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bbokarimenu · 1 month ago

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Snowed in With you

pairing: bangchan! x fem reader!

genre: fluff

warnings: none

an: Merry Christmas lovely’s 💚❤️

Masterlist

The snow had been falling for hours, blanketing the streets of Seoul in a shimmering white coat. The flakes drifted lazily outside the window, illuminated by the warm glow of Christmas lights. I pulled the curtains closed with a small sigh, hugging my arms as the cozy warmth of our apartment wrapped around me.

It was Christmas Eve, and for once, Bang Chan had the entire day off. It felt like a miracle. Between practices, performances, and managing his responsibilities as a leader, he rarely had time to just… breathe. But tonight, the world had gifted us a quiet moment—just us, no schedules, no distractions.

“Y/N, what’s taking so long? I need your help!” Chan’s voice called from the living room, laced with mock urgency.

Rolling my eyes fondly, I stepped into the room, where he was sitting cross-legged on the floor amidst a chaotic pile of tinsel, ornaments, and what looked like a very tangled string of Christmas lights. He had a Santa hat perched jauntily on his head, and his sweater—a gaudy masterpiece featuring a reindeer with flashing LED antlers—lit up every few seconds.

“You started without me?” I teased, picking up the nearest ornament.

Chan gave me an exaggerated pout. “I was just trying to untangle the lights, but it’s like they have a personal vendetta against me. Help me out before I lose my mind.”

I chuckled, kneeling beside him. “Alright, let’s do this. But if you break any ornaments, you’re on cleanup duty.”

“Deal.” He grinned, scooting closer as we began the painstaking process of untangling the lights.

An hour later, the tree was finally decorated, its branches adorned with twinkling lights, mismatched ornaments, and a slightly crooked star at the top. We stepped back to admire our handiwork, Chan’s arm casually slung around my shoulders.

“Not bad,” he said, nodding approvingly. “I mean, it’s definitely got character.”

“Character?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow. “That’s just your way of saying it’s a mess.”

“It’s a beautiful mess,” he corrected, leaning down to press a kiss to my temple. “Just like us.”

I swatted his chest, laughing. “You’re so cheesy.”

“And you love it,” he shot back, his dimpled smile making my heart flutter.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of holiday clichés. We baked cookies—though Chan ate most of the dough before it even made it to the oven—and danced around the kitchen to Christmas music, our laughter filling the small apartment. At one point, he pulled me into his arms for a slow dance, the lights from the tree casting a soft glow over us.

“You know,” he murmured, resting his forehead against mine, “I don’t get to do this often enough.”

“Dance in the kitchen?” I teased, trying to lighten the sudden seriousness in his tone.

Chan chuckled, but his eyes stayed soft. “No. Spend time with you. Just… be here. Like this.”

I felt my chest tighten at his words. I knew how much pressure he was under, how hard he worked to juggle everything. Moments like this—just the two of us, no interruptions—were rare. Precious.

“Well,” I said, my voice quiet, “I’m glad we have tonight.”

“Me too.” His arms tightened around me, and for a moment, the world outside didn’t exist.

Later that night, we curled up on the couch with a blanket and a plate of slightly burnt cookies. A Christmas movie played in the background, but neither of us was really paying attention. I was too busy watching the way Chan’s face lit up every time he laughed, the way his dimples deepened when he smiled.

“You’re staring,” he said, catching me in the act.

I shrugged, unbothered. “Maybe I just like looking at you.”

His ears turned pink, and he ducked his head, trying to hide his grin. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re cute when you’re flustered,” I countered, poking his cheek.

“Stop.” He laughed, grabbing my hand to pull me closer. “Come here.”

I let him tug me into his lap, his arms wrapping around me as he rested his chin on my shoulder. We sat like that for a while, watching the snow fall outside the window, the room filled with the soft hum of Christmas music and the warmth of being together.

As midnight approached, Chan reached behind the couch and pulled out a small, wrapped box.

“What’s this?” I asked, taking it from him.

“Open it and find out.” His smile was almost shy, a rare sight that made my heart skip a beat.

Carefully, I peeled back the wrapping paper to reveal a delicate silver bracelet. Dangling from it was a tiny charm shaped like a star, its edges sparkling in the light.

“Chan,” I whispered, my throat tightening. “It’s beautiful.”

“You’re always saying how much you love looking at the stars,” he said, his voice soft. “I thought maybe this could be a little reminder. You know, for when I’m not around.”

I blinked back tears, slipping the bracelet onto my wrist. “I love it. Thank you.”

He pressed a kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Merry Christmas,” I whispered back, leaning into him.

The snowstorm raged outside, but inside, everything was warm and safe. In that moment, wrapped in Chan’s arms with the glow of the Christmas tree around us, I couldn’t imagine a more perfect holiday.

#kpop imagines #stray kids #lee felix #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #bangchan imagines #lee felix fluff

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callme-darling · 1 year ago

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work tensions

or; you’re a prosecutor working a trial vincent is defending and your colleagues get the feeling there’s some underlying tension between the way you’re at each others throats

word count: 3.3k

warnings: smut, like genuinely filthy shit, fem reader, hate sex (kinda), sex in the workplace (so like semi-public ig), vincent and y/n are rivals/enemies, this actually somewhat has a plot lmao, hellllaaaaa tension, so much teasing, degradation (he say slut once), cocky vincent, begging if you squint, throat holding/light choking, fingering, no protection, p-in-v, not proofread, friendly ending (bc i’m a big softie)

a/n: HAPPY VALENTINES DAY LADIES!!!! hope you enjoy🤍🤍

you were amongst the youngest of the attorneys in the city courthouse. you were fortunate in the opportunities afforded to you, but you also worked your ass off to get where you were today. which is why you, for the life of yourself, can’t understand what the hell you did to earn the contempt of vincent renzi.

from the first time you both stood in the same courtroom, it seemed like his eyes were always set in a hard glare when they saw you. so whose to blame you for reciprocating the hostility? your colleagues usually give you well-intentioned advice to at least talk to him, something you haven’t even done outside of casework. who knows, they’d shrug, maybe it’s just ill-concealed intrigue.

you were young, but you weren’t naive enough to think the esteemed defense attorney didn’t absolutely hate your guts.

some of your colleagues, however, seemed hellbent on taking matters into their own hands after a minor scuffle that left the judge’s office suspended in a tense battle of wills. the case wasn’t even that serious—just a petty case of ‘he-said, she-said’ neighbor dispute. but the simple judge’s meeting quickly fell apart to a dispute that devolved to obviously personal jabs.

when the judge finally had enough, she dismissed both you and vincent from the room with the stern instruction to “talk out whatever issues you two obviously have, and get your shit together”.

you’re on vincent’s heels as he speeds out of the room. as soon as you hear the door click shut behind you, you’re glancing up and down the hallway. vincent runs a hand through his hair, annoyance etched across his features.

“what the hell is your problem?”

you gawk at him, “MY problem?!” you chuckle at his audacity. “you’re the one who started all this-“ you wave your hands in the space between you two like some enigmatic boundary separated you.

his tongue prodded the inside of his cheek, and a roll of his eyes had you seeing red. before you had a chance to properly rip his throat out, an older man poked his head out from another room, face stern as he recommended you find somewhere else to continue whatever dispute you deigned important enough to have a tempermental yelling match in the middle of the office.

with a noise that could only be chalked up at pure irritation, vincent began strutting down the hall. you were quick behind him, wordlessly keeping in step with his long strides. you weren’t done with your conversation, and you’ll be damned if you let him walk away now.

you were in an unfamiliar, and rather desolate, wing of the building when he spun around to face you, his face inches from yours as he ducked down slightly to glare into your eyes. “quit following me like a damn dog!”

your eyes widened before a hard scowl settled on your face. “not until you tell me what your problem with me is.” you fume, “ever since i got here, you have had some personal vendetta against me. you’re going to tell me why.”

his jaw clenched as his eyes scanned your face. “your feelings are hurt because i don’t like you, is that what this is?”

you roll your eyes. “that’s bullshit and we both know it. the truth. now.”

“i need a reason to dislike you?”

“you can make one up for all i care, but i’m tired of your attitude fucking with my job.”

he chuckles dryly, “oh, i see. that’s what this is about.”

your brows scrunch together. at your look of confusion, he takes a step closer, breath fanning your face as he whispers through tight lips, “it’s my attitude fucking with your job, hm? that’s what drives me so fucking crazy- you’re so blind.” he rubs a hand over his mouth, taking a breath before his eyes are hard set on you again. “don’t think i don’t see it—the way you’ve charmed our colleagues, how you bat your pretty little eyes at the judges to get your way-“

you cut him off, disbelief dripping from your words. “excuse me?”

he scoffs, “oh don’t be coy.”

“you know what, vincent,” you clench your fists, nails biting into your palms as they shook, “you can fuck right off.”

you go to turn and walk away, but a thought of venom penetrates your mind and you whip right back around, nearly nose-to-nose as you whisper low, “just say you’re threatened by me next time.”

you watch as something akin to rage flash across vincent’s face. he doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but his eyes bore into yours with a silent threat that chills your spine. his tone is low, dangerous. the rasp makes the hair along your arms stand on end. “i suggest you choose your next words wisely, y/n.”

maybe it was your stubbornness, or a fleeting air of confidence, but you hold his stare, your own voice quieter but just as menacing. “vincent renzi is threatened by the fresh-faced competition and can’t stand the thought that i may be the better attorney.” were you being childish in taunting him? yes, probably. but the months of tension were reaching critical mass, and whatever thoughts crossed your mind were being said.

what had just slipped through your lips, though, was definitely the wrong thing to have said.

a hand harshly grips your bicep as he drags you to the nearest room. he flicks on one set of lights and slams the door shut. he’s fuming, you note. however, you don’t fully register just how angry he is.

he’s silent for a pregnant moment, the air suffocating as he watches you with an analytical glare, his body seemed almost animalistic in how he stalked towards with with silent strides. you feel a new form of anxiety quicken your breathing.

he’s close now, so close you can smell his day-old cologne like it were freshly applied. his voice is quiet, but it makes you jolt under his intense gaze. “you want to know why i hate you so much?”

you feel as though you’re trapped in a stupor, your mind dizzy with this newfound suspense. you give him a small nod, not trusting your voice to remain firm in this intensity.

you swear you feel his lips just barely ghost over your cheek as he speaks, nearly growling in your ear. “i hate you because you’re so infuriating.” he pauses. “the way you walk around the courtroom like it’s yours to own, how you always make the most nit-picky points. and what pisses me off the most, is how i’m so attracted to you because of it.”

you were holding your breath. you felt your mind reeling as silence settled over the room. only the sound of your own breathing and the blood rushing through your veins reached your ears as you held vincent’s gaze.

his ferocity seemed to have diminished a fraction, but his jaw remained clenched. words escaped your brain as you tried to wrack together some coherent response, anything to quell the heat burning you from the inside out.

when no such words came, you decided ‘to hell with it’.

your eyes flicked to vincent’s lips, rubbed a pretty red from his hands and teeth. then you looked back into his eyes. an exchange that required no voice.

‘do it then,’ you silently dared. do it.

and so, he did.

his palm was warm on your cheek, fingers wrapping around the back of your head as he crashed his lips to yours. the force of the kiss had you stumbling back before vincent’s other hand caught your hip.

impatient. that was the best word to describe the way vincent kissed you. you tasted his lips on yours, body humming as you become acutely aware just who you’re kissing. and the mere thought has your thighs clenching together.

there was no room to speak with the way his mouth trailed down your chin, dipping into the curve of your neck. a shudder rushes through your muscles when you feel his teeth nip at the skin of your throat, eliciting a soft gasp to fall from your kiss-swollen lips.

you can feel the faint press of a grin to your collarbone. he coaxed your legs to walk back a few steps, securing your body between the table and his own.

his breath was warm as he spoke against your shoulder, “tell me to stop.” the featherlight touch of his fingers sent jolts of electricity through you as they skimmed down your arms and over your waist. “tell me you don’t want this, and i’ll let you walk out that door.”

your lungs burned when you finally released your breath. you could feel the heat pooling in your stomach, and the deep octave of his voice was doing little to soothe it. you were surprised by your own voice’s clarity, “shut up and kiss me again.”

you felt his body melt deeper into yours as your palms pulled him in by the side of his neck. you allowed yourself to be more eager, greedier, as your tongue teased his bottom lip.

he pressed his hips firmly against yours, his rasping moan nearly making you whimper in response. he was breathless when he pulled away. the pad of his thumb stroked your bottom lip, his own shining with a mixture of yours and his spit.

“i’m going to ruin you..” he murmured, leaning down again, his lips brushing over yours as his thumb holds your chin in place.

you prop your hand on the table behind you, not trusting your legs to hold you for much longer. your voice is meeker this time as you whisper against his touch, “you can try.”

vincent kisses you with an assured hunger. his touch dominating as he grips your hips, the fabric of your skirt gradually bunching in his hold. you can sense the apprehension in him, his internal battle of morals. your hand cradles the back of his head, nails stroking his scalp as you use your other to guide his hand under your blouse. blue eyes meet yours as you chide, “you don’t have to play nice with me, vincent.” the lull of his name from your lips paired with the way you brought his palm to grope at your chest, he needed no more convincing.

“such a little fuckin’ minx.” he muttered under his breath. your skirt was bunched up to your waist, your panties shoved down your legs. he had your back flat on the tabletop, hips slotted between your thighs as his eyes raked over you.

you could feel yourself slowly dripping onto the table below you, cheeks flushed with both lust and embarrassment.

vincent smirked. seeing you laid out like this, on display for him has his dick twitching in his pants. he appraised your needy pussy, a tentative two fingers teasing your folds as your thighs trembled. he watched how you grew shy, hand hovering over your mouth as you whine at the fleeting touch.

finally, you feel the pair of fingers slide into your soaking cunt. a whimper escapes you when he’s knuckle-deep in your clenching heat, the palm of his hand grazing your clit.

his gaze is attentive as he makes note of every little reaction you have to each stroke of his fingers. he bites his lip as he witnesses your eyes softly roll back when his fingers find the spot that has your chest heaving and hips shuddering. he leans down so his ear is next to your mouth, intent on hearing every single needy little whine he lures from you. he presses his lips to yours when he feels you creep up to your climax. “are you going to come on my hand?” his eyes find yours, half-lidded and glassy, and the sight alone makes him groan as his cock aches.

“is this all it takes to have you all pretty and compliant?” the teasing lilt in his voice only makes your cunt flutter around his fingers. “not so smart now when i have two fingers in this little pussy of yours, hm?”

you swear you felt like you were going to pass out. the combination of his fingers and palm against your pussy, his degrading mocking, and taunting eyes has you keening under him in a newfound desperation as you teetered precariously on the edge. so, so close to being rendered incoherent with only two fingers.

his touch leaves you.

you whine loudly, pouting as you attempt to catch your stolen breath. you move to sit up, but a large firm hand across your collarbones keeps you sprawled on the table. you squirm under his hold. “vincent.. why?” under any other circumstances, the needy pitch of your voice would’ve made you cringe, but your depravity gave you little to care about aside from satisfying your incessant lust right now.

his voice was sickeningly taunting as he cooed down at you, his other hand brushing the hair from your face. “come on, you have to work for it.”

you could feel that familiar animosity sit on your tongue, but you hold it. though, based on the sly smile looking down at you, you got the sense he could feel it too.

“how ‘bout this..” he sighs instead. his eyes trailed over your face, blue irises harboring a certain warmth that had anticipation swirling in your stomach. “if you say a simple, little sentence, i’ll give you what you want.”

you chew on your bottom lip, mulling over what was no doubt a trap. “what would you have me say?”

the way his smile widened had your pussy clenching around nothing, the cold air making you shiver. “i want you to say: ‘only vincent renzi can make my pussy this wet’.

“oh fuck y-“

his hand catches your jaw before you could finish your crude remark. his fingers lightly dig into your cheeks as he comes nose-to-nose with you. his voice is dangerously low but a softness keeps to the edges. “would you rather me leave you here, like this? your pussy is practically weeping.” as if to reinforce his words, a hand lightly slaps against your folds. the wet sound had your face turning a new shade of red, lips pouting as his other hand still holds your face close to his.

you don’t say anything, internally battling with yourself. the tip of vincent’s tongue pokes out to wet his lips, your eyes following the minute movement with bated breaths. then his soft voice buzzes in your ear. “c’mon.. just say how i make you drip like a needy slut. let me hear that pretty voice of yours, the one you like to use so much.”

you felt a whine croak in your throat as the hand between your thighs gave your clit another tap. “i’ll give you three seconds.” his low tone warned.

“three..”

you felt your breath stutter, eyes searching his. there’s no way he’s serious.

“two..”

he wouldn’t actually leave you like this, would he?”

“on-“

“okay.” you cut him off, words rushed as you grip the wrist of the hand holding your face.

he peers down at you expectantly. the corner of his lips upturned slightly, and you hated how attractive it was.

“only vincent can make me this wet..” he’s never seen you so timid and meek than in that moment, something that only added to the building heat of the room.

“now, was that so hard?” he quirked a brow, fingers playing with your aching cunt as he notes the way your slick soaks his palm. “you’ve done your part, so be a good girl and take what i give you, yeah?”

you nod dumbly as his hand drops from your jaw. your body felt like it was buzzing, heart hammering in your chest as you watched him fumble with his pants, pulling his leather belt off with one hand.

he plants a searing kiss to your lips, a trained dominance permeating his movements. you moan against him, hips twitching as his pants brush against your bare core. a hand slides between your bodies to free his leaking cock from his slacks. you swallow any sounds he makes as his hand strokes his dick a few times. “you got to stay quiet. think you can handle that?”

you ignore the obvious taunt, hand on the back of his neck as you pull at the ends of his hair. “just fuck me already, vince.”

he chuckles dryly, but you sense the anticipation crawling under his skin. next time, you’ll be the one making him beg.

a drawn out gasp fills the room as you feel him slowly begin to sink into your tight heat. fuck, you felt dizzy as your cunt pulsed, sucking him in deeper.

you both moan in with quiet sighs when he bottoms out. he starts slow, but eventually finds a rhythm that has you whining with each thrust, your whimpers gradually growing in volume as his thumb toyed with your sore clit. he curses under his breath, a large hand gripping the sides of your throat.

his voice was labored but firm, “you want the entire firm to hear how you sound with my dick in you? be quiet.” he warns again.

you try, you really do. your hand is over your mouth, eyes watering with unshed tears as his pace quickens. your other hand flies to his shoulder, nails biting into his shirt in a silent plea. his voice floats back to you. “but staying quiet was never your strong suit, was it?”

“fuck, oh shit-“ you whimper, eyes screwing shut when you feel the start of your orgasm wrack through you. “vincent, please, oh-“ your eyes fluttered as his grip around your neck tightened a fraction.

“i told you, you would eventually start begging.”

you can barely hear him over the erratic pulsing in your ears. your entire body tenses, cunt clenching around his dick like a vice. he hisses above you, teeth gritted as he watches you come undone.

he pulls out of you, stroking himself a few more times before he’s coming on your pussy and thighs.

you lay on the table, breathing hard as you come down from the orgasmic high. you stare at vincent who’s already watching you, breaths sharing a calming rhythm. when you feel more like yourself, you start to sit up. he hands you a box of tissues, eyes daring to glance at the mess he made on you.

you attempt to straighten your blouse, the collar of which looks as though it had gone through a windstorm. your eyes scan the floor for your panties.

vincent’s palm offers the small ball of satin into your fingers. your gaze catches his as he suppresses a grin. “wouldn’t want to be caught without these, would you?”

you glare at him, though it’s void of the usual hostility. you finish straightening your clothes, blouse retucked into your smoothed-out skirt. you turn back to vincent who’s been put back together for a couple minutes already, leaning against the wall idly.

your mind screamed at you to fill the silence, to say something to settle the oncoming disquiet.

to your surprise, it was vincent who broke the silence first. “who would have thought that this is something you’re into?” his eyes appraised you again. there was no adversity in his jest, only a gentle prodding.

“you can’t say that like you didn’t just fuck me the same.”

he nods, toothy grin starting to crack through his lips. you can see the way his fingers twitch, itching to hold a cigarette between them.

“want a smoke?” you offer, testing the waters.

his eyes catch yours, and he holds your gaze for a moment. then the first genuine, true smile you’ve seen from him is directed at you.

“i’d like that, yes.”

#♱₊˚✧ filth .#swann arlaud #anatomy of a fall #anatomie d'une chute #vincent renzi #anatomy of a fall vincent

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beepboopappreciation · 11 months ago

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WOO HOO!!!!

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☆ Also as a quick note, my shipping rates have been changed to a flat rate. This applies to both USA and international orders. link: https://nuclearequinox.bigcartel.com/

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adams-angels · 1 year ago

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hello! May I have a part 2 of Adam's revenge? It's really made my day btw —

Oooh a two parter? You bet! As I was writing I figured this would be the end but .... I think a part 3 might be called for :3c

💖 Please send me requests! Send me your own headcanons! I will draw! I'm obsessed rn!💖

Revenge 😈 pt 2

You can't believe it. No way. No fucking way. You pace your bedroom floor, hand pulling at your hair. You cheated. On your husband. He'll kill you. Right? I mean, he's the king of HELL and you betrayed him.

"and with YOU! Of all the fucking people in the heavens and hells I fucked you!" You turn to the bed where Adam lies, feeling proud of himself after multiple rounds. "What? You liked it." He smirked as he watched your eventual break down. You pick up his robe from the floor and shoved it into his arms. "You need to leave!" Quickly pulling him to his feet and pushing him towards the balcony. "Woah, woah! What's the rush, babe!" He sounded so smug right now. You hated it. You push in on to the balcony, he turns to face you just as you about to shut the doors. "What? No kiss goodbye?" He teased. "AUGH!" You slam the doors shut and close the curtains.

You can hear him laugh before hearing him shuffle on his robe and flying away. You rush to the bed pulling the sheets off that was covered with your combined fluids. But it wasn't enough, you could still smell him. You took the pillows and the duvet. Still the bed itself was tainted by his smell. "No, no, no..."

You found yourself standing outside, your whole bed burning in hellfire as you smoked a cigarette. Blowing out smoke and flicking the cigarette into the fire you sigh. "Never again."

You returned to the bedroom, opening the balcony doors and all the windows in the room to get "fresh" air. In your vendetta against the bed you didn't notice that Adams mask was still there on the floor. You didn't give it him and he didn't pick it up. Your heart fluttered as you picked it up. Your hand cupping the cheek of the mask wishing it would be his face. You scowled at yourself before dropping the mask in disgust. No way did you just think that. You picked the mask back up like it was a dirty sock and tried thinking what do with it. Hellfire wouldn't burn it. You don't think you can destroy it... You walk towards your wardrobe and hide it on the top shelf. Your short king would never. You hoped...

～⁠♡✧⁠｡ I really hope you enjoyed! I'm not a writer by any means but I appreciate any support I receive so thank you for reading! ｡✧⁠♡～⁠

Extermination day came to an end, you'd have a week before Lucifer would come back. You spent that time cleaning the bedroom, avoiding the wardrobe all together. Ordered a new bed. Made your bedroom all pretty for you husbands return. The love of your after life. Your man. Adam. I MEAN LUCIFER!!!!! You start cleaning the bedroom again.

"so... Extermination day. I hope you didn't get into any bother, my dear." He took your hand, pulling your closer. You were surprised by the affection you were recieving. "Well.. it's the same as every year." You chuckled awkwardly. Why was he asking? Does he know? "I'm sorry I have to leave for so long. But don't worry. That changes today!" He dip kisses you. You pull away. "O-oh? Thats... That's fantastic! Yay!" It didn't feel fantastic. You should be happy your husband will be with you, the deadliest day of the year. But no.. you feel.. sad... That means you won't be able to see Adam.

Half way through scrubbing the floor you see feet. Looking up you see Lucifer smiling with his hands behind his back. "Hello, my darling." He smiled softly at you. How could you do this to him. "Lucifer! You're home early." His gives you his hand to help you up from the floor. "Yes, well.." you hesitate before taking his hand. "I have a suprise for you." You watch as you brings his hand from behind his back to reveal a little duck, that looks like you. Your heart shattered. Not that you let it show. "Oh, Lucifer, thank you. That's very sweet." You cradle the duck in your hands before giving you husband a peck on the lips.

"Uh, Lucifer... Do you think you could start calling me.... Babe?" You winced at your own question. "Uh, of course. Anything for you.. babe."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel adam x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel adam smut #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer

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loveandleases · 5 months ago

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ANOTHER ASK - KEKEKEKE

What class and/or occupation would each of the ROs be in a fantasy world? And let's say MC is just a random commoner who gets tangled into a bunch of trouble and just wanted to live a peaceful life after being jilted by their fiancee and ostracized from their family? (Except their Aunt, who is the whole reason why MC could start a new life with her in a nice establishment, like an inn or shop!)

Curious how Cam would interact with MC upon his first meeting - but feel free to add the childhood friend factor 👀

😂 Yeeees, this is probably my fav question. You always send good ones! (I just have such an urge to do something fantasy) ❤️ Cam - Rogue! All the way, he's already got practice. Eventually join a thieves' guild and become one of the higher ups before ya know it.

💙 G - Cleric. Probably one of the most prickly cleric's. Would get so pissed when people get hurt, say they deserve it. Then heal them and just mumble the entire time.

💚 Kara - Spellcaster, mainly because she thought the whip was cool. Then she actually began to excel at it.

💛 M - They would be an Arcane Storyteller. With a focus on romance/horror spells.

💜 Isaac - An alchemist! They would be pretty successful in a fantasy setting. Isaac would be a relatively good one, probably doing better than some of the other RO's honestly.

🖤 Ardent - Berserker, a blood thirsty one. Likely has a vendetta against the thieves' guild.

So if Cam and MC were childhood friends, they eventually lost contact growing up. Especially given Cam's initiation into the thieves' guild. Gonna put it below break because long!

Shit, shit shit shit.

“Get him you dolts. How many fucking times has he made you look so pathetic!?” The man yells, as they try to keep up with the redheaded rogue.

Cam tore down the street, feet smacking against the cobblestone as he made his way around the throngs of people in the market. The guards were hot on his heels, as usual when they get a sight of that red hair. Who can blame them? He placed in the top three for best looking among the thieves’ guild. That thought alone causes his cheeks to flush, as he scratches his cheek. Now is definitely not the time to think about that.

They were getting closer, and he needed a quick way out. His eyes searched the crowd, looking for anything to help with his escape. He didn’t plan on getting caught, especially not today. The item in his pouch could easily fetch 300 gol to the right seller. Enough to cover the medicine for the kids at the guild, enough to put some food on the tables for over a week. With just enough leftover to pay off his tab at the inn.

A few feet away he spotted a fabric merchant’s stall, perched atop the tabletop, swaying precariously with the wind rests several stacks of colorful cloth. A myriad of colors and textures. Some he would never even dream of coming into contact with, well until now. With one calculated move, he slammed himself into the stall, the fabric falling into the dusty street. All except the pale green fabric he quickly grabs and uses to cover his hair. The merchant’s cries of protest cause the slightest pang of guilt. But he doesn’t look back- he knew the guards would be delayed momentarily.

He quickly ducks into a nearby alley, narrow and slightly overcast from the buildings on each side, winding his way through the labyrinth of back streets. The sounds of the bustling market, cries of the fabric merchant and guards fade behind him. The alley growing tighter in spots, the tall buildings cast deep shadows which Cam could easily use to his advantage if needed. As he rounded a corner, his escape was suddenly blocked.

His body collided with that of another, jarring them both. Cam staggers back, his eyes locking on the person before him. A brief flicker of recognition passes over their face, but not enough to make him stop what he was planning. Before either could speak, Cam grabs them. The guards’ steps closer now thanks to this little mess up.

In one quick motion, he grabs them pulling them tightly as his hand yanks out a dagger from his belt. The cool metal pressed close against the neck of the person before him. “Sorry,” he whispered, “I need to throw them off, and you just happened to be in my way.” Their eyes widen, not in fear, which Cam had expected. As the guards rounded the corner, their metal armor clinking loudly, MC with surprising speed, twisted around and slammed their forehead into Cam’s nose, with such force that sent stars dancing in his vision. “Fuck! What the hell, are you stupid. Ow-shit that smarts!”

Both stumbles back, blood pouring from their noses. Cam’s grip on his knife loosened, falling, and his would-be victim shoves him away, glaring at him with such anger it causes Cam’s skin to heat.

Shit, why do they look pretty all bloodied up?

Before he could stop himself, his hand slid up with intent to wipe the blood from the other person. Then it dawned on him…this has happened before. Well not nearly slicing the neck of someone while escaping from guards. But this person had headbutted him before, causing their noses to bleed. So very long ago.

“Red.” He whispers, watching as his former childhood friend looks him over.

“Cam!?”

The guards stand at the mouth of the street, taken aback by the sight before them. The rogue and supposed victim both stand bloodied. The confusion on the guard’s face was all the time he needed. Cam shoots a grin, vicious as blood seeped into his mouth, that which he spits on the cobblestone. “Tsk, listen I would like to buy you a drink before I take you back to my place, for old times sake. But we don’t have time. So, let’s catch up, ey?” He quickly pockets his knife, grabbing MC’s hand and begins sprinting down the alley.

#loveandleases #love and leases #cam #ardent #g #kara #isaac #m #scenario #fantasy setting #au

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eyesxxyou · 9 months ago

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pirate Hobie x mute siren reader hcs:

Hobie who lost his mother to a siren. She was missing for days and then one day, she washed up on shore, eardrums burst and half eaten. He's held a vendetta ever since and swore to avenge his mother.

Siren reader who isn't like other sirens. The others are seductive, they lure sailors to their deaths with sultry gazes and beautiful voices. Siren reader is wide eyed, innocent-looking, and mute. They cannot sing and any time they try, nothing comes out.

Hobie who's ready to kill reader when he comes across them but gosh, they're so pretty and they look so harmless and they're crying. Fuck- he spares their life.

reader who's dressed in pearls and shells hanging off their body. Their eyes are large and black, almost empty, lashes long, razor sharp teeth hidden behind plump lips, patches of shimmering scales that hypnotize. They are beautiful but dangerous, Hobie remains cautious.

Hobie who doesn't trust reader as far as he can throw them but they follow him everywhere he goes, forever grateful that he spared them. It's hard to ignore them. They board his ship whenever they can despite his protest and silently follow him around. With time, he becomes more tender with them and give them a nickname, "pearl"

Hobie who comes up with signs so that he can communicate with reader, simple stuff that they can understand. Soon, reader is signing just enough, simple things. Until one day they sign "you pretty"

Reader who watches when Hobie bathes in the sea, their eyes meticulously yet innocently gazing upon his naked body. Their face is hot, body squirmy. They want to touch, but Hobie never too it lightly. He catches them staring, eyes peaking up over the water, wide and guiltless, he smirks and asks if they like what they see. Reader ducks away.

UGHHH I NEED TO WRITE THIS

#siren reader #siren au #pirate au #pirate hobie #pirate hobie x siren reader

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kiwanopie · 2 years ago

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“What does it look like to see crime lord!kiyoomi blow up at someone threatening the reader?”

cw: mention of bathroom (reader has to number one lmao), character death, death by suffocation

wc: 2.4k

His head immediately turns when he hears your voice calling out for him.

You’re breathtaking in your ball attire. Glowing under the balmy haze of ballroom crystal lights as you duck into his gaze. You’re radiant, and It’s a chore to look anywhere else as Kiyoomi scans the large hall, leaning in to get a better listen at your voice. “What’s up, angel?”

“Can you come with me to the bathroom?” You whisper. “I’m too nervous to go by myself.”

Kiyoomi pauses to delegate a pensive moment. He was supposed to mingle with OneSource’s people to check in on his annual contract bonding. ‘Course there’s no reason to think that anything has changed - they’d have a death wish to pull out from something like Sakusa Enterprises - but it’s etiquette, and it’s still important to maintain general communication. At the very least uphold his reputation as a studious businessman.

He traces the fullness of your eyelashes from where you look up at him. “Mhm.”

Kiyoomi reaches for your hand and leads you to the laboratory.

He’s not the least bit embarrassed to be leading his wife into the otherwise empty women’s bathroom. And even if it weren’t, he doubts he’d be any less unfazed. - Impassive still as he watches you glide your way into the cleanest stall and close the door behind you. Kiyoomi leans against the sink as he waits for you to finish your business.

“Can you turn the sink on? I don’t want you to hear me tinkle.”

“Tinkle?” Kiyoomi snorts as he fishes his phone out of his pocket. “Baby, I hear you tinkle every day in our bathroom. Just let it out.”

“Yeah, but this is a public place,” He can hear you pout. “And I’m already nervous. I don’t want you to make fun of me for spotting.”

Spotting. He quietly titters again. I mean, he’s brushed his teeth with you planted on the bowl before, a little piss staggering wouldn’t even faze him. But still he grabs a paper towel, and uses it to turn the nodule on one of the sinks.

“Thank you!” The better portion of your dress lifts over your heels.

It’s only a few moments that it takes till he’s hearing the telltale sound of an automatic toilet whir into the room. Even with his eyes planted on his phone, he sees you neaten your dress back down in his peripheral. Dark blues turn velvety in the bathroom lights, and pretty spaghetti straps fall loosely on your shoulders; and with the way your hair so lively shines as you walk, he’s nearly convinced that you’re an angel.

His eyes light up with familiar adoration as you approach him at the sink, the smile you pass him is enough to turn his cheeks flowery. “How long is this party gonna last for?”

“Till two, but we can leave earlier than that if you want.”

“Are you having fun?” The soap in your palms audibly squishes as you lather your hands.

Kiyoomi sighs through his nose. “I’m making good connections, but you know me. Huge crowds like these start to break me out in hives. The sooner we can get out of here, the better.”

You ring your hands in the sink. “That makes you and I both then. There’s so many important people here that I can’t help but worry. I don’t want you or anyone else to get hurt just cause some bastard has a vendetta.”

You move for the air dryer on the side of him. “I saw Onslaught and Shinobu wandering the halls together. Those two dudes make it desperately apparent that they despise us.”

“They’re attention seekers, angel. They - No, don’t use that.”

You look at him curiously as he moves you by the arm to the paper towel dispenser. “Those things are disgusting, they’re riddled with germs.”

He snatches a few out for you. “I doubt anyone here has ever bothered to disinfect these.”

You simper as you finally wipe your hands down. “Oh. Well, thank you for looking out for me, baby.”

“Always.”

Kiyoomi slides his phone in his pocket as you move for the mirror again. “They’re attention seekers,” He starts again. “They know what my status is, they know that you and I are the most prevalent family running the underground business nowadays. Anybody who’s anybody should know that the Sakusa’s have owned the better half of Asia for decades. - It’s easy for them to stay relevant when they’re feuding with the most powerful empire in the game; regardless of what risk they’re putting on their lives by doing that.”

You eye yourself in the mirror. “They’re cockroaches. They’re just feeding off us for a little bit of business talk. What will it take for them to understand that business doesn’t even exist if it doesn’t come from you in some way.”

The little boost to his ego already turns him pink, but the way you spin in the mirror has his lips curling over his teeth. “Yeah? You’re absolutely right.”

His reflection mirrors the way he reaches out for you, pulling you closer in his direction, and softly pinching your cheeks with his calloused fingers. “But it’s nothing you’ve gotta worry your pretty head about, huh? - You’re really cute..”

You pout up at him. “What if they pick a fight with us?”

Kiyoomi kisses his teeth. Uncoupling the little grip he has on your cheek to smooth it over with his thumb, and let his blithe gaze settle on the dip in your lips. “As if they’d be so stupid. Self preservation reigns, angel. They all know better.”

You give him somewhat of an unimpressed look. “Death isn’t the price you pay for slighting us, Omi.”

“You’re right,” He hums. “It’s the price they pay for slighting you.”

You lean into the kiss Kiyoomi presses gingerly onto your lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Omi.”

“So much.”

“Show me.”

He leans in for another one. A little firmer, somewhat tailed by a quiet hum but the way you move forward to deepen it has him openly sighing into your mouth. Long, savory, tender lip smacking. - Smoothing his grip under your jaw till you’re all but making out like a couple of teenagers. That’s how you make him feel - like a teenager. Jittery and palm sweaty. Meekend as you moan into the kiss and he’s rapt by butterflies. Breathless when you part from him and still overdosing on that contact high.

God, “I love you so fucking much.” He sighs.

“I love you so much more.”

Kiyoomi doesn’t think something like that could be remotely possible.

_____

Kiyoomi pushes your seat in for you as you both take your spots at the grand table.

There are many very important faces here. From the face of your renowned husband, to well known yakuza leaders, - High ranking members of The Sinaloa Cartel, Solntsevskaya Bratva, Sun Yee On, and so forth. With this many dangerous people at one table, most controlling near global power, it isn’t unheard of to feel a little out of your wits. You can’t show your fear as much as you want to, sitting at this table with your husband means sharing the collective power he has - and representing it as well. Much like the other wives and spouses sitting with their respective criminal lovers, you keep your cool with a natural grace. Still pretty even as your palms start to sweat.

Ken Shōhei, leader of the sixth generation yellow fangs, raises his glass to propose a toast. He glitters with shined jewels and gaudy rings as they reflect in the chandelier light. You glance at his wife before glancing at him. Catching a less than friendly evil eye that chills you straight to the blue bone. If you had to guess, they’re friends of Onslaught. If you had to guess again, you’d say it’s probably upsetting to realize you’re not the hottest foreign wife in the room anymore.

“Beautiful people of this nation - of your respective nations,” He begins. “Let us take this moment to reflect on the novelty of such business making and our untaintable honor. To the choices we’ve made thus far that has led us here. The chances we take that - understandably shouldn’t work out in our favor - but has. Our fortune, our hard work, the allies we’ve made today and the friends we’ll make tomorrow. I propose a toast to us. To our virtues, and to our decency. Let us all come together and celebrate ourselves.”

His wife smiles as she picks up her glass. “To ourselves!”

The rest of the table brandish their cups and follow suit. “To ourselves!”

The chatter continues as most of them take a quick sip to their glasses.

Or well, all except for you and Kiyoomi, who’s got the flute halfway to his lips before you stop him in his tracks. “Wait, baby.”

“Hm?”

You lean in to whisper softly. “These glasses don’t smell clean.”

“Hm?” Kiyoomi furrows as he dips his nose in his champagne flute. “They don’t-? Oh. Ew.”

He reaches for your glass. “Don’t even touch that. We’ll sanitize our hands after they-“

Someone’s choking.

Someone’s hacking and gasping for air right in front of you. Loud enough to startle as your head whips in the direction of whoever it is coughing up a lung across the table, and Kiyoomi instinctively reaches for you - pulling you by the bicep as he prepares to step out of his seat.

It’s an appropriate knee jerk reaction for what actually unfolds in front of you. Kiyoomi forces you to your feet as Shōhei’s body crashes into the fine cloth of the grand table and sends the majority of their plates crashing down with him. His shrill wheezing cuts into the silence that befalls the group of leaders as they stare down at him. Twitching and flailing before finally seizing up and you all watch in horror as he eventually goes limp.

You all watch in dread as his wife follows. Nithya, Maciej, Jalmari, Takashi, and Yuina, dropping to the floor in similar fashion. Some fall back in their seats in an effort to save themselves, some face plant into their plates before unceremoniously hitting the ground, but they all meet the same fate. Foaming at the mouth and blue from asphyxiation, all poisoned by something lethal likely slipped into their drinks.

Kiyoomi is the first to break the long stunned silence, calling over one of his underlings to meet him at the table.

He shoves his drink in his face. “Drink this.”

The man does so without hesitation.

After a few long moments the faceless scout looks generally unharmed which immediately raises red flags, but it isn’t over yet.

He hands him his wife’s drink. “And this?”

Another sip, another few long moments.

And then he’s falling to the ground.

You both stare in sickened shock as he flails on the ground just as the other victims did. Gasping for air as his spit foams over and the vessels in his eyes burst from suffocation. He’s dead within a few tortuous minutes, and Kiyoomi all but turns blue.

He nearly breaks his back with how quickly he turns for you, already frantically cupping your face in his hands. “Did you eat anything on the table? Have you eaten anything?”

There are tears in your eyes, rightfully. “N-No.”

He’s shaking. It’s a rare moment of weakness for the revered kingpin. One of the most frightening, if not the most frightening man in all of Asia - glassy eyed at the realization of his lover coming so close to death. He’s pink under eyes, pupils twitching back and forth as he frantically scans your face for any sign of change. The men and women surrounding the two of you take pause. It’s clear this is a shock to you both. That the man in question would rather kill over than put his wife in harm’s way, especially one so gruesome. ~ But there’s layers to this collective suspension shared among the room. Shock, confusion, apprehensity.

Fear.

As expected Kiyoomi’s reaction is less than pleased.

“Miya!”

At the sound of Kiyoomi’s booming voice, Atsumu races into the ballroom and up to the table. “Boss- Whoa, holy shit.”

“Bring me the heads of everyone in the kitchen,” His voice is vitriolic. It sends shivers up the spines of every living body in here. “All except for the chef. Pack him up in the shuttle.”

The boldness of the demand knocks Shinobu out of his daze, he’s kissing his teeth not even a moment later. “Don’t just start giving orders like you-“

“Shut the fuck up, Shinobu. Be thankful I don’t start picking from the table!”

One of the other businessmen at the table speaks meekly. “W-Wait. Let’s just... Everyone just-“

“Enough!” Kiyoomi narrows his eyes. And even to the most lethal of men in the room do they quaver at the venom in his voice. Sakusa Kiyoomi is not known for being an angry man. A spiteful man, sure. Cold and callous and cruel, on his worst days a little psychotic. There’s a scowl on his face more often than not, a sneer almost in the way he speaks to his adversaries and enemies alike. He’s known for being a mean son of a bitch - the meanest, really. But not angry. Not down right irate. Not so wrathful in the way he addresses the crowd around him.

“Someone here,” He breathes. “Has made an enormous lapse in judgment. If not to the leaders we just lost at this table; than to threaten me - to threaten my wife, my family,”

He’s firm yet earnest in his efforts to keep you behind him, nearly yanking you back by your arm but you bump into his firm back with one of his hands fastened over your waist. “You must’ve all forgotten that there is no one on this earth who I can’t get my hands on - especially for something so despicable. Whether they're in that kitchen or in this room, every second of their worthless life is borrowed from me. - Goro!”

The host of the ball swallows as he answers quickly. “Yes, Sakusa-san, sir?”

“Get me the names of everyone who’s been in or out of this place within the last forty eight hours, not a minute short.”

“Yes, of course.”

Kiyoomi nods his head for his men to follow as he drags his wife out by the hand.

#crime lord!sakusa kiyoomi #crime au!kiyioomi #sakusa kiyoomi #hq sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#hq x reader

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drama-glob · 5 months ago

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I've been seeing some theories pop up that Emberlynn's story is foreshadowing the season finale where we see Blitz defending Stolas.

Now, while although I'm still going to believe that this fight is between Andrealphus and them given the ice on the edges of the image, Satan could have been the one to give the approval for this confrontation and/or why Stolas needs protecting if he winds up being stripped of his power via Goetia/Sin ruling. O_O Satan was also calling someone a disgrace, so maybe he's referring to Stolas there, but I'm inclined to think he's actually addressing Ozzie just because of the whole him being in love type deal. :/ Either way, Satan is coming and he certainly seems to be on the antagonistic side of things in this story. O_O

Something that I really hope will happen is that when we see Blitz and Stolas about to be crushed, the possible person that might intervene is Ozzie because for one, we'll get the fire and ice confrontation, although if it is Satan they'll actually be facing it'll become love and war possibly; secondly, if the argument for Stolas possibly losing his title/power is because of him being in love with an imp, then what is to stop them from going after Ozzie and Fizz in the future which is already highly likely given Mammon's vendetta on the two of them, so it becomes him fighting for everyone's right to be with the one they love. :) Bee would likely side with them too given that she's with Vortex, so it has the potential to lead to a royal civil war, especially if Lucifer isn't going to intervene given he's occupied with either his ducks or with helping Charlie out. ;) (It'd be extra cool/sweet to see Fizz do a deus ex machina along with Ozzie and pull Blitz and Stolas to safety while Ozzie blocks whatever that's about to smash them ;) ).

Obviously, we'll just have to wait and see if this truly is what will happen, but ugh, just thinking about how epic this is going to be has me so excited! ^_^<3<3<3

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forever-rogue · 2 years ago

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Hi!!! I was wondering if u could do a henderson!reader x steve harrington imagine where it’s enemies to lovers and also one bed? Where they use to be childhood bestfriends but then steve ditched her for the popular crowd and they took the kids on a vacation or something and had to share a bed? It’s angsty but also fluffy fluff fluff where they admit they’re in love with eachother!!

AN | Ooh, but this got real soft and made me feel things 🥺

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2k

Masterlist | Steve, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You’re joking,” you looked at your younger brother in desperation, wanting him to come out and say that he hadn’t mean it. But he just grinned that smug little grin you wanted to wipe off his exuberant little face, “you’re joking, right?”

“Nope.”

“Dustin!” you groaned in frustration as Steve rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, “why…this doesn’t make any sense!”

“Sure it does,” he shrugged his shoulders, fully aware of what he was doing, “the rest of us are already all paired up in cabins and that just leaves the two of you. So…you’ll have to share this cabin.”

“Why can’t I share with Robin?” you flailed your arms and hit Steve in the chest, “or Nance?”

“They’re bunking together.”

“Surely they can take a third person-”

“They’re bunking together,” he repeated and you understood the implication. Damn them. You pinched your brow and shook your head.

“What about Eddie?” you offered, “why can’t I stay with Eddie?”

“I’m staying with Eddie-”

“Be a good brother and trade!”

“No can do,” he ducked out of your reach and tossed the cabin keys to Steve, “sorry! Be a good sister and make do! It’s only a week.”

“You’re the worst!” you called at his retreating back, “you’re adopted!”

“You’re the adopted one!” all you could hear was his laughter as he disappeared into the distance. You turned around and found Steve watching you intently.

“Don’t even start Harrington,” you grabbed the keys and unlocked the door before unceremoniously kicking the door open. As soon as you stepped inside of the old cabin, a sound of despair escaped your lips. No way. There was no way.

“Well,” Steve trudged in after you, tossing both of your bags onto the floor, “looks like there’s only one bed, princess.”

“Fuck me.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I am not sharing a bed with you,” you vehemently shook your head as you took a step further from him. He rolled his eyes again before flopping onto the bed and letting out a long sigh of relief, “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“You don’t even have a sleeping bag.”

“I’ll use a blanket.”

"We could share the bed. We've done it before-"

"We were stupid kids. I'll take the floor."

“It’s hardwood and it’ll be cold.”

“I’ll deal with it!” you snapped at him and he sat up, “don’t act like you suddenly care.”

A flash of hurt crossed his features for a moment before he snapped back into reality, “fine - you take the bed and I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“No.”

“Don’t be so stubborn,” he got off the bed and closed the small distance between your bodies. You were ready to make a smark retort but he was too fast, “take the bed and I will take the floor. Now stop arguing, princess, and deal with it.”

“I hate you,” you sat on the bed cross-legged as you sighed in sheer exasperation.

“The feeling’s mutual,” his back was to you so you couldn’t see his face. You wondered what his expression was because there appeared to be no venom to his tone.

This was going to be a long week.

-─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It turned out you were right…it was a very long couple of days. You were so busy trying to avoid Steve at all costs that it became less about having fun and camping with your friends and more about your little vendetta. And honestly? It was tiring. But you were too stubborn to admit you could have possibly been wrong. At least when it came to him.

And you thought you didn't have a heart anymore, but it turns out that it was still there. Even if just a little bit.

It happened midway through the week, after a rainy day that had turned into a cold night.

"Harrington," you didn't bother to turn on the light, knowing full well he was still awake. He didn't say anything, so you sighed lightly, "get up here."

"What?"

"Don't make this weird," you were already having second thoughts but it was too late now, "get in the bed…but stay on the other side. It's too cold and I don't want to hear you complaining about your sore back tomorrow."

"Are you-"

"Don't make me change my mind," you shuffled around when you heard him getting up and made it so your back was towards him, "just get in the bed and sleep."

He climbed into the bed on the opposite side, taking up just enough room to be acceptable but still leaving a divide. Your backs were to each other and you could hear his breathing slowly start to even out. Before either of you could fall asleep he spoke up again.

"I don't hate you, you know," his admission was so quiet you weren't even sure it was meant for you to hear. You swallowed thickly, trying to decide if you should respond, "I know you're awake."

"What do you want me to say?" You squeezed your eyes shut as you burrowed your face into the pillow, "that I don't hate you? That I forgive you? Because that would be a lie."

"Maybe if I knew why you suddenly decided to hate me, I could have apologized-"

"Don't act like you don't know!" You were blinking back tears fighting the urge to roll over and glare at him.

"I'm not acting," he sat up and ran a hand through his messy hair, only giving you a cursory little glance, "what did I do? Why have you hated me for the last five years?"

"Are you serious?” this time you did roll around and glared at him, huffing heavily. He gave a no duh kind of look and you narrowed your eyes at him, “we were best friends. You said we would always be best friends…forever. But then one day you just left me behind and never looked back. I couldn’t even manage to get you alone to talk or anything. You were always with your new popular friends.”

“Oh,” he mused thoughtfully, a deep frown tugging down the corners of his mouth, “that’s what…all this time?”

“Steve,” you sighed lightly but the fact that you actually used his first name for a change was not lost on him, “your friends were assholes. They were rude to me - everyone except their little clique. It seemed like as soon as you started hanging out with them no one else mattered. You didn’t even try and defend me when they picked on me.”

“They were rude to you?” every word from your mouth made his heart break a little more. If he could go back now, he’d do everything differently. He’d been so lost and alone during those years, it was just recently that he started feeling like himself again.

“Yeah,” you swallowed thickly, “but that doesn’t matter now, does it? I guess it just…I thought we’d always be friends, like we’d always said. But it seemed so easy for you to just forget about me.”

“Because whenever you weren’t around your little friends were assholes to me,” you huffed in frustration, “at least when you were around they ignored me. That was better than the alternative.”

“I never forgot about you,” he whispered. But really, it was just too little too late, “I thought…you hated me. At first, I kept trying to get you to hang out with us, but you never even looked at me.”

A heavy silence fell over the two of you for a while, so thick you could have it easily cut through it with even the dullest of knives.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered softly, breaking the silence and causing you to startle.

“It doesn’t matter,” you closed your eyes and tried to make yourself comfortable again, hoping to be able to get some sleep, “what’s done is done. Let’s just get some sleep.”

From the tattered silence next to you, you could tell there was more that he wanted to say. You just weren’t sure if you wanted to listen. You wanted to keep hating him - it was easier than admitting that deep down you were still in love with him.

Yeah. That realization hurt.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next couple of days passed in relative peace, which came as a shocker to everyone. They all regarded the two of you cautiously, like they were worried that somehow they would cause everything to break. Meanwhile you and Steve decided to ignore it and pretend that nothing was wrong or different. It was easier than finishing the conversation that lingered between you.

It was the night before you were all set to leave that something changed again. You were packing up your things, more or less pretending that Steve didn’t exist when you heard him sit on the bed with a sigh.

“Can we talk?” you turned around and looked at him in surprise. Your instinct was to argue with him, but instead you offered him a curt nod and sat down next to him. You could see him swallow thickly, “listen, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. Truly. For everything that’s happened and��and not sticking to our promise.”

“Okay,” you nodded, and while part of you wanted to continue to stay mad, but you were also tired of the fight, “thank you.”

“I never stopped…” his voice dropped off and you raised an eyebrow gently nudging his leg with yours so he would go on. It was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop. But then he dropped the biggest shocker of all, “I never stopped loving you.”

“Oh,” you recoiled in surprise and he grimaced. Your heart was almost beating out of your chest in surprise, “oh. Well, I-I guess deep down I still love you too. We spent most of our lives together so…”

“Not like that,” he shook his head and angled his body towards yours, “not like that.”

“Like…oh.”

“Yeah,” his pretty face was flushed pink as you opened and closed your mouth a few times, unsure of exactly what you wanted to say, “I’m sorry…I probably shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean to make things worse, but also kind of just needed to get that out there..”

“Steve…” you closed your eyes, wondering how you could possibly convey what you were feeling with words. There were a lot of things going around all at once, “are you sorry for the feelings or telling me?”

“Telling you,” he almost choked on the words and you nodded in understanding, “I can finish packing and then see if I can crash with Eddie and Dustin.”

You reached for his hand and stopped him from walking away, gently shaking your head. He looked confused but you stood up and took a step closer to him, “don’t go.”

“Sweetheart-”

“I’m not going to pretend that this solves everything,” you whispered, “we still have a lot of fighting to do, and fighting with people you love is worth it, fighting for the right thing.”

“Oh,” this time it was his turn to be dumbfounded, “what do you-”

You took his face in your hands and leaned in to press a kiss to his lips, effectively silencing both of you. When you pulled back, the two of you exchanged small, shy smiles.

“I never stopped either,” you promised, “just so you know.”

“Yeah?” his pretty face lit up and you couldn’t help but mirror the enthusiasm back to him.

“Yeah,” you were positive you’d never been more sure, “but we’ll still talk about it right? I don’t want to just sweep everything under the rug.”

“We will,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “we’ll fight and figure it all out.”

“Perfect.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #joe keery #st

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rapunzelbro · 1 year ago

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Imagine you and Lucifer on his chair

Ngl this isn’t my best but I tried lol. This was based on an Anon request 🫡

Masterlist Taglist

You and Lucifer have been dating for a while and when you first noticed this man’s signature chair

You have to fucking sit in it

It’s just powerful as hell looking and holy shit?? It’s amazing??

Lucifer catching you and bro is all like

“Well I see there’s something you might like more than me ducky~”

Definitely teases you about it

When he is working he tries to make sure to use the chair instead of the smaller one so you can sit with him

You’ll be on this man’s lap sprawled out while he makes his little ducks

You’re practically this man’s lap dog but neither of you mind

You want to feel his touch and feel his heat constantly so you’re glad he doesn’t mind

Don’t think he won’t grab your ass your on his chair laying across him

So many damn make out sessions on that chair

So many

‘Punishes’ you for being in his chair without asking

He definitely means hardcore major sex and you dont mind it one damn bit

Just know if you sit in his chair it’s your own fault for what kinda trouble you got yourself into

Super short so sorry didn’t know exactly how to go about this but hey I tried lmao I might add more later. Driving a ton but wanted to post something

Lucifer tag list: Lucifer Taglist: @vendetta-ari @brithedemonspawn @katshyperfixations @aphestina @satansmanager @irethepotato @mixplara

#hazbin charlie #hazbin vaggie #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #husk hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin alastor #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel #hazbin art #hazbin lucifer #hazbin vox #hazbin spoilers

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chaotic-orphan · 6 months ago

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Vendetta (IX)

Read part one here // Continued from this part here

*~*~*~*~*

Hero ducked under outstretched arms. Feigned left, lunged right. A flash of colour to their left, then heat. Hero sidestepped the tendrils of fire that shot out from the villain’s hands. They weren’t quick enough. The flames caught Hero’s shoulder and they faltered with a cry, their hand going to the burns, but they grit their teeth and kept moving forward, charging Fire Villain.

Hero grabbed Fire Villain’s wrist in a death grip, nullifying their ability. Their hand chopped through the air going for the throat. Fire villain gasped, doubled over, struggling back a step, clicking their fingers for flames that wouldn’t ignite. Hero yanked them closer by the wrist and crunched their elbow into Fire villain’s nose, eliciting a shriek of pain. Hero finally let go, sweeping fire villain’s legs from under them. Stomping on their ankle as they fell, then their face and bolted again.

Ahead of them shouts of encouragement only harshened the headache pounding in Hero’s ears, pushing themselves faster. Their shoulder burned as the wind caught it, but Hero kept pushing forward, gritting their teeth against the pain. They had to get to Superhero. They had to stop Supervillain.

They had to stop the war right here, right now.

Hero barrelled through the crowd of villains, undetected by the group whose attention was fixed on Superhero and Supervillain in the centre.

Superhero’s eyes widened when they met Hero’s. Supervillain took the opportunity to dash forward, swinging Hero’s sword down in an arc. Superhero barely had enough time to cross his arms in an X shape over their head, catching the blade on their vambrace. Supervillain tossed his lazy gaze over his shoulder, keeping the pressure on Superhero’s arms with ease, icy eyes landing on Hero.

A horrible grin stretched across his face as Hero pushed into the circle with the pair. “Ah, Hero. Come to enjoy the show? Out of your cuffs and everything. Naughty, naughty. Superhero… you should’ve raised them with better manners.”

Superhero threw their arms up while Supervillain was distracted, pushing the sword away and sidestepping the edge. He lunged on the inside of the blade, batting it away with his forearm and kicking Supervillain back to the edge of the tight circle of villains. Hands reached out to keep Supervillain up, ensuring he didn’t fall.

“Hero,” Superhero said, a muscle in his jaw tightening as Hero stepped towards Supervillain. Supervillain backed up to keep both Hero and Superhero in his vision, swinging the sword in his hand.

Hero narrowed their eyes into a burning glare, catching their breath from running through the battlefield that stank of blood and shit. The group somehow smelled worse, pungent heat mixing with sweat.

Hero’s mouth was dry from running, but they pushed through everything in their body that was telling them to stop. To lie down and go home. That told them this was too hard, they should give up now. You’ve done enough now, Vigilante is gone. Give up fighting, nobody will think less of you.

“That’s my sword,” Hero told Supervillain, ignoring the intrusive thoughts screaming in their head. They put their hand out, palm up. “I’d like it back now.”

Supervillain tsked. “Hero… it’s kind of concerning that you want my attention so badly. Clearly Superhero’s opinion of you has gone to your head. You’re not everyone’s sweetheart.”

A pop behind Hero and something was shoved into their hands. Another pop and Hero glanced down to see their sheath with their secondary sword. Hero wanted to close their eyes and pray, thank the Gods for Teleport, but instead they drew their sword, dropping their scabbard to the ground. Wiping their sweaty palms on their trousers, Hero tightened their fingers around the hilt to get a better grip.

Supervillain smirked at the pair of heroes ahead of him.

“Two on one is a little unfair, wouldn’t you say, lads?” A cheer around them. Hero and Superhero retreated, back to back on instinct, looking warily around them.

Hero saw a flash of Supervillain’s toothy grin as he stabbed Hero’s sword into the dirt, leaning his weight on top of it like it was a cane and crossing his legs. Entirely too casual, his voice dipped, darkening as he said: “How about we even the odds?”

Another cry and the swarm of Villains descended like a plague of locusts upon them. Hero kicked out at the first Villain that ran at them, leaning on Superhero’s back to get more force behind it. The next one lunged while someone pulled at Hero’s shirt, trying to yank them to the right and away from Superhero.

Hero jutted their arm up sharply, deflecting a blow with the flat of their blade, but they were too slow. A fist crunched into Hero’s face from the left and they stumbled and then there were hands on them. Hero kicked out, thrashing and raging against the hands holding them. They were sharply pulled to the left, the hands on them unrelenting, but Hero kicked out at the Villain trying to body check them on the right.

A villain sprung up in front of them and Hero barely dodged the knife going for their eye. Hero punched them in the solar plexus and the Villain folded, but they didn’t get to fall.

Blood splattered across Hero’s face, and they flinched and froze for a split second, stumbling back into the hands of villains. The taste of iron infested their mouth, heightening the stench of blood and metal that surrounded them. The villain that they just punched— their head was ripped open and their deadweight fell on top of Hero. Hero fought back a retch, struggling to push the body off them.

Two bright yellow eyes the colour of pus gleamed down at Hero, a wicked grin on a pretty face and they were speaking but Hero couldn’t hear them over the cacophony of sound that assaulted their senses. Her face was covered in blood too, blood that she licked from her fingers, as if it was sauce leftover from chicken wings.

Hero threw their arms up in defence, not hearing anything over the pounding of their thundering heart.

The girl stumbled forward, her mouth falling open, frozen in shock. Hero only distantly realised the hand that was through her chest, roughly pulling out after the girl fell like a rag-doll to the ground, motionless. The look of surprise etched into her face forever.

Superhero was in front of them then, grabbing Hero and yanking them up, their hand like a vice around Hero’s arm. Hero flinched when their eyes met Superhero’s. There was a horrible sense of urgency in them that Hero couldn’t feel, their body felt numb. Did they have pieces of that Villain’s face on their—

“Hero! Hero! Snap out of it!” Superhero cried, but Hero’s eyes drifted down to Superhero’s hand, slick with blood. Superhero moved like a blur around them. One Villain stepped towards the pair and Superhero whirled, both hands finding the villain’s head. A swift movement and the villain’s neck snapped and they fell.

“Hero!” Superhero screamed, glancing behind him at the still comatose Hero who was just standing there. Another Villain went to attack Hero, but Superhero got there first, breaking the Villain’s arm, then ripping it from the socket. The Villain screamed as Superhero smashed their foot against the Villain’s knee, crippling them and shoving them away.

Hero blinked at Superhero, recognition flashing in their eyes. “Hero- we have to—”

A crackle of electricity behind Superhero and Hero’s body moved before their mind realised it. They shoved Superhero out of the way and lunged forward, grabbing the electric villain’s arm, and nullifying their ability before they surged their sword arm forward and up, under the Villain’s armour. Their sword poked out of the villain’s mouth, who stared at Hero with a horrible knowing they were about to die on their face. Don’t think about it, Hero told themselves. Keep moving. Don’t think. Keep moving. Blood splattered across their face as Hero pulled their sword out, kicking the corpse back into another group of villains.

And more were coming.

It seemed like every Villain they cut down, four more took their place, and the circle was getting smaller and smaller and Hero could barely catch their breath between the bodies.

Don’t think. Keep moving.

Slice. Block. Superhero’s fist cracked and crunched into Villains behind Hero, but they kept fighting.

Kick. Punch. Another haunted expression. Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t think.

They had to win.

Another death at Hero’s hands. Keep moving.

They had to stop Supervillain here.

Another body fell and three more Villains surged forward with cries of bloodlust. Hero cut them down like weeds. Don’t think.

They had to end the war. End all the fighting, all the dying.

Just stop, Hero. Give up, nobody would think less of you. The thought made Hero pause in their movements. A mistake, they realised too late.

A hand clamped down on Hero’s hair and they were dragged back. Hero let out a startled cry, losing their footing as they were yanked back. Hero swung their sword at the Villains coming towards them.

“Hero!” Superhero cried from somewhere in the masses. Hero adjusted their grip on the sword until the blade was aimed behind them, grabbing the hilt with both hands they drove it backwards and up. A sudden, piercing scream and Hero jerked forwards, their hair still heavy.

Hero whirled. A villain was standing clutching a bleeding stump and screaming. Hero shook, their entire body trembling as they reached for their hair and found the hand still bunched in their hair. Hero ripped it off, the smell of piss and sweat overwhelming them as fell back, the ground growing slippy. Tears sprung to their eyes, but Hero had to get up. They had to get up or they’d die.

Hero dug their sword into the ground and pulled themself up with an effort. It felt as if all of Hero’s energy was zapped from them as they got to shaking feet.

They barely had the chance to catch their breath before a villain was rushing them. Hero didn’t think, they lifted their sword and let the Villain impale themselves. The Villain didn’t die immediately, and horrifically Hero’s sword got caught between the Villain’s ribs when Hero tried to yank it out. Hero planted a foot on the Villain’s pelvis, yanking on the sword but it didn’t budge an inch. Instead, Hero kicked them back into the masses of bodies, unarmed.

Shit they should really find—

“HERO!”

Superhero… Hero turned to Superhero’s voice. Their mind a fog. It felt as if their eyes were too slow to catch up with their surroundings that seemed to zoom past them. A sudden pit opened up in their stomach, their mind screaming DANGER! But Hero was turning towards Superhero, exhaustion pulling at their muscles. Tiredness pulling at their eyes.

Chocolate brown curls fell over a pair of cool, cold eyes that flashed with malice. Hero barely had time to process before something hard slammed against their jaw. Hero’s head whipped to the side and was righted by a cold hand, before it hit them again in the same place.

The world spun around them as Hero spluttered out a gasp, raising their knee to try and dislodge Villain from them. Villain smiled a cold smile. A flash of metal and the breath was taken from Hero who folded around the object, their legs giving up on them.

“Shh, Hero,” Villain cooed, running their hand through Hero’s matted hair. “It’s okay. You fought well, Vigilante would be proud.”

“HERO!”

Hero let out a loud cry, spitting blood, thrusting their elbow up towards Villain. Their strike went wide, Villain parrying with his gun and hit Hero over the head again. Hero would have fallen if Villain wasn’t holding them up, they realised, with how heavy they were leaning on Villain’s arm. They wanted to throw up, they wanted to sleep.

They needed to end this war.

A cold mocking voice piped up from the back of their head: you’re going to end this war? With what?! With who! The war won’t be finished by some half-conscious, possibly concussed, disarmed mess that needs someone else to hold them up!

Hero winced. The voice was so loud, their shouts echoing around Hero’s dumb head like a cavern.

A thick, cold shadow crawled from Villain’s fingertips around Hero’s neck like a collar and leash, choking them. Hero gasped, hands flying to their throat to try and dispel the shadow but nothing. Villain yanked their hands down, tying them in front of Hero with his whip and yanked Hero forward again.

Hero followed because they couldn’t not, they didn’t have the energy to pull against Villain, their legs shaking as Villain paraded them through the crowd of villains. The heat from the bodies squeezing Hero on all sides threatened to knock them out from pure exhaustion and lack of air. Everything was too much, it was all too much.

The air smelled of smoke and vomit, and iron. Hero gasped on no air, struggling to breathe with the little leeway that Villain granted on Hero’s neck pulling tighter the more Hero resisted. They weren’t trying to resist they just couldn’t… their body didn’t want to move anymore, they could barely fucking see straight. Everything was reduced to whirling colours, a deafening ringing sounded between Hero’s ears, blocking out all other sounds. Or could everyone hear that?

When they finally emerged into the middle of the significantly thinned circle of villains, Hero’s eyes went to Superhero who was fighting Crow. Hero yanked against the whip in Villain’s hands. They had to get free. They had to help Superhero…

Villain only pulled the whip sharp in reply and Hero was yanked forwards. Their feet couldn’t gain purchase fast enough on the wet ground and they slipped, hands out to catch themselves. Villain yanked on the whip at the last second and Hero’s plunged face-first into the blood-stained mud. They shot up immediately, spewing and sputtering out the taste in their mouth.

Hero’s eyes shot to Superhero who was covered in blood, his hands stained to his shoulders with the dried, flaked crimson and fresh blood dripped from his fingertips. Someone kicked Superhero in the back of the knee and Superhero fell to his knees.

“No…” Hero mumbled, their tongue fat in their mouth. They army crawled forward. “Superhero… no… get up.”

Villain grabbed Hero by the hair and yanked their head up so they could get a better view of their fallen leader. Supervillain stepped in front of Superhero, Hero’s sword coated in blood already. For a single, heart breaking moment, Superhero’s kind eyes met Hero’s. Something sad pulled at the edges of his smile.

Hero mirrored the frown, needing their brain to process what it meant. What was happening? What were they looking at?!

Hero struggled against Villain’s hold, more out of instinct than anything else, but they didn’t get anywhere. They stiffened when the gun pressed against their temple.

“Here is the great Superhero,” Supervillain yelled. “A symbol of the old world order. A symbol of powered individuals forced to live in hiding. Told that we’re freaks, and dangers to society!”

Supervillain turned in a circle, looking every member of his captive audience in the eye. “Well I say no more.”

There was a chorus of cheers.

“I say NO MORE!” He screamed, and the cheer turned to screams and riotous applause. It exasperated the thundering headache that threatened to burst Hero’s skull. They slumped against the gun at their temple, but quickly perked up with a hiss when Villain yanked on their hair again.

Supervillain smirked at Hero, on their knees, shaking their head. “Supervillain… please… don’t… don’t do this.”

“I’m so glad you’re here to witness this, Hero,” Supervillain told them. Hero felt bile rise in their throat at the elation in his voice. “Let it serve as a reminder of what happens to those that oppose me.”

The ringing got louder as Hero’s desperate eyes went to Superhero’s. Superhero still smiling sadly at them. Hero lurched forward with a cry of protest as Supervillain turned.

“It’s okay, Hero,” Superhero said. “Everything will be—”

The sword plunged under Superhero’s armour. Hero watched as blood gurgled up and over his lips, a small trickle at first. Then, a waterfall. Supervillain twisted the sword before yanking it out, scraping against bone and wet flesh. In the distance someone was screaming.

Hero blinked at the scene, flinching when some of the blood from Supervillain’s blade flicked back onto them. Superhero… that was… that was Superhero’s blood. Hero didn’t lower their gaze from Superhero’s face. At one point Superhero fell forward. One of the Villains behind Superhero grabbed him and pulled him up so Supervillain could plunge the sword in again.

This time it ripped. Villains still cheered, someone was still screaming. Hero couldn’t take their eyes off Superhero’s face, the same sad smile echoing back at Hero.

Frozen. This was how Superhero’s face would remain forever. Like all the Villains that Hero killed today. This was how his face would stay. A sad, knowing smile on his face. Nothing shocked or terrified, Superhero greeted death with a smile on his face. A smile that was to reassure Hero, to make Hero feel better.

A smile that said: it’s okay. I know. We tried our best and we failed, and it’s okay.

That wasn’t how Superhero was supposed to greet death.

Not… not making an expression to comfort Hero.

That can’t be how Superhero dies.

It seemed as if the entire world rushed by Hero’s ears, bringing them back to the present with a renewed laser focus.

That can’t be how Superhero dies!

Hero sucked in a breath as the sword squelched out of Superhero. Someone said something, Supervillain gestured. He pulled out a dagger and sliced an arc down Superhero’s face. Hero struggled in Villain’s hold, roaring:

“GET OFF HIM!” Hero screamed, surging forwards but they were wrenched back, their voice going hoarse as they struggled in vain against Villain’s hold. “DON’T TOUCH HIM! STOP! STOP!”

Something hard hit the back of Hero’s head and they jolted forwards, collapsing onto their elbows, crying into the dirt. Twin streams of spit, snot and tears fell onto the ground under Hero’s head and they squeezed their eyes shut, not wanting to see it anymore. See Supervillain cutting Superhero’s body because… because Superhero… Superhero didn’t lose.

Superhero didn’t die with a smile.

Superhero never lost. Superhero may have cut it close every once in a while but he always walked away from a fight. Superhero wasn’t—

A sharp tug in their hair and Hero was yanked to their knees again, then to their feet. Hero threw their elbow back, catching something but what they didn’t care as they bolted towards Superhero.

They fell to their knees beside his body, their hands reaching to Superhero’s pulse. It was faint, but it was there.

Hero turned wet eyes to Supervillain, pleading. A black figure from the corner of their eye advanced on them, but Supervillain held a hand up, stopping them.

“Plea— p-p-please,” Hero whispered, sniffing, their voice hoarse and quiet, but Supervillain heard. He tilted his head, eyes drinking in Hero’s broken state. “Please… don’t kill him, please… please. I’m— i’m begging you, Supervillain. I’ll do ah-anything.”

Superhero can’t die with a comforting smile on his face. That wasn’t his death, that can’t be his death. Always looking out for someone other than his stupid fucking self! Superhero deserved to be selfish in death! At least in death!

Supervillain leaned back, pursing his lips as if he was chewing Hero’s words, tasting them, trying to find some flavour within them to his liking. He leaned forward, cupping Hero’s cheek in his hand and thumbing away the trails of tears and dirt and blood.

Hero shook in his hold but didn’t dare pull away. “Would you show me the same consideration?”

Hero blinked, sniffing. “What?”

Supervillain’s expression wasn’t mocking or cruel, he looked genuine. Patient, even. “If the roles were reversed, Hero. If Superhero had won and I was on the ground, dying, would you let Superhero kill me here? In the dirt?”

Hero’s breath hitched, their eyes drifting to Superhero’s face, his lips stained bright red with blood. Unnatural. Superhero’s lips were never bright red. Supervillain gently tilted Hero’s head back to him.

“Would you?” He asked, voice soft.

Hero’s bottom lip quivered. “I- I don’t think an-anyone should d-die like this.”

Supervillain smiled. It was kind, without malice. Hero swallowed the lump in their throat. Not daring to let themself hope but- but what if?

“So what would you do, Hero? Take me prisoner? Have a trial for my crimes?”

Hero shivered. “Yes.”

Supervillain paused. Hero held their breath as Supervillain pulled away and got to his feet with a grunt. He surprised Hero by walking over to them and helping Hero to their feet too, gentle movements all the while. Not too fast, trying not to spook the trembling Hero. Hero protested leaving Superhero’s side by Supervillain shushed them.

“It’s okay, Hero,” Supervillain coaxed, whispering sweet nothings into Hero’s matted hair. “There we go. Villain?”

Two more hands grabbed Hero’s shoulders. “Be gentle with them,” Supervillain told Villain as he pulled away.

Hero grabbed Supervillain’s arm before he could. Burning eyes met ice cold glaciers that smiled warmly at Hero. “You’re- you’re not going to k-kill him?”

“No, Hero. I won’t kill him.” Supervillain said softly and Hero’s legs went from under them in relief. Villain held them up while Hero cried, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.

Supervillain spread his arms out, bending down to scoop Hero’s sword from the dirt. Villain held Hero loosely to the side, their eyes never leaving Superhero’s body.

“My friends!” Supervillain boomed, his voice carrying over the battleground. “We’ve won!”

The field erupted into applause and cheers, villains roaring their triumph and chanting Supervillain’s name.

“Hero has begged me to spare Superhero’s life,” Supervillain bellowed with a grin, turning to face Hero again and winking. Hero flinched at the chorus of boo’s and mocking aww’s, jarring and vicious. “So I will not kill Superhero.”

Hero risked a baffled smile, though it probably looked pathetic. Maybe Supervillain was telling the truth. Maybe he did want to stop this endless violence between heroes and villains. Hero’s eyes got their determination back and they nodded at Supervillain, who returned the gesture with a smile of his own.

His arms still spread to his rowdy crowd, Supervillain’s icy eyes turned sharp, cunning twisting the side of his lips up and when he looked at Hero again there was something off about the picture. Something that told Hero there was something wrong. What were they missing?

What were they missing?

Grieves walked from the crowd that parted for him, walking up behind Supervillain. He plucked the sword from Supervillain’s hands who never took his eyes off of Hero. Grieves didn’t break his stride as he turned Hero’s sword upside down, walking towards Superhero on the ground.

Hero’s eyes widened too late, their face pulled from peace to horror in the space of a second. They lunged forward while Grieves slammed the blade of Hero’s sword through Superhero’s armour and into his heart.

Arms locked around Hero as they sprung for Supervillain, an animalistic shriek pulled from deep within their bones. “YOU FUCKING MONSTER! YOU BASTARD! YOU SAID YOU WOULDN’T—” Hero screamed over the cries of victory and celebration.

Supervillain walked around Grieves to Hero who was practically foaming at the mouth, blood-stained-spittle flying as they screamed. “YOU’RE A LIAR! YOU’RE A LIAR!”

Supervillain pinched Hero’s chin jutting Hero’s attention towards him. His arctic gaze freezing Hero solid. “I didn’t lie, Hero. I held up my end of our bargain. I said I wouldn’t kill him. And I didn’t,” Supervillain said very matter-of-factly, as if he were speaking to a child throwing a tantrum. Though his wide smile betrayed his joy and malicious intentions. “Grieves killed him.”

“You fucking MONSTER! I’ll kill you!” Hero vowed, their promise coming out guttural, voice hoarse with grief and despair; broken. “I’ll—”

“Promises, promises,” Supervillain said, dropping Hero’s chin. “Superhero had to die, but that was only half of the main event, dear Hero. Now to the good part.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Continued here

Orphanage roll-call: @micechomper @aarika-merrill @silentpotat0 @dutifullykrispyland @gloriousqueen101

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