he idly thrummed his fingers together, making it seem like he knew more than he let on. "Unless you, dear butler, know anything about this temple?"

His hands splayed across his chest as his mouth fell open in surprise. "Why, me? Young Master, I've been ever at your side! I know only what you do."

Narrowing my eyes, I watched his lips turn upward in a grin. "Hmm, we'll see."

"Enough chatter!" He plopped down on the rooftop, kicking his feet over the ledge. "You hurry on with your questioning. I'll be waiting right here when you're done."

"I'll be back before nightfall," I assured him, lifting my hood.

"Of course you will. Unless… perhaps, you find a worthwhile distraction," he said, eyes turning away from mine to stare down at the blacksmith, whose full belly jiggled as he laughed.

That longing hum… That dark urge made my head swim for a moment. Kill him, it demanded. Break his bones! Bathe in his blood! Take his life, for it is yours to take! I shook my head and quickly turned away. "I will be back before nightfall."

"As you say, dear Master."

I dropped into a dark alley, my ill-fitted boots doing little to save my knees from feeling the force of the ground solidly meeting my feet. The alley stank with piss and rotting food, a stench that hung over the poorer districts. It was stripped bare of the fragrant roses and perfumers of the upper city. Stripped of everything, with people still demanding more be taken in the name of their lords and ladies and their fine parties and expensive silks.

Baldur's Gate. A beacon of hope and second chances. So many poured through the city gates with those big eyes, spilling with joy and relief, and it would be those eyes I'd see months later devoid of all that sparkle. Joy is a difficult thing to nurture when you're starving and flea-ridden. Baldur's Gate. The city where any and all are welcome to live and create a new life for themselves. A lie.

As I stepped over the multitude of beggars that no longer whispered pleas my way or anyone else's, I held onto that bitter feeling that had festered since I'd stepped foot here. My hands bore the blood of thousands, innocent and guilty alike, but even I was above the cruelty of this city. I was a killer, to be sure, but this city… The cursed Baldur's Gate was just as much a killer as me. At least I didn't pretend to be something else.

I moved among the crowd, ignoring that tingle that sent shivers up my spine at the sight of so many opportunities to slit someone's throat or tear their stomach open. Keeping my head down and my hood high, I kept my feet steadily moving. "You hear about this, uh… Shipment… That arrived late last night?"

"Which one?" The butcher replied, trying not to seem so interested. I slowed, lifting an eye towards them as they stood beneath the canopy of the butcher's stall.

"The metals," the twitchy man continued. "The ones that went straight to that abandoned church."

In one quick slash, the butcher's blade buried into the wooden board before him, slicing clean through the thick red meat. "What 'bout it?"

The twitchy man scratched his neck. "Rumor has it one of the smugglers is a madman. Er'yone that's seen 'im says he's makin' some kinda beast."

"A beast 'O metal?" The butcher laughed, waving off the man with a slab of meat in his hand. "Yer nutty if you believe that! Now get out me stall! Scarin' away payin' folk with yer twitchin'."

I watched them bicker for a moment longer before the twitching little man scurried away. Gossip and rumors were prevalent on the streets, necessary for anyone with no money to their name. Information was just as valuable as gold, but using such currency often required more than one's word. Proof came in various shapes and sizes. Eyewitness, a crumb of physical evidence, or even mentioning names… People higher up on the social ladder than anyone dwelling here. This system served me well. Though plagued by the constant urge to maim and dismember, my mind held information like a vault.

As I walked the streets, it quickly became apparent the well of gossip revolved around some useless arms dealings. I half listened, filing their names and the vague details away in my head while changing my path. If I wanted more than the current babblings today, I'd need to go to the source.

Baldur's Gate held many rivers that information flowed through. The servants working in the Upper City would flow down from those rich establishments and find whatever little pocket of people they belonged to. Taverns, inns, brothels, all little wells collecting information like buckets. Wells that I found most useful in my hunt for the truth. Past the layers of boring city gossip of who fucked who or who wore what lay the drops I required - the drops that would finally satiate my thirst. It was a simple matter of extracting such.

The Elfsong Tavern was bustling with people and flowing with drinks. It was a gem of the Lower City, though its outward appearance did not reflect anything grand or unique. It had ale and wine and clean rooms, which was enough for most people. The chatter that met my ears was akin to that of insects. I brushed past everyone else and quietly stood beside the bar, waiting for a cleaning to speak with the elf behind it.

The barkeeper and owner of the tavern was a soft-faced half-elf, Alan Alyth. He had dark hair and light in his eyes, still hopeful of his future within this city. Unlike the other patrons, he heard everything and saw all, and he wouldn't waste my time with idle chatter. Alan knew nothing about me, but he knew how much I hated talking.

Our eyes locked as the bodies cleared away from him, and he sighed. "What can I get for you?"

"I heard a rumor about Bhaal worshippers and a ruined temple."

Nodding, the elf wiped up a spill. "Few nights ago, two men came in spouting about it."

I set a single coin down on the bar. "I need the details."

Alan examined me for a second but took the coin and continued to speak, "Dunno much, but they said they believed the entrance to this temple or whatever was somewhere near the docks."

Without a word of thanks, I turned and exited the establishment, my feet moving quickly and my heart pounding steadily in my chest. I longed for this to be the one - for this rumor to lead me somewhere. The docks were even busier than the tavern, with shipments coming in and out, people selling fish right out of the barrels, and captains and crews inspecting their vessels. 

I could catch a ride on one of the ships, I thought. It would be easier to sail away from this horrible city and find a secluded place to live the rest of my days alone. Still, the nagging feeling wouldn't go away no matter how far I sailed. I would still always wonder what I was… If I belonged anywhere.

I remained near the docks, listening, watching, and even searching for hidden doors or loose stones that could have contained a clue, a hint even. There was nothing. No talk of Bhaalists or odd symbols. Nothing but the stench of fish and the annoying voices of the sheep. As the sun set, it became increasingly clear that this had been another dead end.

Waste of time, I scowled as I walked the now clear paths of the dark city. It'd been foolish of me to believe that anyone would have anything of substance. Why would idle gossip lead me to some long-lost hidden temple? It was foolish. Hopeful. 

My body roared with disappointment and anger. The feeling of it made my skin itch and my limbs ache. Curse that damned hope, I thought as I neared the rooftop where the butler would be waiting. I felt more breathless with each step, a sickening feeling washing over me as the edges of my vision swam with shadows. 

Don't fight it, that dark part of me urged. The bellows of nearby fire sparked in my ears, accompanied by the clash of steel. I sucked in a deep breath, halting my steps to try and regain control of my thoughts - of my own hands as they shook. Give in. A tang of ash and a tingling of metal filled my mouth. Give in to yourself. I stumbled, my feet shuffling of their own accord away from the rooftop towards the hazed orange light. 

Kill.

My fingers curled around the hilt of my dagger.

Kill.

My body hummed as the heat of the fire washed over my face.

Kill.

My lips curled up in a happy, satisfied smile.

The stone ceiling of the blacksmith's workshop was coated in billows of dark smoke and embers. They danced along the top of it for a moment, sparkling and crackling before being swept up in the midnight breeze and lifted out the tall open windows. My chest heaved with each breath, the air tasting sweet as I drew it deep into my lungs. I felt lightheaded, exhilarated, and satisfied. My mind felt clear for the first time in weeks, and my skull didn't throb. 

The sensation of thick, sticky liquid rolling down my neck pulled me from the enjoyment and relief. I lifted my hands to touch it but found them to be wet. All at once, my mind became my own again, and the sweetness of the air suddenly became heavy with blood. My fingernails dug into the skin of my neck as quiet whimpers filled my throat.

"Oh, how inspired!" Sceleritas purred with gleeful claps. "Artistry as always, my dear Master!"

My neck strained as I lowered my eyes to the corpse I straddled. The blacksmith lay lifeless beneath me, utterly unrecognizable. His eyes, filled with playful mirth and pride this morning, were now raw pits of exposed blood and muscle. The dark hair that once filled his head was scorched off, still smoking and singed with embers. One of his arms had been torn off, hanging from his anvil where the hand had been bludgeoned until the bones turned to dust. Long, intricate cuts lined his remaining arm and torso, leading to the gaping hole in his stomach. His insides were strewn about the room, hanging like dripping vines. And there, plunged into one of the many stab wounds in his chest, my dagger gleamed in the firelight.

I wanted to throw up, to scream and deny, but all I could do was sit there and stare. A prideful feeling simmered in my gut, finding beauty in the gore surrounding me. It was wrong… Beyond wrong… It was demented, deranged, sickening. Yet the feeling remained just like it always did. Sceleritas dug my dagger out from the blacksmith's chest and smiled as he held it out to me with a bow. Then, he noticed my grip on my neck and quickly tutted.

He placed my dagger back in my sheath and gently pried my hands from my skin. He dabbed the angry welts left by my fingernails with a small cloth. "I'm a monster…" I whispered.

Sceleritas' claws poked my cheek as he forced me to look at him. "You are perfect, Master." He combed his fingers through my hair, tucking it from my face. "Absolutely, positively perfect."

I closed my eyes, fighting back tears as the surrounding houses awoke, likely coming to see what the noises had been. They'd come, they always did, and they'd find me covered in the blood of an innocent man, a friend even. From there, things would be exactly as they always were. I'd be forced to flee, vanish, and always be apart like the rest of the monsters.

"Come, we must go," Sceleritas whispered, moving to check the streets.

With quivering breaths, I blinked away tears. What was the point of fighting if the urge would win out eventually? What was the point of any of this fucking life? Pushing myself to my feet, I wiped my hands on my shirt, as if it'd help clean them of blood, before turning to follow Sceleritas when a blink of movement caught my eye. 

There, standing in the doorway to the home attached to the workshop. His eyes were fixed on the body, the guts that hung from the room, filled with fear and despair at the sight of the larger man's lifelessness. Guilt and disgust warred within me against the satisfied bloodlust and pride. The child's lips quivered as tears began to stream down his cheeks. "Pa…"

Sceleritas' hands gently wound around my arms, tugging me away from the pitiful scene I had orchestrated. "Away, young Master. Come away."

The streets blurred together as I followed Sceleritas' sure-footed steps. I could hear the angry shouts and the calls for justice as the sheep turned to wolves. Tears burned my eyes as I considered stopping and submitting to my fate. I deserved it. I deserved to be torn apart just like I'd torn the blacksmith apart or any of the others before him. I was a monster.

Sceleritas turned then and slid to a halt just beneath an old archway. He scrambled, clawing the debris and dirt away from the small sewer cover. "This way!" He hissed. "We will find safety with the others!"

"With the others?"

"The worshippers of the Lord of Murder, of course!"

 "You knew where it was from the start," I bit out, glaring at the creature. 

"We haven't the time for this conversation, Master. Quickly! Come!" He screeched, desperately waving me towards the sewer entrance.

The ground shook with the rushing footsteps of the mob, a thundering anger filling the air like lightning. Grinding my teeth together, I slid through the small, dark opening and landed in the muck. The butler followed close behind, closing the opening just as quickly as he'd uncovered it. I could see the shadows of the mob pass overhead.

Sloshing through the putrid liquid, Sceleritas kept moving forward. I glared at him, using my anger to ignore how the smell burnt my nose and threatened to choke the air from my lungs. "Where are we going?"

He turned, teeth glistening in the low light. "You wished to find the temple, did you not?"

I followed him a few feet forward, watching as he flicked his clawed fingers, and an array of resting magic forced the stones ahead to part, revealing the ruins behind it. Sceleritas bowed, gesturing towards the opening. "After you, young Master."

The dark path forward appeared to be part of the city once, blocked off and locked away… Left to crumble and decay. The air hung heavy with a feeling of hopelessness, death whispers filling every crack and corridor. I followed what paths I could, weaving past fallen stone and broken statues. What had it looked like in its prime? I wondered as we passed through one intact doorway.

Stones shifted beneath quick feet, alerting me to the presence of others surrounding me. The darkness had eyes that watched me as I continued to the second door. If whatever creatures took issue with my presence, they didn't make it known. I could feel Sceleritas' excitement. "Friends of yours?"

"Friends of yours, Master," he replied. "Soon to be subjects if all goes to plan."

I turned my head to glance at him, so many questions wanting to rise from my throat, but none of them could. How many years have you led me astray? I wondered. How long was spent pulling at my strings for this plan?

A shallow river of sewage split the large room in two, forcing me down the right-hand path that looked to have been patched up with wood scraps. Whoever it was that had taken up residence here had clearly put work into trying to remain inconspicuous. The twists and turns should have confused me, but my feet felt steady… Like I already knew the way.

As I stepped out into a larger clearing, the stench of sewage faded slightly. Water trickled from cracks above, and the ruins grew more solid. "This was the Undercity," I observed, peering up the old stairs that had long been barricaded off. 

Sceleritas stood beside a circular platform, flicking his fingers again and lighting two hanging braziers. "A wretched place." He hummed carefully. "But, like most ruins, it wasn't always such." Waving his hand, I could see a marvel in his eyes. "It was a glorious temple once. A place of the highest caliber! Worshipers would come from near and far to pay homage, and many found a home here."

"What happened?" I asked, a wave of solemn sorrow softening my voice.

Sceleritas shook his head with a bitter sneer on his lips. "Many things. The worshipers of Bhaal have been culled many times throughout the ages."

"Like the Bhaalspawn." I shook my head and looked at the butler with teary eyes. "Is that what I am?"

"You are-"

"Perfect," I interrupted him. "I know, you've said that before. But answer me this, please, Sceleritas?"

With a humble nod, he finally replied. "You are one of the last living Bhaalspawn. The Lord of Murder's flesh and blood."

My teeth ground together. All this time I'd spent searching, looking for answers, and the one person that had been with me from the start had them all along. "Why not tell me this from the start?"

"You were not ready then," he replied with a sigh. "You may still not be ready."

"Well, what happens now?" I asked.

Sceleritas only grinned. "You open the door."

The tall door blended in with the surrounding stone, only really noticeable but the too-perfect cracks where the two sides met, tightly sealed. As I approached, I had an itching feeling that this would not be as simple as my loyal companion made it seem. Pressing on them with my hand, nothing moved, but a voice echoed around us in a soft but powerful whisper.

"Do you have proof of your faith to our lord?"

"Proof?" I questioned with furrowed brows. "How does one present proof of faith?"

Sceleritas cleared his throat and pointed to my still-bloody dagger. "You've all the proof you need, dear Master."

I unsheathed it, grimacing at the sight of the blacksmith's blood. The image of the weeping child filled my mind. I didn't utter a word nor lift the dagger higher than my eyes, but the door saw it as if it had looked through my eyes. "A small thing, but a show of faith nonetheless. Walk in blood."

The door cracked, and the path forward appeared before me, along with a choice. I could turn back and face what I'd done. Or I could continue on this path, wherever it led me, and finally learn the truth. Sceleritas took hold of my hand and squeezed. "The choice is yours, Remora, my dear Master. I can only urge you not to run from what you are." He smiled. "I can only assure you that you are perfect, just as you are."

Bloodshed, death, murder… None of it appealed to me beyond that itch of my darker urges, but I'd killed so many. My hands were forever stained in blood, and nothing, not even facing judgment, would clean them. I'd kill again. I knew it to be true. What choice is there? I asked myself. Nothing will change unless you see this through. "It'd be a waste to turn back now." I smiled down at him and squeezed his hand back. "Besides, what would I do without my most loyal butler?"

We walked hand in hand down the decrepit staircase where the abandoned stone building came into view, nestled overtop a straight drop into nothingness. Sceleritas led me over the bridge of fallen pillars and through a low archway. I held his hand tightly in mine, using his presence as some reassurance to ease the fear and hopelessness rising in my chest. No matter what I found here, Sceleritas would be beside me. He always was.

Bright red lights illuminated as we traversed the winding, bloodstained path. Statues spoke to me, but I couldn't grasp their words beyond the sound of my heart hammering against my ribcage. The bridge stretched across, lit with fire and dark magic. Up a small set of stairs, another door stood closed. Sceleritas released my hand and skipped up the steps, turning to bow before me. "Oh, my Master! Welcome! Welcome to your royal home!"

The doors opened behind him as if on their own accord. Now or never. I ascended the stairs and walked through the doorway with my head held high. From the high ledge, I could see every corner of the room, the lights and the bodies of people gathered, but what I noticed most was the large pool of blood that stood on the opposite side of the room where a skull with bleeding eyes had been carved into the stone. 

Bhaal. My father, if Sceleritas had spoken the truth. With another deep breath, I moved past the robed figures and down towards the center of this congregation. As I passed, the cultists whispered praises, words of great joy at my arrival. Sparing Sceleritas a glance, I quickly asked, "They were expecting us?"

"You, Master," he happily replied. "They've been expecting you for quite some time."

"Praised be the Lord of Murder!" One of them softly exclaimed. 

An odd feeling of warmth suddenly erased the fear from my body. Never before had I been waited on… Met with soft words of joyous welcomes. They wanted me here. They felt some kind of love for me, and I enjoyed it. "They… like me?”

Sceleritas scoffed. "They adore you, Master!"

At the bottom of the steps, all the cultists bowed their heads. "Welcome home, Bhaalspawn. We have waited a very long time for this day."

"What day?"

The woman, who seemed to be the eldest, chuckled. "For you to ascend and take your place as Bhaals Chosen, of course!" She turned, gesturing to the pool of blood. "Go on, submerge yourself, and all shall be revealed."

By my side, Sceleritas urged me to go forward into the blood. My dark, featherless reflection hovered over the thick liquid. There was a moment of hesitation, a moment where I knew deep inside me that this wasn't what I wanted. Sceleritas' voice was soft as he seemed to answer my deepest fears. "Do not deny what you are, Remora. For it is beautiful, beloved, holy. You are perfect, just as you are."

I took the first step, giving into the deepest desire to be loved and accepted. Maybe this was the only way for something like me to achieve such. Maybe this was always what I was meant for. As the blood enveloped me, I felt warm… Safe… Powerful. Flashes of bodies torn apart and skulls growing from trees filled my vision. "Child of blood, go forth with divine purpose."

When I emerged again, the first thing I heard was Sceleritas clapping. Then, all that stood before me bowed. "All hail Bhaal's Chosen!"

This was my future - my life. All the years I'd spent trying to be anything other were wasted. Thief. Urchin. Whore. Murderer. Assassin. Monster. Demon. All those years of fighting, scraping, bowing, resisting… It had all been futile. This was what I was, who I was. Bhaalspawn.

Bhaal's Chosen.

[thehotgrandparent]

Writing prompt for my TNMN Doppelganger Doorman undercut 💪 + an authors note at the end :3

It was weird.

The Doorman wasn’t used to this feeling.

What was the feeling called?

It’s didn’t teach him feelings. Just the needed things.

Like killing. Though that was in it’s blood, in it. Given to be used.

And used.

And used.

Why did the man in front of them, Steven, treat it like a person?

It was weird.

It could see his hesitation, his fear.

So why didn’t he run away and scream like the rest of them? Even through the obvious fear and hesitation.

Steven was a smart guy. He should know better. Does he have no survival instincts? Maybe. The Doorman wasn’t sure why, but it just had to protect, for some reason.

It couldn’t tell if it was a good thing or not.

It couldn’t tell because it didn’t know.

How could it not know if it was not taught?

Did its creator decide it wasn’t important? It felt like it was important.

Why did Steven call it ‘Berry’?

Oh right. It gave itself a name. Berry. It didn’t know exactly why it named itself Berry.

Whatever. It supposed that its creator would want it to protect and fortify humans. It wasn’t sure.

It had differing instructions. Do what its creator was told, but also fortify the place. Keep it safe from… itself, in a way.

Siblings, in a way.

Created for the same purpose. Not exactly the same as the others.

It was the first. It’s instincts so, so different from the rest. Not as strong. By accident, of course.

After all, it was a mistake that its containment cell was open.

It wasn’t ready. Though what it made up in its lack of instincts, mostly with the killing unless hungry, which was a lot, though was it still killer. It was willing to admit that. The Doorman, as its creator now called it, or Berry by the residents, it made up for in its sense or smell, it’s claws.

Though it’s still deadly. Just because some instants were lacking didn’t mean I was fully gone.

After all, the word ‘lacking’ meant not available or in short supply.

In its case, it was in a short supply of its instants. At least, compared to the others.

The Doorman was still a dangerous being. Steven knew that.

It could still see the hesitation sometimes.

But for some reason, Steven accepted that it was just how the Doorman was.

Even after its upgrade with more abilities, it’s instincts and senses now better than the average doppelganger, or whatever the humans called it.

But it supposed that it would be ok.

Even if its creator seemed satisfied with what it has done so far, it had Steven and the residents. Which it liked for some odd reason.

When before, it was just an urge.

Now it’s so obvious that they were willing to make it obvious.

————

A/N:

TNMN stuff! Amazing. I’m proud of myself. Did this at 1 in the morning, but I think I did good. This isn’t necessarily canon, but I do like to think that Berry’s instants weren’t as strong :3

While I’m typing this, I would like to mention that I’m not that interested in TNMN as I was before. I, of course, will try and continue to make fics, though with a lack of motivation, waiting for my beta reader, etc. it will likely be slow! But I won’t be fully abandoning the series. It’s fun to write about it.

Literally the readers (aka a lot of you guys here) are my motivation! I don’t want to leave anyone on a cliffhanger, nor do I want to have an unfinished fic, but do know that I am thankful for everyone who has read my fic!

TLDR: I’m not giving up on this series, though I’m not interested in TNMN than before. Updates will be slow, but I’m thankful to everyone who has stuck by and decided to give it a read!