#which i wish i'd known before i was like. out

[peppermintquartz]

A potentially (even more) angsty prompt:

A couple month after the breakup (and Buck moping around), the 118 is called to a crashed Harbor helicopter.

Or alternatively, Buck is not on shift and Chim calls Buck that Tommy is in the hospital via a helicopter crash (the rest of the 118 rescued him). A la Chim's Henren matchmaking.

Whatever level of injury you wish for either is good!

(for the purposes of this ficlet, their breakup is NOT the 8x06 version, just one where Tommy is like "we're moving too fast, I need some time" and they agree to give it a pause, and it still sucks but they're not exes)

---

"So... Have you two patched up yet?" Eddie broaches the subject cautiously. It's a fifty-fifty chance that Buck will be willing to share or snap his head off.

"I asked him out for a drink," Buck says, eyes on his book (Slow Productivity, which seems kinda strange for a guy working as a firefighter). "He said he'll take a raincheck." He sounds emotionless, which means he's sort of upset but not overly so.

Which makes sense, since Tommy and Buck did have a Not-A-Date brunch to catch up two weeks ago. Eddie was there, too, desperate wishing he had an excuse not to be, so that the two yearning idiots would just get back together.

Eddie's about to say more when the alarm goes and Bobby hustles everyone onto their engines. Curiously, Bobby sits in the back, telling Hen to take his usual seat.

"What do we got, Cap?" Chimney asks, snapping his gum. It's a new habit - the man is stressed about a second child. The sirens scream to life and they're off.

Bobby puts a hand on Buck's shoulder. "Airlift gone wrong. A chopper went down while delivering a heart to First Presbyterian."

Eddie sees the younger man go still. Buck won't ask, so Eddie bites the bullet. "It's Tommy?"

Before he answers, Bobby tightens his grip on Buck. "It's Tommy."

--

The good news is that the chopper hadn't gained much altitude when it crashed. The better news is that its cargo, a heart ready for transplant, is still intact, so it's quickly rushed off to the hospital in an ambulance.

The bad news is, it was Tommy piloting.

The worst news is, he needs blood. A lot of blood. Hen and Chimney are packing the wounds and stabilizing what they can and Bobby is calling Dispatch to relay messages for a transfusion.

"Blood type, B-pos, no known allergies," Buck rattles off to Bobby and Hen, helping to lift Tommy, collared and strapped on a backboard, onto the gurney. His jaw is tight and his hands are steady. "His emergency contact is..."

He falters as Tommy is wheeled into the ambulance.

Eddie shoves him. "Get in there." When Buck turns to look at him, eyes wide, Eddie pushes him again. "Get in there. You're his emergency contact as far as we know, so go. Tommy won't survive your delay."

That spurs Buck into moving with alacrity. The ambulance pulls out, sirens screaming, and Eddie feels his heart pounding in his mouth.

Then he feels Bobby standing beside him. "They haven't patched up?"

"They're idiots," Eddie says with heartfelt vehemence.

Bobby sighs.

--

Eddie goes to the hospital three hours later, after the shift. Buck is still in his uniform, so Eddie passes him his duffel and shoos him off to change.

"What news?" Eddie asks when Buck joins him again.

"They've stopped the bleeding," Buck says, closing his eyes. "Now they need to work on the impalement."

Eddie sits next to his best friend. He doesn't speak.

"I'm done," Buck says suddenly, sounding like he's gargled gravel. "I'm done. When he wakes up, I'm gonna... I don't know what I'm gonna do, but I am not doing this stupid 'pause button' shit any longer."

Oh thank God. Eddie can stop feeling like he's a child caught between divorced parents.

Then, because he is and always has been a realist, he asks, "What if he doesn't wanna press the play button?"

Buck looks a little sick. He clenches his jaw and shakes his head. "Then we want different things out of this. And I'd rather it hurt all at once now than later." His eyes look shockingly blue against the paleness of his face.

Eddie pats his friend's knee, and leans back to grab some shut-eye.

--

Eddie takes on the bulk of Buck-sitting duties for the next four days, spelled by Bobby. (Buck takes time off. No one begrudges it.) Maddie manages to get Buck to go home to shower but she can't make him sleep in his own bed.

Convenient that Tommy crashed just before our off days, Eddie thinks, a little bitchily, the day he comes back after a shift.

Man broke Buck's heart. Eddie figures he's due a little bitchiness.

It takes five false alarms before Tommy is truly awake and alert enough to register Buck and Eddie are there.

The heart rate monitor beeps a little more urgently.

"I'm here, honey," Buck murmurs, taking Tommy's hand immediately and squeezing it. "Relax, okay? Docs and nurses gonna look at you for a bit first."

Tommy blinks, and on his horribly pale and scruffy face is a ghost of a relieved smile. He can't talk, but his mouth forms something that sounds suspiciously like "eh en", or "Evan", and Buck smiles so brightly that he probably powered the machines with its intensity.

Eddie feels the ground under his feet right itself as the doctor and nurses take over. Yeah, that pause button is going away. He sends a message to the group chat.

Hen replies, Bets on when they move in together. $5 min.

[bamfkeeper]

Bamf Babies

RQ: 'I saw that you opened your requests and could I request a dabble of the daily life of Kurt and his partner who treats his bamfs as if they're are their babies? Like she cooks for them, makes them little clothes, tucks them in, gives them names (with Kurt's approval, of course), and all that?' - @mari-thesimp

Warnings: GN reader, though the term 'mother' is used just once just as a way to describe your role. Unedited.

A/N: Umm yes??? Ugh, this was a fun little drabble. The bamfs, come on, cute little guys. I wish I had one. I'd kill for one.

The bamfs were...a lot...when you first met them. They were like little gremlins who were constantly at full energy, scampering around and getting into things they weren't supposed to. The only time they weren't running around so much was when they finally sat to eat. Kurt noticed that they were fond of you right away, and while he has to leave for missions, he decides to leave them with you, or at least a few at a time before it gradually turned into all of them.

You became their unofficial mother. But like hell you'd deny that.

The bamfs slept with you, all curled up beside you like a litter of kittens. Their soft, velvety skin felt so warm against you, like gentle peach fuzz. Sometimes they fought to sleep the closest to you, some would cry and you'd have to reassure them.

Bamfs can be quite jealous, so you have to make sure to show equal amounts of affection and love, otherwise it can cause an unruly bamf which is never fun. As you learned how they worked, you got better at managing them all.

Each morning, you wake up and made them breakfast. Kurt is normally exhausted, so you let him sleep in. The bamfs scramble out of bed with you, eager and happy. their little chirps and chitters fill the kitchen as they gather by your feet. Some climb on the counter, trying their best to help you cook. Pancakes were their favorite, but they weren't so good at making them. They tried, but they often made a big mess with the batter. Then they fought...and an even bigger mess happens.

So you handle the mixing. You learned.

They still liked to try to help, so you let them put chocolate chips or blueberries in them if they wanted. Each pancake you poured, you held up a bamf and they sprinkled in their add-on. Each one was served and given syrup, and now you had a handful of happy, quiet bamfs. Still and busy eating their food. Their big cheeks full of sweet pancakes as they ate happily.

"Guten Morgen..." Kurt says groggily, making his presence known. He's got major bedhead, trudging over to you and rubbing his eye sleepily. You return the greeting, smiling at him as he hugs you from behind. "Any for me...?" he asks tiredly, his face nuzzles your neck.

"Of course," you chuckle lightly. The bamfs had to get their sweet tooth from somewhere, and Kurt's sweet tooth was crazy.

You make Kurt his breakfast, and pass out cut up bananas and fruits for the bamfs. Some pout, and you chuckle. "Now, you have to have something healthy too, little ones. Besides, bananas and berries are yummy." You spoke gently to them, scratching their heads as you distributed the food. They all reluctantly ate the fruit, wanting to make you happy.

After breakfast, it's bath time. You bath the bamfs twice a day, they get...dirty, very easy. Luckily all of them can fit in the bathtub, so it's not that difficult. You scrub them and wash their hair, seeing them happily splash and play in the water. Some hate the water, they are like cats, trying to get away from the tiniest of drops, but you manage. There are one or two where Kurt has to help hold them in so you can wash them. The poor bamfs cry and try their hardest to get out, but only when they're clean. You give them lots of kisses when they're done, so they feel better. The little dears eventually stop crying, but they pout and are grumpy.

You like to play with them, you go outside and play on the playgrounds with them, the bamfs love slides. They're also little spiders, crawling on every single thing they can.

"Careful!" you called, one bamf climbed on the very top of the castle and chirped victoriously. The bamf seemed so proud of itself, but like that instinct you had, the bamf slipped and slid off the castle top and down to the wooden pellets that covered the playground. It landed on its back and its little body rolled over, the force of the landing turned it onto its belly.

A soft hic and it started to cry. You rushed over, Kurt noticed and teleported beside the little bamf as it cried. Its tearful cheeks damp as it reached up to you. "Awe it's okay...I'm here baby..." you cooed, holding the darling bamf close. It was a little dirty, but otherwise okay. Nothing broken, "You're gonna have one hell of a knot on your head later, sweetheart."

The bamf cried and buried itself into you, the others were concerned and slowed their play as you comforted the hurt bamf. "He's okay, liebe...just a little hurt." Kurt reassured, but the bamf didn't want to be put down and you didn't want to let it go yet.

"I know, I know...just let me comfort him..." you whispered to Kurt, whom backed off and let you do your thing. "Shh, sh...it's alright, you slipped, that's all. You're okay, little one..." you reassured the bamf and gave it a little kiss on the head, your hand gently soothing the sore spot.

Playtime didn't last much longer, you all went inside to clean up once again, and it was dinner time. You cooked and hummed, the bamf who hurt itself didn't leave your side, crying and wanting to be held constantly. You of course held it, the poor thing kept itself buried against you. The darling had a wrap around its head where it fell and you held an ice pack to the spot when you weren't stirring dinner at the stove.

Kurt occupied the rest, they couldn't use sharp utensils, but they helped season things. When dinner was served, it was a typical mealtime, they ate happily with little complaint unless it came to brussel sprouts and broccoli. You cleaned up, and came to the den to relax for the evening and enjoy their company...and Kurt's of course.

The bamfs colored at the table, most of their drawings were messy and childlike. The injured bamf stayed close to you, laying in your lap with the ice on its head. The pitiful bamf was extremely attached to you, and would sometimes make cries to get your attention when it wanted more.

Kurt stayed close to you, sighing down at the little bamf. "He's really attached to you, schatz...all of them are. They might love you more than me," he chuckled lightly, kissing your temple. The comment and kiss made you smile lightly, your heart beating a little quicker.

"Ah well...I just try to care for them the best I can." Your thumb was gently rubbing the bamf's cheek, the little one had fallen asleep in your lap. "I think it's bedtime, the others are quite sleepy too."

The rest were slow and sluggish now, yawning and rubbing their eyes. Kurt agreed, leading them all up to your bedroom. "Alright little ones...let's get you in your jammies." you hummed, holding up little onsies you made for them. Putting clothes on them for the first time was hard, but over the months, they learned to adjust. It was like putting clothes on a cat, they acted funny at first but as you learned the sizes and where the clothes were pinching, you figured out how to make the clothes as comfortable as possible.

They all slept in bed with you, but they had their own little corner where there was a big nest they slept in too. However, you couldn't deny them if they wanted to sleep beside you, especially the hurt one. So after you changed and got ready for bed, you slipped in and they all piled in after you. The injured snuggling close, then the rest came around and settled.

Kurt was behind you, his tail wrapping around your leg. "Comfy?" he asks you softly, and you nod in return. You were exhausted. The day was long and you were ready for bed. You had a little family here, and you couldn't be happier with your life. Kurt and the bamfs were your everything, and you were theirs.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover images from Nightcrawler #5 (2014)

[yorsgirl]

Yan!Heian!Sukuna and with Y/N?

Lately, whenever Darling got pregnant she ended up having countless miscarriages, the longest lasting at least 3 months, Sukuna began to suspect these countless coincidences.

He doesn't care about these losses since he didn't want to share Y/N with some brat, but he found it very strange that every time she got pregnant resulted in a miscarriage, so he started investigating and finally found out why this was happening.

He discovered that Y/N was causing her own miscarriages, as she knew that the last thing the world needed was Sukuna's descendants, so he finally confronts her but with that damn psychological terror that he loves to do to her.

Oh my, I love love love this idea!!

I kinda went out on this one, but I hope I did justice to what you were aiming at. Hope you like it :) Also I am sorry for being so late

Playing God

Yandere!Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: It was a gamble, he was willing to make. To keep you with him, forever, as he wanted. Needed. You had to realize that no other heaven except his arms would be comforting. Even if that meant, breaking your very soul.

Tropes: Dark Romance, horror, angst

Warnings: Implied nsfw(forced), mentions of pregnancy, miscarriage, abduction, cannibalism and isolation. Trauma, mild stockholm syndrome, yandere themes, minor character death(s), gore, gaslighting, manipulation, misogyny, blood, degradation(non-kinky), patriarchal society, unhealthy relationship, implied child birth.

General warnings: Yandere!True form!Husband!Sukuna, Wife!Reader, Heian Era, both Sukuna and reader are a red flag on their own, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.

Word Count: 9.7k

You were digging your own grave.

So you shouldn't have been surprised that your wish would be granted. Yet, if you could have one wish then you'd wish for freedom but no- freedom was a forfeited dream, far beyond your reach. Consideration of that one would never be fruitful. You are trapped even in your dreams.

Playing with fire only gets you burnt.

For long, you played this game and this- this was your compensation. For everything you had done until now, all you are returned with was abandonment. Not that supposedly, betrayal, yes. More appropriate.

Flames surrounded you, crawling up your skin, the screams piercing your ears, your chest heaved up and down. Gaze, once settled on your hearth, now all you saw was the burning hut, the crackling of embers reached your ears. Attire and hands stained with blood of the insolent. The warning shouldn't have been taken lightly. Should have known, the extent of his power.

Eyes held terror, fright, regret- whatever you could name. The multitude of names you received seemed no more than a distant dream, nowhere to be found. All were running away - expectable.

You expected calamity, but you were calm.

Everything went down in flames. Save for you, you weren't burning. Not an spark touched your skin. Was it the distance or the control? Who knows. But one confirmation which you held was that tonight you won't die. Not so soon either.

Careful, not all Gods are worshipped.

The words rang in your ears and as if on cue, you found him again.

In this reverie of madness, he held your sight when you attempted to turn - the eyes tinted with crimson.

.

"I am sorry for your loss, m'lady."

You had seen it all.

You had your fair share of encounters, received news and such. Women losing their mind and sanity after delivered with a news this devastating. Notably, no woman would feel any bliss after knowing that they had lost their child. Lost the chance of motherhood before experiencing it. Violent outbursts was the most probable outcome.

"This is a hard time," The midwife spoke softly. "Yet, you shouldn't neglect your health."

You perceived the softness to be fear. She must have had dealt with situations like these, most of them traumatizing as you assumed. Perhaps, she expected the same from you too.

You tore your gaze off her, leaning back on your bedframe, "I'd like to be left alone."

Your declaration was answered with compliance. Offering a humble bow, she bid you farewell, walking out of your chambers. Once her footsteps seized, you finally let your guard down. Breathing out a sigh of relief, you laid back down on your bed.

"Good riddance," You muttered to yourself. Moments of such vulnerability wasn't rare, considering you were served with loneliness, lately. Save for the times you spent in the presence of Sukuna. His decree, one might say. Your attention shouldn't be wasted on anyone but him. You scoffed recalling his words. Involuntarily, you stroked your belly, the corner of your lip curled up.

Once a house to life, given by your husband; now lay vacant from your doing.

A twisted sense of pride swelled up in your chest, a wide grin stretching on your face. You were successful in your quest, again. Mercilessly, you uprooted the seed of your husband's lineage.

Perhaps, you've truly gone sick.

Yet, this revolt of feelings were miles lesser than the repugnant you encountered when you realized your first pregnancy. You were on the brink of clawing out the creature growing in your womb. You'd have torn it apart with while revelling in the joy of watching its blood drip down on the face of Earth. If not for Sukuna's presence in the room, you might've gone through it.

You lost a fragment of yourself, that day.

Throwing up countless times, dizziness, nausea, even losing your consciousness while walking down. No, they weren't pregnancy side effects. More so, the outcome of the stress accumulating in you.

Sickening. His kin you'd have cradled in your body. To be born and grow up into a revolting, merciless creature like his father. To take up place in your womb, your flesh and blood and combining with his – a living proof of your plight. Disgusting.

Never. You'd never let that happen.

You'd never succumb to such monstrosity.

You had already given up your freedom, your dignity, your alight life to Sukuna in exchange of the lives you held dear. The lives back in your ancestral village, home to your kin.

You were affirmed. An heir of Ryomen Sukuna would never be birthed from you.

Speak of the devil, he appears.

An overwhelming familiar aura surrounded your very being, the doors to your chamber slid open, your captor, your husband strolled inside. Even his mere presence held the malevolence in him. You attempted to rise from your position at his arrival.

"Sit." He commanded.

You silently obeyed his order, keeping your gaze settled on your lap, the energy had your stomach churning with trepidation; at times when you didn't do anything either. And this time, you were guilty. Two moments passed in silence until he spoke.

"I heard from the midwife."

You took in a sharp breath, swallowing a lump in your throat. It was the same ordeal, like the first two times. Yet, you were a tad bit calm since the previous encounters. Probably, due to the fact you were getting used to this role. In this past moons, you had developed into the wife, he was carving you out to be. Giving him just the reactions he wanted, for that saved you a lot of anguish and pain. Even if it came at the price of your self-respect. This was the only way.

With your head hung low, you spoke, "Forgive me, my lord. I am incapable of bearing you an heir. I-It must have been my fau-"

"Not another word."

You instantly stiffened up, his deep voice causing chills to run down your spine. Did you make an error? Was he aware of your tumultuous acts? Was the play not convincing enough?

He held your chin, forcing you to look up at him. All of his four, red eyes bore into you. You bit on your inner cheek, blood coursing in your veins - steadfast.

They say, your fear start to vanish once you've remained in the source of their vicinity too long. That statement is false. For even after staying with your captor for almost two years, you still held your fear.

"The one at fault bore consequences."

That's when you were hit with the faint stench of blood from him. Another one perished. You took the wild guess of it being the midwife. However, instead of amplifying fright, it was lessened. You wouldn't be on the receiving end of his wrath.

"You aren't at fault, wife."

Oh, but you were.

Sukuna held your gaze, cupping your cheek; the rough pad of his thumb trailed a line on your skin. His tone and grip were surprisingly gentle. "There's no need to apologize."

The corners of your eyes crinkled down, you lean into his touch. You assume, it's a good move as you noted the flicker of emotion in his eyes. "It's the third time, my lord. Perhaps, I bear some shortcomings."

"What nonsense," He rolled his eyes. "There's none, not in my eyes. Don't fill your head with such fickle thoughts." He paused for a moment before continuing, "Is that understood?"

He wasn't one for affirmations but maybe- just maybe it was his attempt at comfort, you supposed. The previous losses must had him learning, the threads of condolence. Still, for you, they'd never mean anything less than empty words. The last thing you wanted was to be comforted by your tormentor. You'd rather step into hell willingly.

But you were living under his wing. You have to play according to his whims. You nodded. "Yes, my lord."

His hand left your face, dropping to his thigh. He looked at you, as if sizing you up. You had to keep yourself from making any unnecessary movements. Sukuna wanted you composed, whatever the situation. (Except the times when he bedded you, you were allowed to scream, cry and thrash around then. Cause you were trapped under his immense strength, struggles were futile).

After a while, he asked, "Any wishes?"

You chewed on your bottom lip, eyes flickering down then back to him. You let out a breath, before continuing. "May I visit the shrine... this evening?"

Silence.

You were contemplating whether you had offended him, somehow. Previously, he did allow for your little trips, you wondered if his patience was running thin cause of your repeated incapability of bearing him an heir. Maybe, you ran out of luck.

You were about to mutter an apology but then a smug grin spread across his lips, "Why so?" He asked.

"To-" You swallowed a lump, preparing to answer the practiced dialogue. "To offer prayers for–"

"Why grieve for someone who didn't even take form?" He cut you up, raising an eyebrow. For a tad moment, he sounded curious. It broke into a cruel chuckle, "You humans would make a funeral out of anything, yes?"

If you held an ounce of sympathy then you wouldn't question.

You wanted to say but you knew better. Besides, you still have to keep up the act of being his loyal wife. Heaving a out a deep breath, you replied, "I suppose." You paused, running the tip of your tongue over your lip.

"I'd pray that I can bear you an heir the next time, my lord."

Nay, more so: I'd pray that you receive your end soon, my lord.

Sukuna watched you. No, not look. He watched, like a predator. Then, his lips cracked into a sinister grin. "You've a way with your words, wife."

It caught you off guard. You raised an eyebrow, attempting to voice out your confusion. "What do-"

"I will accompany you."

.

"Sukuna sama, the herbalist you asked for, has arrived."

Sukuna spared a glance at Uraume, who knelt by his feet.

"Bring him."

As on cue, they rose up from their stance, pivoting around towards the door. It parted, two curses had a man in their grasp as he struggled to break free. His eyes widening with terror when it fell on the King, sitting atop his throne.

The man was pushed down to his knees, face meeting the floor in a loud slam. His scuffles were in vain against such power, he knew that. Still, in a situation of life and death, rationality takes it's leave.

Sukuna clicked his tongue in annoyance. All he wanted was some herbalist to answer the flurry of questions in his which had him restless for the past few days. Did this scum think he'd be killed? Maybe he would be, if he deems it necessary or he proves to be useless.

What had him restless was your miscarriages. Counting the most recent would make it a fourth. Where did he go wrong? You were kept in utmost luxury, no toils whatsoever. Still, what was wrong?

—》《—

"Perhaps, there's some faults in her highness."

"Keep your voice down, Mira. Someone may hear you."

"I am a lot quite... but tell me, don't you find it strange? How come she has lost all of her children?"

"I- I suppose. Perhaps, motherhood is not written in her fate."

"Or so, she's simply incapable."

—》《—

Safe to say, those were the last words they uttered before they were turned into a mash of flesh and blood.

Sliced into pieces that even trying to make a proper corpse out of the remnants weren't possible.

At times, Sukuna wished he held the power to bring back someone to life. Then maybe, he'd have given those servants a death, more worthy. Maybe, ripping out their limbs, piece by piece. First the bones would break, ripped from the ligaments, then it'd be the muscles; that was easy to just tear out. And after that happened, he could have just sewn up the blobs of flesh again and repeat the process until they learn their lesson or the life leaves them again.

He deduced the latter would be more probable. Still, it would be fine. They deserved that.

Speaking ill of you in his palace, in his vicinity, in his world was prohibited. A sin, in the words of humans. And a sin never goes unpunished.

You - his consort, his queen, you were heavenly. There isn't a fault in you, it's some external factor, must be. But he can't let go of his growing suspicion either.

Sukuna detested children, it was a known fact. Always ending their lives first, whenever he set foot in a village. They were of no use to him, unless they were served to him on his platter. He couldn't deny, their flesh was flavourful.

Even though, he held great disdain for them, he couldn't help but desire a kinship with you. With the price of letting go of your undivided attention? Hmm, doesn't sound too great. He assumed, he can hire a wet nurse just in case. Still, he desired to see you round with his child, feet swollen as you struggled to walk around. You do not have to worry, he, your husband would joyfully oblige in carrying you in his arms. You were more than perfect, he couldn't even imagine just how beautiful you'll look, during and after carrying your child.

It was destined. You'd extend his lineage or no one else.

You were flawless then why were you causing such errors? Contradicting. It was his question until he started to take a note in your behaviour, and he found–

Sukuna stood up from his throne, walking down the steps of bones, presumably of the ones he killed. They act as a pretty show piece, according to him.

The court resonated with his footsteps, each one carrying a promise of death. The man's struggles seized once he was harshly pulled up by his hair, his eyes met with Sukuna's.

"Yo-your high–ness," The man fumbled with his words, a spine chilling sensation going down his frame.

"Time's wasting," Sukuna said, his glare pointed. The fury evident, though his exterior was calm. "Comply if you don't wish death."

The man nodded frequently, his fingertips trembled with anticipation and horror. "Ye-yes, your highness. It's an honour to s-serve you." The man fell to his feet as he was dropped. Sukuna dismissed the extra company with a wave of his hand.

"Rise," He declared.

The man still on his knees, raises his head. "What can I- I do for you, your highness?"

—》《—

"May I make a request, my lord?"

Sukuna's eyes flickered to you, yours not meeting his. Knelt before him, you gracefully poured the sake in his ochoko.

"Speak."

He marked the squinting in your irises, fingertips trembled when you put the vessel down. Your shoulders rose and fell before you gazed at him, reluctantly. He couldn't help but find your antics inhumanely amusing. 

"Would you be kind enough... to bring me this-" You paused for a fleeting moment. "This herb called... aloe vera?"

—》《—

"Aloe vera," Sukuna tilted his head aside, the upper pair of arms crossed over his chest. "What use does it have?"

"We-well, my lord it's used for heal-healing purposes, burns, cuts, rashes... it heals injuries, yes." He answered, taking a gulp. There was other uses too yet his head was alike a blank canvas, before such a formidable strength. He wasn't even aware if it was satisfactory or why the King of Curses needed to know about such a measly plant. But if it meant he could see the sun for another day then he'll just give whatever he could offer. "I-It can also be used to– to make me-medicated food. N-not a delicacy... I might add."

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, "That's it?"

"N-no, my lord. There- it can cure diges-"

"In pregnancy."

The man stiffened, his mouth parting a tad bit. A whisper leaving his lips, "Yo-your highness...?"

Pregnancy, menstruation, considered taboo. A matter regarding women, spoken in the inner chambers, the men should remain ignorant. A topic whispered in ears not spoken aloud in any hall, let alone the royal court. Certainly, Sukuna was aware of this societal construct, yet he didn't care. The society and its idiotic rules could go to hell. He just needed answers.

"Speak," Sukuna's voice was louder, deeper when the man before him fidgeted in his spot due to discomfort - on speaking such a topic.

"It-Its a... your highness, I d-don't think you-"

"Insolent bastard," His fumbling was interrupted by Sukuna. The warning evident in his profanity. His face grew darker, the four irises glowing with impending danger akin Satan himself. "If you so much as want to live, fucking speak."

The man's blood ran cold as on cue, face turning a shade paler as if winter had started to pool in. Tears prickled the corners of his eyes, "Forgive me, your highness! I will speak, I will- yes- aloe vera its-" He heaved out a deep breath, an attempt to slow down his beating heart. "Any fo-form of it is ill-suited during pregnancy... it can cause... cause pe-pelvic haemorrhage leading to... to  misc-"

"Miscarriage?"

"Yes, miscarriage... can lead to miscarriage, your highness."

A profound silence prevailed. Not a soul spoke neither was a footstep heard. Not a leaf rustled or the howling winds tapped on the window pane - assumed, mother nature had halted its elements from making any noise.

The stakes were high yet an flicker of courage alighted in the man as he raised his head up to glance at Sukuna, "My lor-"

The man's head tumbled down before he could even complete.

He couldn't scream, he couldn't beg, he couldn't apologize, he couldn't even blink. All he could do was watch. Watch as his beheaded body fell limp before his eyes. Watch as the blood poured out like waterfalls staining the carpet with its hues. The red marred bones protruded out amidst the flesh, globs of blood was gushing out of his severed voice box. His body jerked, the remnants of conscious nerves trying to survive.

It was a neat cut. A heavenly sight.

The world started to blur in. And before he knew it, the light was gone from his eyes.

Sukuna didn't even spare a glance as he marched out of his court.

Uraume approached the body, a few maids accompanying them. They casted a disapproving glare at the corpse.

"Not edible, dispose of it."

.

You didn't see or hear from Sukuna for a week.

He didn't visit your chambers at night neither was he present when you sat down for your meals. Even his energy was alike a hushed whisper which would remind you of his presence in the residence, but not reveal himself to you. For some reason, it had you in an unease.

No, you certainly did not miss his presence. But his absence just made the surroundings almost suffocating. There was the looming threat that something had happened or something were to happen. One worse than the other.

Silence was never uneventful.

Insinuating the courage, you had once inquired Uraume about his absence. Presenting a polite bow, they answered, "Sukuna sama doesn't want to be disturbed."

Disturbed... as if he wasn't the cause of all disturbances. A natural disaster in himself. You resisted the urge to scoff and uttered a meek line of gratitude before going about your day. (That extended with you strolling down the halls or garden or just be in your chambers and read the few books Sukuna had bought you).

On the very same day the dark commenced. While you were mesmerized by the fall of twilight over the garden, you heard his voice.

"Don't you love playing with poison, wife?"

The sudden question made you halt your steps, you weren't even aware that he was present–shielded his aura, presumably. You turned around, raising an eyebrow with bewilderment.

"Pardon, my lord?"

Sukuna snorted, walking up to you, a smirk played on his lips. You had to make the effort of tilting your head to gaze up at him. His towering figure loomed over you, his lower left hand snaking around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"You love poisons, don't you? Or in your words herbs."

Your shoulders grew rigid, eyes widening with realization, a sharp breath hitting your throat. Your fingertips trembled with anticipation. You were sure to be discreet in your affairs, using the isolation he subjected you to at its best. Yet he knew. It was bad. Very much so. And what were to happen now? What would he do to you?

Another night of horror where your screams would be unheard, your resistance proved to be futile, where you'd be left to suffer alone, where another shard of your remaining soul would be plunged by him. Another night where you'd again play into his whims... Or something more vile, leaving you physically disabled? Perhaps, even death...

The foremost was the most heinous one. You silently prayed that he wouldn't resort to that. If you were to be subjected to his torment then you wished he'd just kill you, liberating you for once and for all. Even so, survival is what the mind wants. Piecing through any tactic just to live another day. The play for now should be denial.

Sukuna's affections for you worked as a double edged sword. You aimed to take advantage of it, in every way possible. You instilled a bit of courage, standing your ground, you spoke "I don't understand what you're trying to instigate, my lord."

He looked down on you, a coy smile uplifting his lips. He threaded his fingers through the knot of your kimono, leaning down next to your ear, he inhaled your scent. His lips brushing over your neck.

"I do not believe so, wife." He murmured, his warm breath hitting your skin, a range of goosebumps rising over your arm. "In fact, I think you clearly know, what I speak about."

Before you could let a word out, he straightened up, turning around, he pushed you to walk with him. His large hand still covering your back.

"Come, let me entertain you."

.

You were walking to the gallows.

Not literally, but you were sure your end was near.

The wooden floors creaked with footfalls. Each step heavier than the previous. You hesitantly glimpsed at Sukuna, his gaze was far ahead. Not a word left his mouth in this while. Only his hold remained firm. He pushed you forward every moment your step faltered.

Your breath hitched when you turned a corner - the right wing. A rule, you could say. Sukuna made it clear since the day he held you captive brought you home – never step a foot in the right wing. Despair drowned your curiosity that time, you didn't question, least bothered to. Even later, you didn't dare to defy him; courtesy to the pain you were subjected to once.

Still, you could make the wild guess of what happened in there. The muffled screams kept you awake at midnight, it was easy to put the puzzle pieces together. There he revelled with the sick pleasure of tormenting your kind.

He stopped before a pair of oak doors. That's when he glanced at you, for the first time in a long while. For a moment, he stared at you with an emotion you couldn't decipher. The next moment, he pulled out the Kanzashi from your hair, letting your strands tousle down.

You flinched, pushing away the curls which clouded your vision. Sukuna held the pin in his hand, holding your gaze. He was unmoving.

What happened to him?

"My lord," You called. "What are you-"

"Stay quiet," He handed you the kanzashi back, adjusting your hand to hold it as if it were a dagger. Turning to the door, he spared you a glance. "Don't speak a word." With that, the doors opened.

Dark.

It was dark save for the light of the lantern which illuminated the room. He shoved you forward, the door locking behind as he stood aside you.

"One bite."

Huh? Bite? What did he mean? You slightly turned your head towards him but you were stopped in your tracks. It wasn't only you and Sukuna in this room, seems you had a guest. More appropriate word? A Captive.

Your eyes were wide open. On the corner of the room, sat a young boy, not more than a adolescent - blindfolded. Restrained by chains, his wrists and ankles were cuffed with metal. A small whimper left his lips as he registered the presence of both of you.

You were about to speak but then his words rang in your mind.

Don't speak a word.

Sukuna gripped your wrist, leading you to the boy, "One bite, in the arm."

He wasn't talking to you. To the boy, he kept his eyes. You marked how the boy flinched. The metals clanking on contact.

He turned to you then, motioning to the pin in your hand then the boy's arm. Realization hit you. You tried to shake your head, refuse; but one glare of his and you were compelled. Reluctantly, you turned around, trudging to the boy.

Something was wrong.

You could feel it. Why... why would he want you to stab this poor boy? A picture of misery, he was. You noted he didn't have any sign of bruises in his body - peculiar. Yet, his fragile state was enough to give you a hint that he had been here for days. Perhaps, starved too. The tension was high and all you wanted was to leave this room, in an instant.

Fine, if Sukuna wanted you to just stab the boy. You'd do it. Missing the vital points which could end his life. One, he said. You'll miss the point and done. Its not upon you that you'd pierce the wrong place. His instructions weren't specific—that'd be your excuse.

He won't die. Not from your hands.

You gently held the boy's arm, angling the pointers on the muscles. You drove it in.

Miscalculation.

The boy's body instantly stiffened, a gut wrenching scream erupted from his mouth. He thrashed around, swinging his legs and arms, his body twitching violently.

You recoiled back soon, yanking out the pin, stepping away on instinct. You watched with terror.

Foam rose up the boy's mouth, his shrieks pierced your eardrums. The fluid dripped down his jaw, marring his clothes. He clutched the area where you stabbed him. Scratching at it with all his might. The sound of flesh ripping filled your ears as the boy ruthlessly, tore the muscles.

You were stunted. You couldn't speak or move. You weren't chained but you felt as if a thousand shackles bore you down.

The next seconds were a blur. The screams started to die down, his body losing it's color. Sooner than you could grasp, did the room turn silent again.

The boy was dead.

.

"Enjoyed the show, wife?"

You slapped your hand over your mouth, stumbling a few steps back. You couldn't tear your eyes off the young boy, bile rose up your throat as the room started to spin.

"Wh-what did you-"

No- you couldn't throw up, whatever second thought it was, it refrained you from crumbling to your knees and make a mess. Shivers went down your spine, you struggled to stand straight. The stench of the corpse and the expunging liquids started to fill your nostrils. You were almost on the verge to lose consciousness.

"What... did you do?"

Your eyes flickered to Sukuna. He stood tall, not a sign of emotion on his mien. You regret ever considering mirth to the worst feature on him, cause none was more terrifying.

And he was watching you.

It reminded you of the time, you first saw him -  covered with blood of the lives he had taken, down the river bank. Victim of naivety and ignorance, you didn't know any better than to not let him see you. Wandering towards the peculiar beast, even when a gut wrenching terror asked you to run; you were stubborn. You had asked - are you alright?

"What did you do?" You repeated again.

Tilting his head, he kept his unwavering gaze fixed on you. "As a matter of fact, I didn't do anything, wife." He paused, letting the horror shadow your features, "It was all you."

You needed to run.

The kanzashi– which was till then clasped in your hand firmly– fell down. A clank, you heard.

One step.

One step towards the door. He is standing afore you, the fingers of his upper right arm ran through your open hair, tangling in the roots, he yanked your head back.

"I don't remember, giving you the permission to leave."

Tears prickled your eyes as you tried to break free. Sukuna was having none of it. He dragged you by your hair towards the corpse of the boy. Your nails jabbed into his wrist while whimpers of anguish left your mouth.

Sukuna shoved you down to your knees, tugging your hair back - you were sure, they will be ripped off if he yanked with any more pressure - he made you glance at its face. He crouched beside you. With a flick of his finger, he ripped the blindfold out of the boy.

"Dare to shut your eyes."

Compliance had become second nature.

The body was rigid, skin turning blue. The veins on his arms were bulged out, his mouth wide open, filled with foam, trickling down his cheek, drying on it.

The sight caused you to gag.

Horrifying. His bloodshot eyes were wide open, protruding out of the sockets. Irises dilated in shape, which you considered humanly impossible. But what had your heart hammering in your chest wasn't the vivid details you saw on the corpse. It was the fact, that you recognized the boy. Son of that distant elder cousin, you'd seen once or twice in a year.

"Look at that, love." Sukuna cooed in your ear, forcing you to face the corpse.

You shook your head violently, nails dug into his wrist - desperate to escape. Your heart thumped inside your ribcage, you could hear it in your ears, your guts twisted in numerous ways as sweatbeads trailed down your forehead.

"You did that."

No. No, you didn't. You didn't do it. It wasn't you.

"You killed him."

No, you didn't... he didn't die because of you.

"Take a good look. See what you've done."

You vigorously shook your head. Denying all of his claims cause... cause they were... false, yes, false. They were false.

"No," You stated once you found your voice. "N-no, no... I- no."

Sukuna hummed, twisting a knot in your hair, "Yes, you. You did it."

No. You were innocent. You weren't to be blamed. It wasn't you.

It was... him.

"No, no, I didn't," You refused again, standing your ground. Moving your eyes towards him, you gritted your teeth. "No, I didn't do it. I didn't do anything. It was you."

"Really? How so?"

Fire burnt in your eyes. It was enough. He couldn't make you believe which you didn't commit - you didn't kill him.

"Poison," You said with conviction lacing your tone. "He was poisoned, a stab wouldn't procure such a reaction."

"Observant as ever," He mused, quirking up an eyebrow. A faint smile curled up on his lips. "Still, it doesn't gratify the fact that you were the one to end his life."

Blood boiled inside you, surging through your veins like lava. He had no right to accuse you of something. You didn't kill him, he couldn't make you believe it, whatsoever may happen.

"I may have stabbed him with the kanzashi, but that didn't have any trace of poison in it. I am-"

"Sure of it?"

You could only glare at him. He was toying with you. Tugging the strings of your conscience but you won't have any of it. "I am," You confirmed, staring at him without any falters. "I held it... you held it. If it was really drenched with toxicant as lethal as that, we- we both would be dead."

His grip loosened from your hair, hand falling down. The corners of his eyes crinkled, the smile turning into a smirk.

"It was you," You continued. "You did something to him at first and-"

Sukuna broke into a chortle of laughter. Far from jovial, more so sinister, filled with sheer malevolence. He gripped your jaw, pulling you closer to himself. His sharp canines glinted in the dim light.

"You just keep on fascinating me, wife."

Each second with him was revolting. Just his touch alone had your skin crawling. Yet, you couldn't let him know he has the upper hand.

"We had a pact," You stated firmly. His game was disgusting. What was he trying to do? What was his goal? "If I stay with you, you wouldn't lay a finger on my family, then- h-how could-"

"I would still stand on the ground, that I didn't do anything." He replied, a hint of amusement in his tone. "It was all you, wife. I can assure you that I didn't go back in my words." His canines glinted while he smiled. "Not a flick of pain. Save for..." He paused, his eyes widening, the carmine irises glowed in the dark. "Save for telling him, he'd be killed by a snake bite."

"There was no venom on my pin."

"Know so," He confirmed, a playful smirk on his visage. You wished you could read minds, if possible only of him, that'd been enough. Then where did poison come from? You wanted to question but he beat you to it.

"His fear turned into poison."

You blinked. Once. Twice. You knew he had an urge to play mind games but this was ridiculous. You questioned, shell-shocked, "What?"

"He let his fear get the better of him, assuming your pin to be a snake. He believed it." He explained while you listened without so much as a word. "His conscience caused his body to give out the exact reactions, he imagined. A shock, you might say. That caused his death."

His game was disgusting. If he thought, he could just give you any excuse as this and let you believe his accusations then he was mad wrong. You gritted your teeth, yanking your face away from his grip. For a second, you saw all of his eyes opening wide with surprise. But that didn't extinguish the fire burning in you.

He reached out, dragging you towards him via the arm. A glare resting on his face. "What did I tell about refusi-"

"I don't believe you," You cut him off, hands clenched into fists. It was the first time in a long time, you lost your composure in front of him. No, you wouldn't play as his doll anymore. He broke his promise, its only fair that you do so. "I don't believe a single word you say. You- you did something, you must have. Fear, belief, whatever the fuck, something as trivial as that-"

"So you think fear is trivial, wife?" He sighed, his clutch in your arm remained firm. The rough callouses of his palm, rubbed over your skin. "And here I thought, you might be different than the rest. But you managed to drop below my expectations."

"Maybe that's what I love about you, darling." He continued.

Disgust arose in you yet again. Love. As if he had any of that. He wasn't capable of love. Not in this lifetime. Never. 

He spoke again, "Times you are the smartest I have seen, then you speak such blasphemy which would even embarrass the Gods you worship. Your silence was awarded by him leaning near your ear. He twisted a curl of your hair between his fingers. "Fear, wife..." He whispered to you. "Fear is a mind killer. It makes you believe anything. The small drop of poison which contaminates all the water."

"In the end, belief and fear are sides of the same coin," His top two eyes, flickered to the corpse of the boy. "I made him consume the poison of fear and you-" He turned to you again. "You made him believe it... so, in a way, yes. Yes, I did do something. Save for the part of ending his life. Though I didn't break my part of our pact." A smirk tugged on his lips. "You were the one who killed him. Isn't that great?"

Your breath hitched, throat gone dry. You gazed at him, eyes wide open. Your mind was a blank canvas.

Fear, poison, belief, killing...

He made you kill someone. An innocent boy who didn't even do anything.

Why won't he much rather just end your life?

Sukuna pulled away from you, standing up, he walked over to the lantern placed in the room. The stench of the rotting corpse had long ago started to pool in.

"You made me kill him." You whispered, still knelt, staring at the floor. When greeted with silence, you questioned again, a tone higher, "You made me kill him."

"And?"

His nonchalance had always been infuriating to you.

You could feel him standing a few steps behind you. "If you really wanted to kill my kin, you should've just told me. Getting your herbs was a tiring chore." You didn't miss the emphasis he put on, herbs. The roll of his eyes while speaking floated before your eyes even though you couldn't see him; the expression must had turned to a smirk later. "However, the taste of taking a life– isn't it delicious, wife?"

Guilt gnawed at you, tearing you internally. Your shoulders trembled as you let out ragged breaths, eyes fixed on the bloodied arm of the boy. The same arm where the kanzashi pierced, the muscles torn apart, blood drying on it due to the boy's onslaught. Nausea overrode your senses, bile rose up your throat and the next moment you were throwing up. The wastes ran down your mouth, your nails dug into the wooded boards – bruising your fingertips and chipping the nails. You didn't realize Sukuna stepping up to your side, pulling your hair back while you were caught into the ordeal.

A disapproving grunt left his mouth after you were finished, yanking you up with your wrist. He pulled you towards the door. "Com-"

"No." Your heels remained firm on the ground. You refused him before you could even think. He turned towards you slightly, a scowl resting on his features before he pivoted around. He cast a glare upon you but before he could speak, your mouth opened again.

"You're even lower than scum." Your jaw ticked, hands clenching into fists. "You made me kill an innocent boy. Someone who might have done nothing to you, You– You disgust me, Sukuna."

Done you were with the respect, he demanded. If that angered him, made him want to rip out your heart and watch the life drain from your eyes. He was most welcome.

But it looks like, he wasn't resorting to any of that.

"You made me a murderer." You urged, staying strong in your stance. "You turned me into you."

His eyebrow twitched, a wave of mirth washed over him. "You were always like me, wife."

"I am nothing-"

"You are. You are like me. You are no saint, as you think so of yourself. " He said, leaving no room for argument. His lips pressed tight into a thin line. 

Yet, you refused to believe that. You were nothing like him. Couldn't even dream so. You were not him.

"You kill children in your womb, I kill them after they're born. How is it so different?"

"It is different." You yelled, your jaw clenched, teeth baring out. "This world needs no more of your lineage, it needs no more of you." You jabbed your pointer finger on his chest, tears pooling into your eyes. You refused to shed them. "You kill for your own sake, I do not."

"Then who do you kill for?"

"For everyone." The faint snort of his reached your ears. You couldn't decipher what he found so delightful in this.

"Playing God, are we?" He mocked causing your vexation to rise.

"Maybe I am. For the least, I am not killing innocent people like you."

From where such defiance arose, you weren't sure of. Perhaps, all the frustration, fright, terror which accumulated till now had reached its limit. Moreover, Sukuna's provocation must be the fuel to the fire.

You might be left bleeding– No, you would be left bleeding. You welcomed it with open arms.

.

"Careful," Sukuna pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. "All Gods aren't worshipped."

He was enjoying himself. In all honesty, your obedience was getting too monotonous. This was better. Your defiance was amusing. Arousing, if there's to add. If he knew, letting you end a few lives would have this effect then he would have resorted to this long ago.

"Better than you." You shoved his hand away, "You are nothing more than a wretched, two-faced curse destroying all of our lives."

He noted your scowl, the way your lips were shut tight, your eyebrows crinkled together. Reasons evident, all he desired was to pull you into his arms smash his lips against yours. Taste the very essence of your being. Consume you wholly, just the way you are. So that in the end, your name, your taste, your scent would be engraved in his very soul. Without your mention, he wouldn't be complete. 

But he refrained from giving in now. His desire extended to a far more sinister route. "I wonder..."

What would it be like to break your conviction? What would it be like to break you?

Oh, he knew.

Would it be right moment to let you know? Maybe he should wait for another, more appropriate time.

Hmm, perhaps he should. But no.

He let you play these games for too long. Tired of this game plan, he was. Maybe, you would just come to your senses if he let you know. So he let the words, flow out:

"I wonder, why this curse keeps protecting your pathetic life from people who would cross rivers to lay siege to your life?"

Worth everything.

Sukuna watched as your face lost its color. The previous boldness you presented him with was replaced by a mask of confusion and. Such a pretty sight, it was. To see you, falter from your stand. Second guess, yourself, be in denial then rage consumes you. And you look at him, like he was the forbearer of your misery. (He is).

Oh, how good he has you memorized.

Even the littlest of reactions you contort on your mien, on your mannerisms; everything has him intrigued. You have him intoxicated.

"You know the ones, the people... your people, for whom you play this God."

Sukuna wished he could capture this moment. He'd have the chance to take a glimpse of it again, whenever he wished to. The horrified look on your face as the weight of his words started to sink in.

Would you still look like this if he tells you the terror he bestowed on them who tried to steal you away from him? What would you say if he vividly describes each imagery of how he slowly, agonizingly burnt them, severed them and tormented them? Leaving them nothing but fragments beyond recognition.

You were his. All of you belonged to him. Without his sanction, no one could even see you, let alone touch you. Ah- just how many sorcerers perished from his hands, the number of villages, bathed in blood; save for yours. (Courtesy to that stupid pact, he forged with you)

Something had told him, that there'd be a better time to put an end to the pitiful lives of your kin.

"Can't speak? What caused so, darling?" His tone was laced with smugness, a twisted joy elicited in him. "Fearful that your play amounted to nothing?"

Your jaw ticked with anger. You were furious. "I don't believe you. You are lying."

Your trust on humans was commendable, he'd give you that. However, there's stark contrast between faith and blind belief. You were inclining towards the latter.

So, what do they do when words fail to convey message? Oh right, you give them a prime example.

"Let me just show it to you then, wife."

It was a gamble, he was willing to make. To keep you with him, forever, as he wanted - he needed you to know that no place other than his arms would be as comforting. Even if that meant breaking your very soul, so be it.

.

You were home.

One moment, Sukuna held your gaze. The next, you are standing before your hearth.

Toes dipping into the familiar black soil, the land where you ran and played during your childhood. Your familial home stood steps away from you. Still looked the same except the visible cracks on the wall, a layer of dust on top of the door and the woods looked worn out. However, what caught your eyes weren't the flaws of your home but the familiar older woman walking into your home.

"Mother…"

She stilled all of a sudden, rotating on her heels, her eyes landed on you. Shell shocked, that's what she was with the widened eyes and parted lips. A small smile curved up on your lips, she still looked the same except the few grey hairs and wrinkles aside her eyes.

"Mother," You called again, taking a step towards her. "I am back."

Sooner than you expected, her eyebrows scrunched up, mouth curving down when she finally registered your presence. You weren't some illusion or her mind playing tricks. "What are you here for?"

The disdainful tone caused you to flinch. You didn't expect this. Returning home, you dreamt of it to be filled with tears of joy and warm embraces. Not this… whatever, she was presenting you with. But- But its fine, you have returned after a two whole years. She must have been worried. The reason of her apprehension. God, you had a lot making up to do.

"Well, you know," You chuckled lightly, scratching the back of your neck. "Back… just back. I have returned."

"Found your way after two years?" She crossed her arms over her chest, staring at you with a look you didn't want to recognize.

You nodded, "Yes. How could I forget my way? Our address, its-"

You were interrupted when your name was spit out from her mouth. Her glare on you was palpable, "I know what it is. What are you here for?"

Her fury even made your skin crawl with fear. You were often on the receiving end of her glare when you were a child, given by your tendencies to run around and cause trouble for others. Yet, those glares, were none like this. This- this- you didn't want to name what it was.

"You are angry," You don't know if its directed towards your mother or yourself as you hold onto the last bit of fragments that not all is lost. "I get it, I really do." You stood on your toes, attempting to look behind her, into your house. "Where's father? Tell him, I am-"

"No more."

As if the air was knocked out of your lungs.

"What?" Your neck craned towards her so fast, it might have left a sprain. Yet, that was the least of your concern. "What do you mean by no more?"

"No more means no more." Your mother's sigh fell heavy on the air, words carried the weight of the world. Laid with pain underneath.

"How- when? Wha-what happened?" You couldn't wrap your mind around the new discovery. No one told you such. Who could've guessed? Such an ordeal to occur in your absence. And what might she be going through, without you. You didn't even get the chance to talk to him, one last time.

"A year ago," She confessed, her voice conveyed her lament and sorrow. Her words felt like a hammered blow on the fragile façade of hope, you had intricately crafted for yourself. However, she wasn't done. Her eyes held scorn, lips curled up to a sneer. "Aren't you satisfied? You finally made your mark. Must tell you," Her voice, once filled with love held nothing save for contempt, directed at you. "Good game, you played, dear." She spit the endearment as if, it were poison.

"No, I- I never wanted any of this. What are you even talking about?" A trembling footfall towards her, you whispered, "M-mother-"

"Don't you dare call me that."

The weight of her judgement felt heavy on you, pressing down, suffocating you alike chains.

"You are no daughter of mine."

You weren't aware since when the tears had sprang up your eyes, breaking the barricades, they shed down. Your throat burnt as you struggled to even breathe, clutching your chest - a searing pain shooting in your heart. Your heart was shattering from the ultimate rejection from your own flesh and blood.

"While you're at it, know this." Your mother continued.

The next words were like a blow to the gut, each syllable lined with the weight of revelations. Ones that hung in the air like a funeral shroud.

"In his last moments, his only regret was bringing a daughter like you in this world."

.

This night just doesn't seem to end, does it?

You were left as a hollow shell. Tethering the steps away from the home you were no more welcomed. Exhaustion reigned heavy on you. Physically and mentally.

Where were you going? You didn't know. Just where your feet would take you, there would you go. Perhaps, you can return to Sukuna. Would he take you back? Most probably not. Considering, your earlier outburst, adding to the fact that you refused to give him what you want; he might just discard you as you proved to be useless.

Funny. It was so damn funny. Once, you wished to escape from his hands whatsoever the price yet now… now you considered returning to him.

You could hear him calling you pathetic. Disgusting. More disgusting, that you agreed with him.

You were truly pathetic.

But before you could spiral down the void of self-hatred, a voice- nah, multiple voices startled you.

"There she is, parading around some meek, innocent girl." A scoff is added. "You are far from it."

"The nerve of you to just walk back into our lives after you betrayed us."

Your neck cranes to your left, an old man - the village elder with a few other men and women following behind; they approached you. "Excuse me?"

"Who do you think you are?" A woman's cry reached your ears. "Returning after you turned your back on us."

You flinched at the accusation thrown. What could be possibly be instigating? To all your knowledge, you were walking in this- in your village after two long years. Anger, disdain and accusatory glares clouded their features. If your mother's insults weren't enough to pierce through your heart then it certainly did now, with all the people, you once called your own to look at you like you were the monster.

You summoned the least bit of courage you had, squared your shoulders and started, "I'd have you know-"

"Traitors don't get to speak." At the center of the crowd was the village elder. He was the pillars of your hamlet, revered for his wisdom and guidance, but now he looked akin a judge ready to deliver his sentence upon you. A sentence which would push you more into this conundrum. "You've been cavorting to that monster. Disgusting."

"I am no traitor." You retorted soon. "You can't accuse me of such when you don't ev-"

"Save it for someone who would care, whore."

The curse had your mouth parted in disbelief, horror etched upon your mien. Sooner than you could compose yourself, did whispers of agreement rippled through the crowd which branded you as a traitor.

"You are just as twisted as him."

"Get out of here if you so much as hold your life dear."

"Don't play as the innocent bitch, now."

The accusation hung in the air like a dark cloud, poisoning the atmosphere with its venomous hatred. Your breath was caught in your throat as you searched desperately for words to defend yourself; the crowd's hostility rendered you speechless. But amidst the cacophony of condemnation, one voice stood out above the rest.

I wonder, why this curse keeps protecting your pathetic life from people who would cross rivers to lay down yours?

Really? Were you really recalling his words now? Now of all times… You truly were pathetic.

For one moment, You just stayed silent - letting their accusations bore you down. Somewhere you wished all of it were just a nightmare. You'll soon wake up on your bed beside Sukun- fuck! Since when did you start to expect to wake up with him? He- He was toying with your mind. This was the only result. But the fact that this was your thought process had you recoil back.

The next moment, everything made sense.

These accusations were stemmed from the fact that you- you were proclaimed to be the wife of the King of curses. Your unwillingness to return, given for the pact you forged with Sukuna, was taken as your cue that you betrayed your family, your home, your people.

Your family despised you. Your people despised you. The very same people you chose to protect were turning their back on you.

Did they truly try to lay down your life?

Amidst your plight, you didn't register when the village elder marched up to you. "Didn't you hea-" His trial at speech was cut off. Nay, his lifeline was cut off. (Humorous, isn't it?)

Numerous red lines appeared on his body before it burst off into a globs of flesh and blood. Blood which splashed onto you, marring your visage and attire with its hues.

He was here. You knew it. You could feel it.

For some reason, it filled you with a sense of relief.

However, your people were on the other end of the rope. The eyes which afore held hatred and disgust, they were now filled with horror and fright. In this reverie as the villagers started to flee, a torch tumbled on the ground - lighting the grass on fire. The winds showed no mercy, as the howls increased, so did the flames.

Provoking him was never the right move.

You were digging your own grave.

So you shouldn't have been surprised that your wish would be granted. Yet, if you could have one wish then you'd wish for freedom but no- freedom was a forfeited dream, far beyond your reach. Consideration of that one would never be fruitful. You are trapped even in your dreams.

Playing with fire only gets you burnt.

For long, you played this game and this- this was your compensation. For everything you had done until now, all you are returned with was abandonment. Not that supposedly, betrayal, yes. More appropriate.

Flames surrounded you, crawling up your skin, the screams piercing your ears, your chest heaved up and down. Gaze, once settled on your hearth, now all you saw were the burning huts, the crackling of embers reached your ears. Attire and hands stained with blood of the insolent.

No one touches what's mine.

The warning shouldn't have been taken lightly. Should have known, the extent of his power.

Eyes held terror, fright, regret- whatever you could name. The multitude of names you received seemed no more than a distant dream, nowhere to be found. All were running away - expectable.

You expected calamity, but you were calm.

The sparks danced over your irises as everything went down in the crimson hues. Save for you, you weren't burning. Not an spark touched your skin. Was it the distance or the control? Who knows. But one confirmation which you held was that - tonight you won't die. Not so soon either.

Careful, not all Gods are worshipped.

The words rang in your ears and as if on cue, you found him again. In this trance of insanity, only one thing held your sight when you attempted to turn - The eyes tinted with crimson.

All of a sudden, something burnt inside you too.

Unbridled rage consumed you. Your chest heaved up and down as ragged breath left your mouth. Their words came back to you, ringing in your ears as if you were pushed into a void.

Who do you think you are? Returning after you turned your back on us.

Would this bitch even be alive if you prioritized yourself?

Don't play as the innocent bitch, now.

Is that the thanks you get for trying to protect them?

Traitors don't get to talk.

Traitor… fine, you'd be the traitor.

With caution you took one step towards him. No reaction. Your chance - you took another. Then another and another. You stood before him, with nothing save for a void etching your features. Amusement flickered over him, the corner of his lip curled up.

"Saw it for yourself wife?"

Seemed like silence was your go-to response lately. From your peripheral, you saw the burning houses, the distant screams reached you. For some reason, the screams were almost soothing. You revelled in this. Their gut wrenching shrieks were like a balm to your essence.

Their predicament was your solace.

Sounded like someone you knew. Someone who had warned you about them but you chose to remain ignorant. Sickening… were you becoming like him?

You were always like me, wife.

You could laugh. Maybe you were like him.

"Let's forge another pact?" You offered, keeping your eyes pinned on him.

"A pact?"

"A pact."

A smirk curved up his lips, the upper pair of arms crossed over his chest, "Humour me, love."

The smirk wasn't directly for you. But he did. So you returned it back. One with an equal malicious intent. Cause in that moment, no second thoughts, no doubts clouded your mind. And so, you uttered the blasphemy:

"You kill them all, each and everyone. In return, I will stay with you, give you an heir. Whatever you want from me."

.

A year later

Screams died down after a gruelling ten hours.

"Good news, Sukuna sama. It's a boy."

A/N: Honestly, I was almost done with this fic, long ago but while writing the climax, I kept chickening out with all the self-doubts but then I just wrote what I wanted. I do understand if the ending is not up to your liking and I sincerely apologize for it.

However, thanks for reading up till the end. I enjoyed writing this a lot. Some feedback is appreciated <3

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

hii can i request a snow x reader in which reader is married to another men and snow attend a party and try to win reader’s heart/seduce to marry her to fullfill both destinies in gaining power and rule panem together

Birthright || Young!Coriolanus Snow x Capitol!reader

A/n: thank you for the request anon! please send through more requests of coriolanus snow cause im running out of ideas.

Warnings: swearing, smoking, slightly dark!reader and snow?

Wc: 2,089

Divider by @firefly-graphics

You felt his hand slither around the curve of your waist, coming to a rest on the side of your hip. A smile makes it your lip as he peppers kisses along your bare shoulder and the side of your neck.

"Happy anniversary again, darling wife," Your husband, Flint, whispers against your skin. "Happy anniversary, husband," Your hand reaches to the side of his face where he leans against your touch, a light sigh leaving his lips.

"Must we throw this celebration? I'd rather celebrate this special day with you alone, in our room, preferably with no clothes on," He smirks as you breathe out of your nose and turn your body towards him. "I wish nothing more than to do that but this party needs to go through. For the sake of us," You whisper the last bit as he understands what you meant.

You take ahold of his hands and guide them down your body to let them rest on your ass as he squeezes your flesh, letting out a low groan. "Let's get this over and done with then," His tone was flat as he starts walking towards the door, his hand still on your ass as you move it higher up.

Putting on a smile, the doors open revealing the lavishly expensive styled room. Flint spent a lot of money for this celebration to be perfect. It had to be perfect for you. It was not everyday you would be celebrating your one year anniversary.

Your dress hugged your figure perfectly, accentuating the curves of your body. There was a slit on the side of your leg and a deep cut at the front showing cleavage. You were always known to be best dressed in the capitol, and your looks were not forsaken; Flint knew he was the luckiest man in Panem all because he married you.

As you stayed by your husband's side throughout the celebration, chatting to Flint’s fair-weathered friends and discussing the latest gossips with their wives, you were oblivious to a particular somebody's stares from across the room.

Coriolanus Snow swirled the goblet of posca in his hand before taking a sip, his eyes glued on you from where he was standing. The conversation around him drowning out as he watches. Watches the way your husband would pull you closer to him every single time a man would get anywhere remotely close to you, even if he was just walking pass.

Coriolanus knew Flint was a fraud. His businesses were crumbling only after a year, though he kept up a façade, for the sake of his reputation and image. He was a corrupt man who was too greedy and couldn’t deal with the consequences of his impulsive decisions with a stiff upper lip.

Snow wondered how much he had to borrow from the bank to organise such a party like this. He wondered if you even knew that Flint was in serious debt. Someone like you shouldn't be put in such a position. Your reputation possibly crumbling just because of a young idiot like Flint who you were forced to marry for political reasons.

Coming from the wealthiest family in Panem who owns a number of successful business around the Capitol and has large assets in banking, it would only make sense that you married a man with nearly equal wealth, like Flint. His family had assets in transportation and the travel industry, with assets of hotels littered all around the districts.

Born filthy rich and being raised in that environment, you only settled for nothing less than what you were already brought up with. You were the most sought after and eligible wife in the Capitol. You were raised from the age of 10 on how to be the perfect wife, and you were just that at only the age of 21.

Coryo places his goblet down on a tray carried by an Avox and weaved his way closer to you. He knew he couldn't just approach you just like that so openly, especially with Flint close by. Flint didn't even know that Snow was keeping tabs on his crumbling business and knew his dirty secrets.

And he had no idea that Coriolanus has been after you since, well, the day he laid eyes on you. You weren't a stupid person, quite the opposite. Intelligent, obedient, disciplined, stunning, rich, perfect, what else could the future president of Panem possibly want?

Snow always thought that you deserved more than to be with a guy like Flint. Your husband didn't deserve you at all, no, but someone like Coriolanus Snow did. You screamed authority in the marriage, and you would be perfect for First Lady. He always fantasised about you in that position, you walking around the presidential mansion, your children running around. The both of you standing infront of all of Panem, together, untied.

And he intends to make his fantasies come true. And so there he stood, only a few feet away from you, your eyes fixated on the goblet in your hand, a smile on your face when Flint kisses you cheek, though the smile doesn’t reach your eyes.

And as quickly as it appeared on your face, the smile disappears. “Snow!” A voice calls out making you look up and make eye contact with him. Coriolanus narrows his eyes at you before turning his attention to whoever called out to him.

“Festus,” He flatly says, tone bored as he tucks his hands deep in his deep red jacket. The second Festus opened his mouth to talk, Coriolanus caught glimpse of your leaving figure, his eyes watching you as you look over your shoulder. The two of you maintaining eye contact as you silently tell him to follow you. “Hey- Where are you going” Coryo pushes past Festus’ protests, making a beeline to the door you just walked out of.

You were slightly bewildered when you saw Coriolanus standing just a few feet away from you. His return to the capitol hadn’t reached your ears, and there he was, in his full glory. You had to admit though, what he pulled off in the 10th hunger games with Lucy Gray, bold move.

“Why, Coriolanus Snow,” The clicking of your heels came to a halt as you turn around. Coryo quietly shuts the bathroom door behind him, locking it, as you raise an eyebrow at him and fold your arms over your chest.

“Y/n,” He nods his head at you, a smile on his face. “Any reason you wanted my attention?” With a slight tilt of your head, he chuckles, removing his hands from his pockets and locking them infront of him.

“Nice celebration your husband has thrown for you,” Coriolanus nods his head at you as you try and refrain from scoffing out loud. “How much did he take from the bank this time-“ “What do you want from us?” You cut him off sharply, getting agitated by the second.

He opens his mouth, but you beat him to it. “What do you know about my Husband, Mr. Snow.” You sigh, walking over to the bathroom bench whilst pulling a joint and a lighter from the cups of your dress. Coriolanus eyes widen the slightest when he sees you lighting the blunt.

You raise an eyebrow at him, inhaling the toxic smoke before exhaling, “What? Never seen a woman smoke before? Want a hit, Snow?” You chuckle, leaning your head back against the mirror, your hand with the blunt reached out towards him.

You don’t know why you exposed yourself in front of Coriolanus when only Flint and the servants at home knew you would smoke from time to time. For some twisted, odd reason, he brought comfort to you.

Coriolanus could feel his eye twitching at the sight. He had never seen a woman, of your kind, smoking. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on even the slightest. The way your pretty lips wrapped around the joint brought his mind to filthy places.

His eyes go over your body, head to toe, his eyes lingering on your exposed leg with the slit. You catch him staring as Coriolanus clears his throat.

“I know your circumstances,” He finally speaks, “Oh?” Coriolanus wets his bottom lip, “His businesses are falling, and he’s about to be bankrupt. Soon, you’ll lose everything to your name.” You stare at the man. How he knows about this boggled your mind. Coriolanus Snow was many things, but you didn’t quite take him for someone who spent his time keeping an eye on someone like your Husband.

“I know,” You say, close to whisper as you flick the ash from the end of the joint into the sink. Coryo was stunned to say the least. He was practically sure that you had no idea about it, though it would make sense that you would since he was your husband.

But you didn’t seem fazed one bit. Flint’s businesses have been plummeting for well over 6 months now, and yet you would always appear at every event dressed in extravagant, expensive clothing. You walked around as if nothing was happening, fake it ‘till you make it I guess.

But in truth, you were far from being okay in the inside. “Do you know how fucking embarrassing it is to ask for money from my own family because my Husband can’t afford to take care of my needs?” You furrow your eyebrows as you inspect the joint in between your fingers.

Coryo moves close to you, his body leaned up against the wall. “Who would’ve thought, If I knew Flint would end up bankrupt and be a horrible businessman, I would’ve knocked abit more sense into my parents.” You chuckle as Coryo joins.

“So, what was the point of wanting to see me?” You look up at him. “You don’t deserve to live like this, knowing soon you’ll lose everything to your name. The Capitol won’t be very kind to you Y/n, or your parents.” He points out. And you knew that he was right. A Y/l/n, stripped from wealth and privilege. That would go down in the history books.

“Do you know why I came back?” Coriolanus meets your eyes as you shook your head, “I didn’t even know you came back until today,” You admit as one corner of his mouth upturns.

“Let’s just say, I have a very bright future ahead of me,” He chuckles, his gaze on the floor as you listen. “And I need someone by my side, I can’t be the only one to bask in wealth and authority,” His gaze lands on you as you stare out in front of you, occasionally bringing the joint to your lips.

“Someone by your side? Like who?” You played dumb when you knew damn well Coriolanus meant you. Why wouldn’t he. “Don’t act dumb on me know Y/n,” He smirks, “You were born to be in the public eye, live in lavish houses, wear only the finest clothes and jewelry, power. It’s basically your birthright, am I wrong?”

Coriolanus moves to stand in between your legs as you look up at him through your lashes. His eyes lingered on your chest as he had a perfect view of them, the way they were practically pooling out of your top. You take one final hit before stubbing out the joint, and sit up to close the distance between the two of you.

His offer was enticing. The lords have answered your prayers. “You’re not wrong, but there’s just one tiny little problem.” You bite your lip lightly, wondering if you should even point it out because Coriolanus would already know. “My husband. Something that tragic would have to happen to leave me, single. If I divorced him later on, I’m afraid it would be too late,” You flicker your eyes to Coriolanus who wore a small smirk on his lips.

“Very tragic, my dear,” He lifts your chin up before dropping his head and capturing your lips with his into a deep kiss. When knews came that your Husband had mysteriously died, you immediately went to see Coriolanus. When he looks at you from his chair as you stand infront of him, a victories smile is etched onto his face, “Snow lands on top,” He voices out, his hand reaching out to you.

You gladly take his hand and sit on his lap, “Snow lands on top,” You echo, smiling against his lips before kissing him.

[delulujuls]

loverboy | ln4

hi, i finally wrote second part for tinder buddies! im not sure if i like it though, i've got an idea but i dont know how it went.

anyway please enjoy and lets cross our fingers for japan win for this loverboy!

i will let myself tag everyone who wanted to be tagged in part 2: @mickslover @formula-1-04 @petitefaeries @bayleewatts67 @xjval @kapsylia @teamnovalak @slutforln4 @shimmermotorsport @myownwritings @maydiamondsinthenightsky @mikadojohnny

summary: when it turned out that Lando is more of a loverboy than a fuckboy and there is no point in trusting appearances because they tend to be misleading

warnings: none

pairing: fem!journalist!reader x lando norris

Y/N looked as if she had seen a ghost. She clenched her phone in her hand and glanced at the spot where Lando had been just a moment ago. Yes, that Lando, with whom she had a brief interview a few seconds ago, Lando Norris, who drives for McLaren, her Tinder buddy with whom she's been exchanging explicit messages for over a month now, and who knows more about her body seen through the camera than any guy she's had the chance to flirt with in person.

The girl only snapped out of it when the camera operator she had been filming with nudged her shoulder.

"The team bosses' interview is about to start, I saved us seats."

She quickly nodded and tucked the microphone into her bag, throwing it over her shoulder. She glanced at the McLaren garage one last time before heading to the conference. After all, she was here because she had duties.

As she took her place among the crowd of other journalists, instead of focusing on coming up with questions, she picked up her phone again. It immediately unlocked to her conversation with Lando, and she hastily replied to his latest, unambiguous proposition.

"I'm a bit busy at the moment. If you want, we can meet later in the evening."

Lando was scrolling through Instagram when a new message popped up in his notifications. He smiled and swiped it open, reading and replying quickly.

"i'd be honored. give me the address of the hotel you're at. and be ready by 9."

The girl smiled and sent him the address along with a note that she couldn't wait, wishing him good luck in qualifying.

Lando felt his cheeks hurting from smiling. However, he locked his phone and set it aside. He knew that if he didn't restrain himself, he would bombard the girl with messages. He was so excited about the whole situation, the overflow of emotions building up in him could easily secure him pole position that day, which he sincerely hoped for. He wanted to present himself in the best possible way, knowing that on that day, one special pair of eyes would be watching him.

Y/N was also excited, but as time passed, she began to feel stressed. Not because she was going on a date with Lando Norris, but because she was about to confront someone whom she may have known inside out but in reality had no idea who he truly was. She was slightly apprehensive about whether Lando would turn out to be as he portrayed himself on his Tinder profile. There, she dealt with a confident guy who knew how to flirt, who knew how to make a girl's heart beat faster. With a guy who focused only on fun and ultimately only on it. Someone who knew what he wanted and sooner or later would get it, one way or another. Now, knowing her conversation partner's identity, Y/N was certain that their online acquaintance might only exist in that dimension. And just as she had realized before, somewhere in the back of her mind lived a lonely spark, nourished by the hope that something more serious might come out of this online acquaintance. Lando was out of her reach, that was more than certain. However, she didn't plan to dwell on negative thoughts because she had a chance for a pleasant evening ahead of her. She had no intention of ruining it.

Qualifying didn't come as a surprise to anyone, as Max was to start the race from pole position the next day, with Charles in second place. But to everyone's positive surprise, Lando closed the top three, giving McLaren the opportunity to start from third position. Y/N planned to text him and congratulate him on his excellent performance, but she decided to wait until evening with her congratulations. She didn't want to come off as pushy or, worse, as a psycho.

Lando, indeed, was pleased with himself, but not as much as if he had managed to secure pole position. Y/N could notice this on one of the monitors, where post-qualifying interviews with drivers conducted by David Coulthard were taking place.

"Great performance, Lando, you were on Ferrari's heels today!"

"We did well today, not just me, but Oscar and the whole team as well. I hoped for more, but you know, the appetite comes with eating," he replied, but despite the smile on his flushed face, he actually seemed not very pleased with the result. Y/N was packing her things when she observed post-qualifying talks out of the corner of her eye. "I wanted to perform particularly well today, but unfortunately it didn't work out. I hope tomorrow will be better."

The girl sighed and glanced at the contents of her bag, looking at her phone lying at the bottom. She took it out and unlocked it, entering their conversation. She wanted to send him a selfie, smiling and holding up four fingers with a note congratulating him on the result, but she thought it might be a bit silly. So, she quickly wrote an alternative.

"Speaking of appetite, I hope you're looking forward to dinner more positively than to your third starting place. In my opinion, you did great today x"

When Lando finally had the chance to reach for his phone and saw the message from the girl, he sincerely hoped to see her face again. He hovwever, was pleased with her congratulations.

"i can't wait for tonight. and I hope tomorrow we'll have better reasons to celebrate"

Y/N smiled to herself, throwing her bag over her shoulder and heading with the cameraman to the media zone to have the opportunity to talk to some of the drivers or team principals. She replied quickly.

"We?"

"tomorrow I'd also like to invite you to dinner. because i'm afraid tonight may not be enough for us"

The girl felt herself blushing, so she quickly put her phone in her pocket. She didn't manage to run into Lando in the media zone again, but she had the opportunity to gather some more good material. As the drivers began to return to their garages and the paddock slowly began to empty, Y/N and the cameraman also decided to return to the hotel. The girl was absolutely not in the mood to deal with the footage recorded that day, so she was immensely grateful when her coworker offered to spend the rest of the day on preliminary editing and assured her that she didn't have to worry about anything. Y/N breathed a sigh of relief, as in her current pre-date euphoria, she wouldn't be able to create anything suitable for publication. When the girl returned to her hotel room, she decided to take a long bath. Sitting in the tub, her phone lying nearby vibrated again.

"actually, would you mind if i pick you up at 8?"

Y/N smiled when she read his message. She glanced at her watch. She still had 3 hours before leaving, so she should manage without any trouble.

"Why, have you already missed me?"

Lando snorted to himself as he read her message. He would be lying if he said he hadn't. He wanted to see her again as soon as possible.

"if i'm being honest, i would like to be sitting with you at dinner already"

Y/N also smiled. It was cute and completely unlike the image Lando had built and which she had in her head.

"I guess I shouldn't torture you that much. I'll try to be ready by 7."

Lando smiled and squeezed his phone in his hand. Now he couldn't wait for the meeting even more.

"see you then, darling"

The girl blushed when he affectionately called her that. She set aside her phone and immersed herself in the hot water, but even that couldn't wipe the smile off her face.

At the agreed time, both of them were ready. When the girl stepped out of the hotel, she didn't even need to look around, as she easily noticed Lando leaning against his impressive car. He held a bouquet of white flowers in his hand and smiled as soon as he saw her. He walked a little towards her, but he had no idea how to greet her. Offer her his hand? Hug her? What would be most appropriate? He didn't want to make a fool of himself.

"Hi, good to see you," he said, unable to take his eyes off her. He bit his lip, but still couldn't stop smiling. "You look stunning."

"You too, but I'm sure you already know that," she replied, looking into his eyes. They were sparkling, brightening up his already joyful face. Even though he was wearing a dark shirt and dark jeans, his hair was slightly disheveled, and she could already smell his cologne almost on the stairs, Lando at that moment looked adorable, like an elated child.

"Maybe so, but it's always nice to hear it from someone like you," he replied, extending the flowers towards her. "Here, these are for you. And I hope I didn't make a mistake and accidentally buy you flowers you hate."

The girl chuckled softly and shook her head, taking the flowers from him and smelling them.

"No, absolutely not. I love white flowers, and these are beautiful. Thank you."

"Phew, thank god," he theatrically let out a sigh of relief "Glad I started off on the right foot."

"I rather doubt you don't know how to behave around girls," she retorted, following him as he opened the car door for her.

"Well, I'm afraid you might be surprised," he replied, helping her into the car and closing the door behind her.

Lando chose a very pleasant restaurant, located not far from the hotel where the girl was staying. The place was cozy and seemed expensive, but it manifested in a modest way, without any tackiness or artificial wealth. He reserved a table in the corner of the room, so they could expect a bit of privacy. Before taking his seat at the table, he pulled out the chair for the girl. She tried her best to remain composed, but the smile never left her face. This meeting and this whole situation was more than crazy.

"I hope I picked a good place," he said, sitting across from her. "I've never been to these restaurants before, so today's choice was largely based on Google reviews."

He admitted, glancing at her uncertainly. But seeing her smile, he smiled too.

"It's very nice here. Your choice didn't disappoint."

"Second victory in twenty minutes, going better than I expected," he joked, eliciting a quiet laugh from the girl. He then thought it was a good sign that she laughed at his jokes. It meant that this whole situation had potential.

Lando was genuinely stressed about this meeting. He knew well how people perceived him and what kind of guy girls thought he was, but the truth was entirely different. His hands were sweating with nerves in the car, and he prayed that the steering wheel wouldn't slip from his hands and cause some idiotic accident. Upon returning to the hotel, he spent over two hours searching for the right place to take the girl for dinner and did about twenty quizzes on what flowers he should buy her for their first date. Since he met her at the paddock, they had the opportunity to talk, and he managed to connect all the facts. He felt like either his heart would jump out of his chest or his cheeks would fall off from smiling. In reality, Lando was absolutely not who he portrayed himself to be and how he was perceived. And Y/N was slowly starting to realize that.

When the couple placed their orders and the waiter brought the vase for flowers that Lando had requested earlier, there was a moment of silence. Both were equally embarrassed, not knowing if it was because of each other or the whole situation.

"So," Lando started, rubbing his hands on his pants, "oh god, I don't even know where to begin. Should we pretend we don't know each other and this is our first meeting? Or perhaps the opposite?"

"I honestly have no idea, but I'm glad we both don't know how to behave," Y/N laughed. "But we can start over. Like it's our first date."

She smiled warmly at him. He reciprocated the smile and reached out his hand towards her.

"Lando, nice to meet you."

"Y/N, and it's also a pleasure for me, Lando."

She shook his hand. From that moment on, everything started to go smoothly. The conversation flowed smoothly, and there wasn't a single moment when there wasn't something to talk about. Lando turned out to be the complete opposite of the person she met on Tinder. He was also different from the Lando she sometimes observed in the media. He turned out to be a funny and very intelligent guy with interesting hobbies, not just those revolving around Formula 1. His big heart and incredible modesty also made it impossible not to feel sympathy towards him. Lando, on the other hand, wasn't really up for this meeting, he honestly had no idea what to expect. As it turned out, he met not only an attractive but also hardworking girl, for whom motorsport was not just a job but also a hobby. It also turned out that they had a lot in common, so after a while, the remnants of stress and uncertainty disappeared, and they began to feel in each other's company as if they had known each other for ages.

Their conversation was only interrupted by the waiter, who apologized and said that the restaurant was closing in fifteen minutes. Y/N and Lando both looked at their watches at the same time and were shocked to find that it was just before midnight, and the past five hours had flown by like fifteen minutes.

"Sure, of course, we'll ask for the check," Lando replied to the waiter, who went to tally their dinner. As soon as the girl reached for her purse, Lando looked at her meaningfully. "I hope you don't think I brought you here for you to have to pay."

"We can split the bill," she replied, looking at him and clutching her wallet. "People usually do that on first dates, right?"

"It would be a pleasure if you honored me to be a gentleman and let me pay."

Y/N laughed and shook her head.

"As you wish, Mr. Gentleman."

When he paid for their dinner, they left the restaurant together. Lando once again opened the car door for her, and their eyes met when their faces were inches apart as she passed him to take the passenger seat. When they were back at her hotel, the girl reluctantly glanced towards the entrance. She would have loved to spend time with him until the early morning.

She sighed and smiled sadly, looking at him.

"I know, me too," he replied, easily reading her thoughts. "But we'll probably bump into each other in the paddock in the morning. Purely by chance, of course, not like I'll intentionally run into you, absolutely not."

Y/N chuckled at his words.

"It was very nice spending the evening with you, Lando."

"The pleasure was all mine," he replied, smiling at her.

They sat in silence for a moment, exchanging silent glances.

"Would it be inappropriate if I kissed you now? Since we agreed that today we're starting with a clean slate?"

He asked, his gaze moving from her eyes to her lips.

"People don't usually kiss on first dates, but I feel like I've seen these lips somewhere before, and they've told me a lot of different, indecent things, so I think we can make an exception."

She replied, biting her lip. She surprised herself with her boldness, not to mention Lando, who just saw the same girl who he sometimes saw on the screen of his phone in the evenings. As soon as he got her consent, he touched her cheek without hesitation and pulled her into a long, passionate kiss.

Y/N returned the kiss, smiling into his lips.

"Have a good race tomorrow, and after tomorrow's dinner, I'll invite you for dessert."

She whispered, still centimeters away from him, when they separated after a moment. Lando unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car, circling around it, opening her door, and offering her his hand.

"I think I can fit in dessert tonight too," he replied, biting his lip and looking into her eyes. She returned the smile and handed him her hand without hesitation. It seemed that the evening was not ending for these two, on the contrary, it was just about to begin.

[wileys-russo]

leah williamson, “are you really going to make me ask for a rivals jersey”, barca and arsenal match

switched the location up a little to the CL final! l.williamson II rivals

"you did it!" you laughed as a body crash tackled into you, nearly sending you to the ground before you caught your footing and steadied yourself, wrapping your arms tightly around your sister.

"i wish we did it." you smiled honestly as you pulled away from the hug, ana frowning and kissing your forehead, her arm draping across your shoulder.

"well i like to think its thanks to my footballing skills, guidance and dedicated coaching that you're even half as good as you are anyway. so then we did it!" the blonde grinned messing up your hair and kissing your cheek as you pushed her away.

"never mind i take it back i haven't missed you." your eyes rolled as the girl pulled a face before she was tugged away by mapi for a catch up. "well did you miss me?" you spun around at the familiar voice, features softening into a smile.

"always. i'd take seeing your face over ana's anyday!" you grinned as lia laughed and hugged you, your sisters best friend echoing how proud she was as you noticed an awkward blonde mulling about behind her.

"you can say hi you know, i don't bite." you teased the english woman who cracked a smile and moved closer. "she's trying to pretend she's not here." lia whispered in your ear, nodding to leah's attempts at a cover up which was simply a hat and a hoodie tugged over her head.

"very good disguise williamson. i almost didn't recognise you if it wasn't for your terrible posture!" you winked as the older girl shoved you, giving you a side hug making lia chuckle who was well aware of your history with her other best friend.

you'd played for a couple of seasons for manchester city before transferring to barcelona after a record breaking euros performance where you were one of the competitions highest goal scorers.

during that time you saw a lot of lia, your sister making her promise to keep an eye on you despite the fact you were living hours apart, forever over protective as she had been your entire life.

in london for a game against chelsea you'd organisd to go to dinner with lia who asked if it was okay if she brought a friend, and always having been known as quite the social butterfly you had no objections.

that was when you first met leah, the reserved and unusually quiet blonde striking you from the moment she sat down, not speaking much over dinner but always avidly listening you worried you'd not made a great first impression.

but then dragged out for some drinks with a few more of lia's friends afterward, now in a more comfortable environment you watched leah's hard outer shell start to crack and somewhere along the way you seemed to sneak in.

far too many drinks and an embarrassingly soppy call to your sister later about how much you missed her, something you refused to admit sober not wanting to give her the satisfaction, you woke up in an unfamiliar house and bed and panicked.

your anxiety increased when there'd been a knock at the door and leah of all people had wandered in offering you a coffee and an advil, your heart rate not needing the caffeine to increase at the sight.

"did we..." you trailed off awkwardly with a wince, leah quick to shake her head and explain you were in lia's home and she'd crashed the night there as well but on the sofa, and you were a strange combination of relieved and disappointed at her answer.

from that night leah seemed to find her footing around you, opening up a lot more and seeming much more herself anytime you bumped into one another at events or matches.

then finally city played arsenal for the first time that season and you were shocked when the blonde had asked to swap jerseys, and then riding out this wave of confidence to dinner with her that same night.

from then on the two of you had seemed to always tip toe around anything further, lia hopelessly confused as to what you were or how you felt, egging both of you on to just bite the bullet and ask the other on an actual date.

each time you'd play one another it was the same unspoken routine, jersey swap and dinner, sometimes in london and other times in manchester, and after months and months of dancing around what the two of you were when it seemed things might become a little more serious after a night of heavy touching and kissing, you'd broken the news you were moving to barcelona.

leah hid her true feelings well, dismissing everything to just a fling as you swallowed your own feelings at her statement, agreeing with a nod and taking things further that same night.

that was the first and last time you'd slept with her, contact simmering out between the two of you once you'd moved and though it technically hadn't been anything serious, it left you with a strange mix of emotions to shove down and ignore.

"how have you been?" you asked sincerely, lia wandering off to find her girlfriend as leah shrugged. "can't complain, even if i did nobody would care." the blonde finally grinned, the sight making you feel something you'd not in a long time as you chuckled.

the two of you made small talk for awhile, moving to the side away from the main celebrations as you caught one another up on what had been happening the last year.

"well...you know what has to happen now don't you." you sighed, leah frowning curiously as you tugged at the hem of your shirt. "oh no, you are joking right?" leah caught on with a laugh and a shake of her head.

"i absolutely am not, its tradition leah. i thought that meant something to you brits!" you teased poking at her as she rolled her eyes playfully and fiddled with the small bag clipped across her chest.

"are you really going to make me ask for a rivals jersey?" leah chuckled as you scoffed. "so it wasn't an issue when i played for a direct rival, we're not even in the same country let alone the same league and now its a problem?" you raised an eyebrow as the blonde sighed dramatically.

"may i have your jersey please?" "mmm...no."

"oi!" leah scowled as you turned to walk away, spinning back around with a grin and a wink. "since you said please." you began to pull it off as leah hurried to shrug off her jacket, offering it toward you as you gave a grateful smile and wrapped it around your near bare top half, zipping it up.

"can't wait for the rumours i'm transferring now." leah sighed with a shake of her head, your shirt slung over her shoulder making you laugh. "well with such a good disguise how on earth would anyone know its you?" you teased flicking her cap up as she pulled it back down and kicked at you halfheartedly.

"so how long are you in barcelona for?" you asked, trying to ignore the way your senses were being drowned in the familiar scent of leahs expensive perfume, the same one she'd always worn which tweaked a nerve.

"couple of days." the blonde shrugged as you hummed, smiling at the expectant look on her face knowing what she hoped to happen next.

"are you really going to make me ask a rival out for dinner?" "its the polite thing to do isn't it?" "well you don't have a great sense of direction, you probably need someone with local knowledge to help you find the nearest plain ham sandwich."

"hey my taste buds have developed! we could get burgers...plain ones." leah trailed off with a mumble making you laugh as her heart soared a little at the noise. "with an offer as tempting as that how can i say no?" you bumped your shoulder into hers with a smile, seeing your sister frantically wave for your attention over her shoulder.

"how about i cook you dinner? i still have your number, i'll text you." you promised, starting to walk away before she could decline. "oi crnogorcevic?" you turned at her call, eyebrow raised and still walking backwards as leah smiled.

"its a date."

[enwoso]

PINK SKIES — alessia russo

this has been in the works for a few months, just didn’t know when or if i wanted to post it as it involved quite a sensitive topic, and a topic which should be addressed in a very mature way.

this is also a topic which i hold very dear to my heart and is quite personal to me, especially since i lost someone very special to me in a similar way but i just wanted to share this as a way to raise awareness especially with september being dedicated to suicide prevention month but just you know you are appreciated, you are worth it and that there are people out there who can help and support you. please, you are not alone.🤍

WARNING: mentions of death, allusions of sui**de and just upsetting themes! please do not read if any of these topics are sensitive to you.

"thought i'd find you here" lotte cooed as she stood with a sad smile, a few metres away from alessia whom was sat on the kerbside, only the streetlight to keep her company as the sky merged into a darker, gloomier colour.

alessia turned to look at the girl she'd known her entire life, before turning back to look at what was in her hands. a crumpled piece of paper with neat hand writing on it. a piece of paper which had not left her hands all day.

alessia didn't say anything instead her fingers just toyed with the piece of paper, tears falling down her cheeks. lotte made her way cautiously towards the blonde slotting down on the kerbside next to her, placing an arm around her. alessia’s head immediately landing on the girls shoulder.

it had been a long day. goodbyes are hard. especially last goodbyes, they sting the most and leave this feeling in your heart that never seems to go away.

"it's okay, less. she had a beautiful send off" lotte whispered as she let the blonde cry in her arms knowing that this had been building all day.

"i miss her lotte..." alessia choked out sniffles escaping her as tears streamed down her face and onto the piece of paper as she felt lotte nod pulling alessia closer to her.

"i know less and that's normal- but she wouldn't want you to be sat on the kerb crying" lotte sympathised as alessia nodded lightly. she knew you wouldn't want her to be sat on the kerb, heck she knew you would have wanted a big send off like the one that had been done for you.

but grief doesn't work in the way alessia imagined. its not a straight line, there's no formula to it. it's a mess.

some days the blonde feels as though your still beside her, joking about her tripping over thin air. but other days it hits alessia and she feels all those raw emotions all at once, again.

"i- i just wish she was here- she had so much still to live for.." alessia choked out once again, her words forming into one it barely being able to be understood but lotte did. she knew what alessia meant.

you and alessia hadn't known each other very long. you of course knew of each other but that was it. just shadows in the background of the others life.

it was an england camp which brought you together, one simple conversation and it changed alessia's life forever.

a silly conversation about different types of cookies and how your favourite was jammy dodgers as you would eat around the rim and then eat the jam center — alessia thought it was the funniest thing and was always in stitches watching you eat them that way.

but she was the type of person you just clicked with. no effort was needed. the type of friend you make and then don't remember how the first interaction went.

you just went from one day being total strangers to the next being the best of friends.

“and now you have to live for her, remember the good less.” lotte tried as alessia shook her head the peice of paper still clutching to her hand.

“no lotte, i just feel like i failed her. she was my best friend how could i have let this happen, i could have helped her, done something and maybe this wouldn’t have happened,, i could-“ alessia rambled out as lotte just the let the blonde do it her cheeks tears stained as her mascara had smudged under her eyes, the blonde moving her head from resting on lotte’s shoulder.

both lotte and alessia knew there was nothing that could have been done to help you. nobody could have even noticed that you were struggled never mind how bad your mental state was.

you had been estatic finding out that alessia was moving to london and more specifically to arsenal. it meant no more countdowns to when you’d next see each other, it meant you didn’t need to sit on a train for three hours again. it meant you could see each other any time you wanted.

alessia would forever remember the excitement in your voice when she picked up her phone.

"your actually coming to london!"

"yeah i am! we are gonna be in london together!”

"i can't wait to spend every day with you less"

"me neither y/n, me neither."

or how the two of you spent the next two hours on call with each other as you listed all the places you were going to show her, the local cafe where you went for your morning coffee before training, the park where you walked your mum’s dog — rocco every day, the restaurant you always went with your sister when she came to visit.

alessia eventually making the move to arsenal after a bittersweet summer in australia not being able to come away with the world cup win but neverless having an unforgettable summer spent by your best friends side.

both you and alessia's focus moving towards the start of the new season, while also fitting in all the places you wanted to show alessia in the weekends which you had off which came few and thin.

everything in alessia's eyes was perfect, she was living in london with her best friend, she was closer to her family and she was getting to play football with her best friends day in and out.

but for you it couldn't have been further from that.

after the world cup getting back into the next season was tough for you, going from match to match without a break was hard. some weeks you were playing ninety minutes, twice a week. you were getting pushed to your limits.

you mental health had begun to take a toll, social media trolls were getting to you, one miss kick in a match and you had a huge target on your back and were the victim of online abuse. you weren't the perfect angel who was seen as a hero if you scored a goal and could do no wrong in the team.

if you scored the response was why are you not doing it every game?

if you defended well the obvious response was that's the bare minimum, that's your job as a defender.

if the team conceded it was your fault.

if you got into the england squad the response was you had taken away from someone else who actually deserved it.

in the eyes of the public you could do no right.

but no one could see you were mentally and physically struggling, your teammates thought you had just learned to not care what the public said about you on social media or thought you hadn't seen it but in reality you had probably seen it long before they did.

in videos and in real life you never didn't have a smile on your face and one thing you never stopped doing was sitting with alessia and laughing about nothing.

but at home when you were alone, your mind ate away at you. letting yourself truly believe that what people were saying online was the person you were.

“i’m so stupid though i should have noticed the signs, how she wasn’t herself” alessia carried on her rant to lotte as lotte listened. that’s what alessia needed right now, is to let it all out as alessia continued.

“less, there was nothing you could do” lotte cooed, another sniffle coming from alessia as she kicked the stones underneath her feet.

a silence filled the gap, not an awkward one but the silence could definitely be felt. the slight wind that followed as the street grew darker, behind the building where the reception was happening with all your family and friends were.

“what’s that?” lotte questioned, pointing towards the piece of paper that she’d noticed alessia carrying all day. it never leaving the blondes hand during the entire service and reception afterwards.

alessia looked down at it, a sad smile on her face as she did. “a letter..” alessia paused, “y/n wrote before she um, you know.. died.”

a change in look come from lotte as her facial expression changed, it sunk a little deeper. lotte didn’t pry though she knew that whatever had been written in that letter was personal, it wasn’t her business to know. if alessia wanted her to know alessia would tell her off her own back.

“i found it in her room when i was going through her things in her apartment-“ alessia spoke, pausing to take a deep breath, her mind building the picture of her walking through your apartment for the last time. how strange it felt. how empty it felt.

alessia continued, “it was weird lotte, it was like she had never been there- the walls, the drawers.. they were bare, like she never even been there before.”

lotte nodded lightly as another small silence came over the two, a little flicker of the street light before the silence was broken.

“it’s funny really because i wish i could just sit and listen to her ramble on about nothing but we would still loose track of time” a small sad smile appeared on the blonde face as she recounted the memory, lotte sitting listening with a similar look as alessia carried on.

“-or the fact she would never let us get coffee from anywhere else but her local cafe where she’d get the same coffee each time — but she’d never have to ask cause the person behind the counter would always have it ready for her. i think that’s why she like to go there..” a little giggled came from alessia as she thought about the many times she tried to get you to go to a different coffee place but you’d point blank refuse.

“less i know it’s gonna be hard but y/n will always be cheering for you not only up there-“ lotte pointed to the dark star which was now filled with tiny white stars, “but in here too” lotte pointed to alessia’s heart as a small nod came from her, she knew lotte was right.

“and overall she’d want you to carry on playing and winning trophy after trophy. so even if you don’t think you can do it for yourself.. do it for y/n.” lotte told the blonde as another shaky breath came from alessia, tears threatening to fall once again.

“i wish i could play football with her again.” alessia shakily said as lotte pulled the blonde into a tight hug, running her hand up and down the blondes back as she comforted her.

“i wish tomorrow came”

you just about made it to the new year, which you spent with alessia and her family as she had insisted that you were not seeing the new year in alone, she wasn't going to allow that to happen.

that was probably the last time you actually truly smiled. just being surrounded by happiness and not having negativity seeping through your veins.

the loss against west ham, the online abuse pretty much tripled. you being blamed for a short pass which resulted in a second goal for west ham and the fans had deemed that you had then and there lost arsenal the chance of winning the league.

after that weekend you found yourself spending a lot more time alone which was not a good thing. your thoughts were spiralling, you began to question why were you actually here?

any team bonding sessions you then began not to turn up, each one declined with a different excuse.

any time alessia asked you to hang out it was always the same, 'feeling tired today less, maybe tomorrow yeah?"

alessia began to notice your change in behaviour but at first did put it down to you just being tired, your limits being pushed to the max. she knew that, heck she wasn't blind anyone could see it.

it wasn't until the first england camp of the new year when you pulled out because of injury did she begin to realise you weren't just tired or injured for that matter.

she called you and you had told her nothing but lies, that you had tweaked you knee in the last game however that was the first game in months that you didn't play a full ninety. so the blondes suspicions raised, and the blonde promised she would come and see you straight after the game at wembley tomorrow.

however tomorrow for you, never came.

[soaps-mohawk]

The Beach

Kyletober Day 14: Teratophilia

Summary: The beach is well known among humans. Those brave enough to tread those shores know what they’re asking for, and the merfolk are more than willing to oblige.

Pairing: Merman!Kyle x reader

Word Count: 2,627 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex, monsters, monster fucking, merpeople, Kyle is a merman, merman anatomy, public sex, slight emotions at the end.

A/N: This one might be my second favorite of them all. I wish I could draw then I'd show you merman Kyle. Tempted to make this a series...

MASTERLIST

Your feet sink into the sand as you stroll leisurely along the beach. It’s warm, the sun high in the sky shining down on the crystal blue water of the vast ocean before you. There’s a slight breeze coming off the water, bringing with it the salty scent of the sea. It ruffles your skirt around your legs, goosebumps forming on your skin as it shoots up between your thighs, kissing your wet cunt. 

Moans sound up and down the beach, bodies writhing with the ebb and flow of every wave. Excitement stirs in your stomach as you near an empty spot, getting closer to the water. There’s no cover, no privacy as you tug your shirt over your head. There’s no need for it. People only come to this beach for one reason. You all know why you’re here. Shame gets left behind in the parking lot. 

You fold your shirt and skirt, setting them up higher on the sand before you approach the lapping waves, a knot of excitement and nerves coiling inside your stomach. It’s not the first time you’ve done this, nor will it be the last, yet every time you can’t avoid the nervous shake to your hands. 

You wade out into the water until it’s halfway up your calf before you sit, humming quietly as the warmth of it surrounds you. It’s a beautiful day today, which is why the beach is so full. 

You don’t have to sit there for very long, the water bulging with the oncoming waves. Something is speeding towards the beach, your body pulsing in excitement. Your breath catches in your throat as you suddenly find yourself face to face with a figure.  Big, dark eyes stare into yours, clawed hands sinking into the sand on either side of you. It always makes you jump, his body seeming to materialize out of the sea before you can even blink. 

“Hi.” You whisper, taking a moment to catch your breath as you stare at him. 

Amethyst skin glitters in the sunlight, beads of water sliding down his face. He’s leaner than he is bulky, but your eyes still trace the peaks and divots of his muscles. He’s beautiful, even if he is so different from you. 

He’s human-like at the top but then that amethyst skin disappears under darker purple scales at his waist. His tail is beautiful, swirling with hues of purple. His fins tickle your legs as he pulls himself closer, the spines on his back tucking down as he reaches up, one slippery, webbed hand cupping your cheek. There’s a bit of seaweed draped over his shoulder, your hand raising to pull it off of him. His head follows your movements, watching your hand as you drop the slimy weed back into the water. Your hand lifts again, your fingers softly touching his shoulder. His skin is thick and almost rubbery, much harder to break than your own delicate skin. An adaptation evolved to survive in the harsh world under the water, you suppose. 

Your fingers trail back up his arm, following the lines of his muscle before you reach his hand, pressing your palm against it. His skin is cool to the touch, but he’s not cold blooded, at least you don’t think so judging by the other parts of him that are warm. 

Your fingertips brush the delicate webs between his fingers, his hand flexing against your cheek. A small smile tugs at your lips. He may be tougher than you are, but he’s still sensitive. 

He doesn’t greet you back with words, instead leaning forward to press his lips against yours. He’s careful not to nick you with his sharp teeth as he kisses you, something you’re grateful for. He’s caught you a couple times by accident in the heat of passion. Just something to remember him by. 

He’s never spoken to you, at least not in the way humans speak. You’re not entirely sure he’s capable of speaking like a human. He’s never so much as made a single noise in the time you’ve been together. Maybe they communicate like whales and dolphins in the water. Or perhaps they communicate through body language like other mammals. 

You’re assuming he’s mammalian...then again you don’t really know all that much about merpeople outside of this aspect of them. 

He continues to kiss you, his tongue pressing against the seam of your lips. It’s warm as it presses into your mouth, flicking against your own. He tastes briney and salty like the water you’re sitting in. It’s not an unpleasant taste. In fact, you’ve grown to enjoy it.

His hand leaves your face, sinking into the sand by your side. Your hands fall back as he presses closer to you, keeping you from splashing back into the water. It’s deep enough you might run the risk of inhaling it. What would he do if you started drowning? Could he help you? Would he know how? 

You shake that thought from your mind. You like to think he wouldn’t let that happen. 

The top of his tail in the front between where his legs would be is beginning to bulge. He’s just as excited as you are about this, well accustomed to the dance the two of you often do. You’re here as much as you can be, and he’s always the one that comes to you, almost like he’s waiting for you.

You’re not sure how he knows, but he always does. 

His arms wrap around you, flipping the two of you over so he’s in the water, the waves lapping at the sides of his face. His gills move as he breathes in the water, those big eyes staring up at you unblinking. The first time you saw him, a shiver had run down your spine. He’s just human enough for your brain to see the similarities, but also so very much not human. That doesn’t make him any less beautiful, though. You’ve wandered this beach many times, catching glimpses when you dared to look at the merpeople that frequent here. They’re all so beautiful, yet all so different. 

It had taken a lot of time to work up the courage to stick your feet in the water. 

Now you can’t imagine having any hesitations. 

He’s beautiful to look at, something that would be sculpted out of marble and placed in a museum as a testament to the beauty of merpeople. If he were human, he’d be stunning, someone who would be on the cover of magazines, walking a runway. He’d be someone painted by an artist to be hung in a museum so humans could gaze upon his beauty for centuries. He deserves to be immortalized somehow, remembered for generations to come. A celebrity, someone who is worshiped for his beauty and splendor. 

He’d be so far out of your league if he was a human. 

He’s not though, yet you still feel blessed as you sit over him, watching as the slit at the top of his tail peels open. You run your fingers along the sensitive skin, his lips parting as you tease the slick folds. His own hand lifts, slipping between your thighs. He copies your movements, careful not to catch you with his claws as he strokes your folds. Your teeth sink into your lip at the feeling of those rough fingers against your sensitive skin. You’re already soaked at the idea of what’s going to transpire, of what you’re about to do. 

Your fingers on his slit begin to coax his cock out of its confines, the narrow tip beginning to peek out. You trail your fingers over it, gathering the slippery substance leaking out all over your fingers. You lift them to your mouth, tasting the viscous fluid. The salt from the water mixes with the naturally briney taste of him, the flavors dancing on your tongue. 

His back arches as his cock continues to slip out of his slit, growing and growing until the thick length presses against his stomach. Arousal pulses between your thighs, your own natural lubrication soaking his fingers. They press against your clit, a quiet moan leaving your lips as you reach for him. He’s slick and slippery as you wrap your fingers around his cock, dragging your hand along the ridges that line his length. He’s not like a human man, instead tapered from tip to base. His head is narrower while the base is so thick you can barely get your fingers fully around him. 

You nearly cum from the thoughts flashing through your head. You’ll never be able to be satisfied by a man again, but maybe that was the whole point. That was why this beach existed, that was why they were so willing to do this. 

They must like it as much as you humans do if they keep returning here. 

If they have their favorites. 

It’s not love, at least not to them. You don’t think so anyway. How many other women does he do this with? How many other women does he stare up at with those eyes? How many other women’s bodies has he touched? 

You try not to think about it too much. 

You pump his cock, dragging your fingers over the ridges and bumps. His lips part, no sound coming out but you can imagine how sweet he would sound. Breathy moans and groans, needy whines. Would he beg you to make him cum, or would he make you beg? Perhaps both. He always winds up taking control in the end, even if he lets you have control at first like he is now. 

His hand slips out from between your thighs, the other lifting so they’re gripping your hips. His claws dig just slightly into your skin, but he’s careful not to dig too deep and hurt you. It’s inevitable though, with his anatomy and your soft human skin. It never seems to give him pause if he hurts you on accident, perhaps because you never react. You don’t care about a little pain. What’s a little pain if this is what you get in return?

He pulls your hips forward, his own way of saying ‘hurry up.’ You can’t delay it anymore, eager to feel him again. You lift yourself up over his hips, your hand gripping the base of his cock. He’s hard and pulsing in your hand as you line him up, slipping the narrow tip inside of you. You never need much prep between your own arousal and the slippery substance that coats his cock. The excitement of getting to fuck a merman is more than enough for you, just as it seems the opportunity to fuck a human gets him just as excited. 

Maybe it’s you he’s excited about. 

No. You won’t entertain those thoughts. 

Your hands press against his stomach, feeling the muscle underneath his skin flexing as you sink lower and lower on his cock. Your head tilts back as you’re stretched open around him, the ridges on his cock dragging against your walls. They hit all of the right places inside of you, making you feel alive and electric. His cock is warm despite the cool touch of his skin, the contrasting temperatures paired with the warmth of the water splashing against your back has goosebumps forming on your skin. 

He’s deep inside of you once you’re fully seated on his cock, stretched open around his thick base. You could cum just like this, but you don’t want this to be over before you’re just getting started. His claws are pinching your skin but you pay him no mind as you stare down at him. Those wide, dark eyes stare up at you, his lips slightly parted. He’s clinging to whatever control he has. You can see it in his face. He’s trying not to flip you over and fuck you into the sand. It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened. You’d just prefer to be in shallower water if he’s going to do that. 

He wouldn’t let you drown...

You hope. 

You begin to rock your hips, drawing his cock out of your cunt before pressing it back in. His tip drags along your walls, almost as if he was made perfectly for your pleasure. You use your hands on his stomach for leverage as you bounce on his cock, the ridges catching on that spot deep inside of you with every drag of his cock inside of you. He’s so thick and warm and perfect. 

The idea of fucking a merman is enough to make your walls flutter, not to mention the ethereal look of him. His handsome face, his lean body, those big eyes staring up at you. There’s no emotion in them, but deep down you like to imagine there is something. If you stare at them long enough you can see into the depths of them like you’re staring into the depths of the ocean. 

You shift your position, grinding your hips against his as you lean back, resting your hands on his tail. It’s slippery and you almost slide right off of him, but you catch yourself, digging your nails into the smooth scales under your hands. He offers no complaint. You’re not capable of breaking his skin with just your nails, no matter how long they are. That doesn’t make him any less sensitive though. 

You push your hand against your stomach, feeling the deep press of him as you continue to circle your hips, trying to stave off your orgasm as long as you can. The quicker you cum, the quicker he’ll cum and then the quicker this is all over. 

You don’t want it to be over.

You push yourself back up, your thighs squeezing around his hips. You lean over him slightly, trailing your nails down his chest. He writhes under you, his hands sliding to your ass. He helps guide your movements, lifting you up and pushing you back down on his cock. 

“Yes, just like that.” You moan, pushing your hands against his stomach again as you continue to bounce on his cock. 

You’re close to your orgasm, your body starting to tremble. He’s close as well, his hips bucking up against you. Your walls are squeezing around him as you get closer and closer to the edge, your mind going numb as you try to hold back. You don’t want it to end. One orgasm is never enough. You’d fuck him all day if you could. 

If he’d let you. 

You can’t stop it though as those ridges push up against your walls, dragging over that spot inside of you. You cum with a loud cry, your back arching as your head falls back. His body writhes in the water tail splashing as he cums, the shockingly warm fluid spilling into you. You’re stretched open around his cock, hands falling against the sand beside his shoulders. 

You stare down at him, lips parted as you breathe. His own are still parted and you want to lean down and kiss him. He’ll flip you over soon, deposit you back into the water and sand before slipping back into the waves to disappear until you return to the beach again. You’ll have to put your clothes back on and head home with nothing but his cum sliding down the inside of your thighs to remind you that it really happened. 

His arms wrap around your back as you stare down into those eyes, your body pressed against his. You can see it, that...something in the depths of his eyes as you sink into them. 

It’s not love. 

It’s not. 

You just have to keep telling yourself that.

To be notified about new fics, please follow HERE and turn on notifications

[midnightcrw]

Provocative

Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader

Summary: Lucifer visits the Hazbin Hotel because his daughter called him, but there he sees a good friend he hasn't seen in a long time.

Warnings: Swearing

a/n: I know it's been a long time, but I just couldn't get myself to write anything because of my finals coming up and everything else going on. I also didn't want to write a bad third part, so I only wanted to write when I had some motivation to do so. I hope you all will like it. Part 1 / Part 2

If you had known that one day you would see Mimzy again, you would have been the most holy person in your mortal days, and unfortunately, you weren't.

And as soon as everyone in the hotel registered the short woman's appearance, Lucifer dropped his grip on your hand, looking almost fearfully at your expression, which probably said more than a thousand words.

"Why is everybody gawking? Is it cuz I'm adorable?" The woman playfully said while posing as you gritted your teeth.

And not even a second later, Alastor immediately stopped holding your hand, "Mimzy!" The happiness was more than obvious in his tone.

"Alastor, sweetie, doll face!" In your mind you were already imagining how you could break every bone in her body. "How have you been? Good? Good," she said as she put her arms around your husband.

They even squeezed each other as they made contented sounds. "You good?" Lucifer whispered in your ear as you could almost feel your eye twitch.

"Splendid," you murmured back as the Ruler of Hell continued to look at you uncertainly, but your eyes never left the pair.

"I heard you were staying at this ritzy slob factory and I figured I'd stop by, say hi! For old times sake" you hated the way she talked about Charlie's hotel as the blonde walked even closer to Alastor, if that was even possible.

"Of course, Sweetheart! Everyone is welcome here" the enthusiasm still didn't leave your husband's voice as you balled your fists tightly.

"'Everyone is welcome' my ass," Lucifer muttered hatefully, squinting his eyes at the man dressed in red.

When Charlie asked how they knew each other, you tried to hold back as best you could, you knew what was coming.

And the moment Mimzy heard the question, an even bigger smile appeared on her face "Oh yeah. We go way back."

A little too far back, you thought.

"You know, this one used to frequent the club where I used to perform. He's the only one I knew who could pound whiskey like a sailor and then keep up with me on the dance floor," her theatrics continued as she did a little dance and received a compliment from Alastor.

"Ho ho, you should have seen her in her heyday," oh, how you wished you hadn't seen her then.

You remembered everything perfectly. Mimzy and Alastor knew each other before you married him, and you met her through him.

Alastor was always a huge fan of music, especially the music that was played at the club where Mimzy used to work. And one day he had had taken you out on a date. Of course you were excited at first, you had never been to that club before, you were expecting something spectacular since your husband was always talking about it.

And oh, how spectacular it was, Mimzy practically throwing herself at your husband like it was nothing. Now, you really weren't a jealous person, but the short woman brought out the worst in you.

At first you really tried to like her, but with every backhanded compliment, you began to truly despise her more and more.

It was obvious that she had a crush on Alastor, and that crush probably never really went away, or she just wanted to get you mad by sticking to him like glue.

"Oh, oh, my stars," she made her way to Lucifer as soon as she saw him, and you immediately made your way to Alastor while she was distracted.

"You never told me she was here," you said in a snippy tone as you approached him until you and him were face to face, just with you having to look up due to his height.

"My sweet, of course Mimzy would be in hell," he only said as he looked at the chubby woman who was currently engrossed in a conversation Lucifer had no interest in.

Before you could snap at him, the annoying voice was heard once more, "No way!" Mimzy shouted loudly as she made her way towards you, deliberately swaying her hips.

And before you could prepare, the short woman hugged you tightly as she stood on her tiptoes to lean closer to you, "Still the jealous little wench, I see," she snickered as you bit your tongue.

"Ah, just like old days," Alastor's smile still remained on his face as he looked at the two of you, obviously not having heard what his friend had just said to you.

I'll show you the old days, you thought when Mimzy finally let go of you. And then you all remembered that the tour of the hotel had to continue.

"Why don't you let the others help you settle in and I'll be back before you know it," your husband said to Mimzy as he took your hand and led you to Charlie and her dad.

"Behave," Alastor whispered in your ear as his static returned and you could only scoff.

"I'm the one who should behave?! Look at you!" You whispered back, even digging your nails into the hand that was currently holding yours.

And while the tension between the two of you didn't go away, Mimzy already started talking to the others at the bar.

"How ya been, fur-ball?" She asked as she leaned her elbows against the bar, holding her face up with her hands.

"Good until five minutes ago" Husk wasn't happy about the whole situation, just like you, and it was obvious, and clearly ignoring his mood, she turned around to ask what Niffty has been up to.

"I never understood why you liked her so much," you said, keeping the frown on your face as Alastor let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around your waist while Lucifer glared at him as Charlie showed him around.

"Jealous, aren't you?" He asked with his piercing smile, having already expected this reaction from you.

"She's the last person I would be jealous of," you snapped back, but in reality you knew she was everything you were ever jealous of.

Not only was she popular, but she was beautiful and confident. All the things you couldn't see for yourself.

Suddenly, Alastor laughed, even softly, I might add, as his hand rubbed your hip, "As it should be, you have nothing to be jealous of, love," your eyes widened.

He has never called you "love" before, unless it was to get attention or to make your marriage more believable decades ago.

"Uh-huh... Thanks, pussy cat!" Mimzy said as she drank from the glass.

"Oh, fuck you" was the only thing Husk replied with as he walked away while Angel Dust made his way to the bar.

"So uh, you and Alastor are like what? Friends?"

A grin made its way across her face, "Well, that's your word, not mine, but I think it fits," Angel Dust didn't seem too convinced as he sipped from his glass, which didn't seem to make Mimzy too happy.

"Why so surprised?" She grunted as Angel Dust responded with "Well, just didn't know he had any of those. He's been here a while and is still a big, creepy mystery. I really don't know how his his wife handles him. What even is his deal?"

At the mention of you, her face fell for a split second, but she regained her composure as she began to tell them about when Alastor revealed himself as the Radio Demon.

"But underneath is all... he's a total sweetie. Put on some jazz and pour a couple fingers of rye, and he becomes a kitten!"

Sir Pentious and Angel Dust looked at her in shock, since that part didn't sound like the Overlord they knew.

And once the tour was over and they made their way back to the bar.

"There you all are! I was starting to get real bored here," Mimzy's voice was slowly starting to make you mad once more.

"Finally," Husk grunted as he wiped the glass in his hands clean while Mimzy continued to talk.

"I bet she was the reason it took so long," obviously referring to you as she glared, "Nothing's been the same since the marriage," the short woman ranted, while you rolled your eyes at her as you suddenly felt Alastor's hand graze your back.

Looking up at him, his eyes were a fraction softer for once, as you couldn't look away.

"Since the marriage?" Lucifer asked, clearly confused as to what was being discussed.

"Their marriage, of course," Mimzy said with disgust in her voice as she nodded towards you and Alastor.

"You're married?!" Lucifer yelled as you flinched at the sudden loudness, while Alastor rubbed your arm in reassurance.

Fuck... you thought.

Taglist

@l0ca1ax010t1

@itsmskeisha

@nightlydream

@randomuser-89

@explosionkatsu

@nonetheartist

@anuttellaa

@angelxx7

@karolinda007-blog

@fairyv-ice

@chewbrry

@cryptidghostgirl

@harmfulb1tch

@crowleysthings

@fandomfan-102

@readergirlstuff

@wendds

@lucifers-silhouette

@droopingdatura

[wayward-dreamer]

Playing With Fate

Square/s filled: "You need to get your strength back" @anyfandomkinkbingo (quote in bold) |

Pairing: Demon!Dean x F!Reader

Word count: 3,545

Summary: Y/N offers to help with the search for Dean after he becomes a demon and leaves the bunker. Her plan doesn't go the way she intended, but that didn't mean it wasn't a desired outcome.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, smut: dirty talk, oral sex (male receiving), vaginal fingering, hair pulling, choking, spanking, dacryphilia, degradation, dubcon, rough sex, mirror sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up people), squirting, I think that's it, but lmk if I missed anything!

A/N: Please blame the s10 rewatch I was in the middle of for this. I take no responsibility for the level of horny everyone's going to be after this lmao... Also, I've done things a little differently with this one, so I hope y'all enjoy! As always thanks to my loves @hintsofhoney and @makeadealwithdean for betaing this. Don't know where I'd be without either of you <3

What the fuck am I doing?

That was the first thought that entered Y/N’s mind, but it was fleeting, disappearing as she looked up at Dean from her submissive position on her knees, her mouth wrapped tight around his thick girth as her hands pressed into the muscle of his bare thighs. His gaze was intense, green orbs that occasionally gave way to solid black, something she had never anticipated would arouse her the way it had from the first moment he revealed them to her. He caressed her hollowed cheeks with his thumb, his other hand in her hair as her head bobbed back and forth, taking his length deep into her throat. It soon wasn’t enough for him, his grip tightening in her strands as he held her still, his pelvis smacking vigorously against her. Saliva dripped in long strings around her mouth as he chuckled, relishing in the way she choked and gagged around him, the glugging of her throat adding to the pleasurable cacophony that reached his ears.

Tears pricked her eyes as she moaned and spluttered around his shaft, her own thighs squeezing together to keep her arousal at bay for a moment. He noticed the way she squirmed, the way her flesh pressed tightly, the signs of her need obvious to him. He drew back from her throat, a harsh gasp leaving as her lungs burned, her chest heaving as she sucked in air and met his gaze.

“Spread your legs, sweetheart,” he ordered, grinning as he wiped her saliva around her lips. “Want that pussy of yours as wet as your mouth, got it?”

“Y-Yes,” she stuttered, nodding weakly.

“Yes what?” he growled, tugging at the roots of her hair and making her whimper.

“Yes sir,” she added, staring up at him.

The smirk never left his face as he thrusted into her waiting mouth once more. Following his instruction and opening her legs, her fingers moving between them and finding her clit already lightly covered in her wetness. She moaned wantonly as she circled the swollen nub, her eyes fluttering with the euphoria that coursed through her. Not only at the feeling of her hand between her legs, but at the way he was using her, and the shame of willingly letting him fading away with every plunge of his cock into her throat.

This hadn’t been the plan when she first found him. Far from it, in fact.

When Sam had called her with the location of the bar Dean had been frequenting, she had full intention of stepping in and setting him straight. He had warned her about Dean being a demon now, something that had happened several weeks before and which she chastised him for not telling her sooner. She could’ve helped and maybe with their “geek brains” together, as the elder Winchester liked to call them, they could’ve found him sooner. She wished she had known; her and Dean were friends, and she hated the fact that she hadn’t been there for him.

Friends were supposed to look out for each other. Especially those types of friends that were sometimes, on occasion, more than that.

Nevertheless, Sam said he would join her but she insisted on doing this alone, not listening to his protests and telling him to call her back once he had found Dean’s whereabouts.

When Y/N walked into that dive and took a seat at the bar, her eyes immediately found him. There he sat, at a table in the middle of the room, whiskey tumbler in hand. He didn’t look any different to the normal Dean she knew, not even when a blonde waitress came over to him and handed him another glass, draping her arm across his broad shoulders. She shrugged it off, now wasn’t the time to get jealous. She ordered herself a whiskey too, taking it and facing the room, crossing one leg over the other which allowed her denim skirt to ride up her thigh. That along with a tight, black tank top and black heeled ankle boots were her attire for the night; completely different to the usual hunter gear she’d be wearing but she needed something to catch his eye.

And sure enough, it did.

Dean had always had a higher level of awareness thanks to being a hunter, but after becoming a demon it had become a sixth sense. A familiar energy caught his attention as soon as it stepped into the room, his head lifting up to meet Y/N’s eyes as she stared back at him. He hadn’t seen her for a while, and if she was here that meant Sam had gotten to her. He had the initial thought of sending her on her way as he stood up, but as he made his way over to her, caught the way her thighs pressed together where they were crossed, he knew he could have some fun with her.

A grin pulled at his face as he gazed down at her, seeing her perfect mouth taking his intimidating length with each thrust, and he was glad that he had been right. It had been a long time since they had been together like this, and it was clear that he hadn’t taken advantage of their situation as often as he should have from the way she was working her tongue around him. She was unmistakably desperate to please him, to be with him in any way possible, even if he did have a new set of black eyes.

He had no problem exploiting that fact.

“Look so good choking on my cock, baby,” he groaned, holding her down against his pelvis.

His hand tightened in her hair once more and pulled her off his cock again, a dark chuckle escaping him as he heard her shuddering breath. Saliva hung off the edge of her chin, dripping onto the swell of her breasts, her eyes wide as she waited obediently for whatever he had planned for her next.

“Stand in front of the mirror,” he instructed, glancing up at the corner of the room before looking back at her. “Want you to see yourself losing control while I fuck you.”

Y/N somehow found the strength to stand from her position on the floor, the burning in her limbs only adding to the fire that was rising within her with each staggered step towards the mirror. Her appearance reflecting back to her was already a mess; her hair tangled in certain places, saliva drying and hardening at the edges of her mouth. As she spread her legs and curled her hands on either side of the frame, Dean stepped up behind her, calloused fingers sliding down the smooth skin of her back. Their eyes briefly met in the mirror before his gaze shifted down, following the movement of his hands as they admired the curve of her ass, a groan escaping him as his thumb grazed her puckered hole down to the sticky, wet warmth of her folds. She gasped as she felt the thick digit slide back and forth, no doubt wetting his skin as her arousal grew and dripped from her sex.

“So fucking wet,” he muttered, more to himself than to her, but he finally left his eyes and addressed her again. “Ready to take my cock, aren’t ya?”

Her lack of response earned her a heavy hand against the flesh of her ass, causing a yelp to escape her. Her eyes widened as they made contact with his, narrowed and glaring at her through the mirror. He had barely done anything to her and she was already overwhelmed by his actions. Her mind was caught somewhere between not knowing how much more she could take, and wanting to take everything he had to give. Now that he was a demon, she had no idea how much that was, but she was more than willing to find out.

His hand came down twice more in quick succession, making her jolt forward as she shrieked. The sting was intense but delicious as the sensation spread through her whole body, and she knew this was only the beginning.

“You better be fucking ready for me, sweetheart. ‘Cause I ain’t holding back.”

The implication of his words was clear. He wasn’t the Dean she knew anymore, and she shouldn’t expect him to be.

A brief nod was all she could muster as an answer to his earlier question, and that was all he needed. He brought his thumb to his mouth, glistening with her wetness as his plump lips wrapped around it. He kept his gaze on the reflection in front of him, their eyes locked as she breathed heavily, a groan leaving him as he sucked at the digit and took hold of his shaft, rubbing it through her folds. It wasn’t the first time she had seen him do that; taste her off his fingers,  but it hit differently now.

Before she could register what was happening, he lined himself to her entrance and slammed into her, her walls sheathing his thickness completely as a ragged moan fell from her lips.

The sound was a harsh contrast to the soft whimper that she had tried to suppress when he sat down in front of her at the bar, flagging down the bartender and ordering himself another whiskey. He turned to her, his eyes taking her in as they roamed down her frame, an eyebrow lifting in approval at her low cut top and the way her skirt had ridden up slightly, exposing more of her thigh as she sat.

“Didn’t think Sammy would send someone else to do his job,” he started, sipping his whiskey once it was in front of him. “Guess he’s losing practice without me, huh?”

“He didn’t send me,” she clarified, trying to remain firm in his presence. “And there’s a quick fix for that. Just come home.”

He scoffed, chuckling as he dropped his head and shook it. “No fucking way.”

The bite and careless lilt of his laugh and words stung, but she couldn’t dwell on it.

“Dean, this isn’t you,” she reasoned.

“Oh, but it is, Y/N,” he countered, as he turned on the bar stool and leaned his forearms back on the bar, his eyes never leaving her. “It’s the new me.”

Green irises flashed to solid black, holding her gaze long enough for a fear she had never experienced before to run down her back. Along with another strange yet familiar feeling between her legs. Strange because this wasn’t the time or place for it. As his eyes quickly returned to normal, Y/N’s jaw clenched as she stared up at him.

“Dean, look, you don’t have any options here,” she stated, pushing her drink aside and reaching into the left pocket of her denim skirt. “You’re coming with me back to the bunker, and Sam’s gonna get to work on curing you. End of discussion.”

Dean sipped his drink as he watched her take out a pair of silver handcuffs, devil’s traps carved into them. He slowly placed his drink down as he smirked, his gaze shifting from them up to her. “I think those are gonna look better on you tonight, sweetheart.”

She rolled her eyes, but she knew they weren’t as effective as usual. He was getting under her skin and they both knew it. From her other pocket, she pulled out the top of a flask as she stared up at him, waiting for him to look back at her as he glanced down.

“Don’t make this harder-” she started but his sinister scoff stopped her.

His green eyes, that once held so much admiration for her, were now void of any kind of emotion as he finally looked at her. Slowly, the shift almost imperceptible, his face hovered an inch away from hers.  “I thought you liked it hard, Y/N. Hard… fast… so rough you wanna feel that ache between your legs for days.”

A shuddered exhale fell from her lips, one she hadn’t realized she had been holding, causing him to chuckle.

“So how ‘bout you stop wastin’ your breath on this back and forth,” he continued, gesturing between them as a smirk spread across his face. “And admit that you’re real curious to know what it’s like to get fucked by a demon.”

Their gazes remained locked as he tested the waters; tested whether temptation would coax her into letting him corrupt her for no other reason than pleasurable amusement. He saw the way fear, guilt and thirst circled in the depths of her eyes, and he hoped it was the last of those that would win.

As Dean peered into those eyes once again, through the mirror’s reflection, he saw all of those things give way to euphoria as he pounded deep into the tight heat between her thighs.

Y/N barely recognized the face staring back at her. Hooded eyes, her mouth agape as a string of erotic noises escaped her with every slap of his hips against the curve of her ass. He had been right. She did enjoy sex when it was harder, faster, so rough that she felt the constant throb at the apex of her thighs. The Dean she knew was well aware of that fact, and this Dean, this… twisted version of him was using that to his full advantage. She wasn’t sure if she was willingly letting him, or if he was coercing her into this sinful act, but it was bliss.

A heavy hand slid up her back and into the strands of her hair, pulling harshly as his sweat slicked chest pressed up against her. His breath fanned over her ear and cheek as they stared at each other. A loud, lustful cry erupted from between her lips as the head of his cock drove deeper into her at this new angle, reaching places within her that hadn’t been explored in a long time. A tear brimmed at the corner of her waterline, rolling down slowly as another followed from the other, her thoughts as overwhelmed as her body by everything she was feeling. He laughed in her ear, the sound wicked as it rumbled from his chest against her back, watching the tears make tracks on her face.

Dean leaned down, the tip of his tongue slipping out between his pouty lips and dragging over the skin, the tang against his taste buds making him groan. Her eyes widened in disbelief, but her core tightened within arousal from the act.

“So fucking hot seeing you like this,” he whispered against her ear. “Just mine to use. You can’t lie to me, Y/N. I can see it in your eyes, can feel it from the way you’re squeezing around me. You love my cock inside this tight, little pussy. You don’t care anymore that I’m a demon, do ya?”

Y/N couldn’t remember the words she had spoken in agreement to leave the bar with him. All she could remember was his hands on her hips, pushing her up against the brick wall, rough lips fused to hers as his thumbs played at the strip of skin exposed between her top and her skirt. All she could recall was the way his fingers slipped under the hem, making her breath hitch as they danced over the flesh of her inner thigh and pulled her thong aside, moving between her folds.

He smirked into the kiss, pulling away and looking deep into her eyes. “So wet already, sweetheart. My black eyes got somethin’ to do with this?”

“No,” she whimpered, trying to remain defiant but she was flailing.

The amused grin he had given her in response then matched the way he was staring back at her through the mirror at that moment.

“N-no,” she moaned, a small smile playing on her lips. “I don’t care anymore…”

Her words had somehow emboldened the pace of his thrusts, the scream silenced in her throat as his calloused fingers wrapped over it tight, his other hand groping at her breasts as he slammed into her. Her own hands struggled to hold herself steady against the mirror, the frame shaking from the brutal force of his hips smacking against her. Her walls clenched around his girth, causing sounds only akin to a feral animal to come from him right against the shell of her ear. Along with the loud squelch between her legs and her own choked moans, she knew it wouldn’t be much longer before she fell over the edge into the deepest depths of hell with him.

No matter how heavenly it felt to have him inside her, she knew she was headed for the fiery pit for what she was doing. It was debauchery at its finest, and yet she couldn’t care less.

Y/N wasn’t sure when it happened. Maybe it was the short walk from the bar across the street to the motel, maybe it was when they stepped through the door, or when they stripped each other of their clothes as their kiss became as heated as their frenzied touches. Maybe it was when she fell to her knees in front of him and wondered what the fuck she was doing, allowing a demon, something she hunted on a regular basis, to invade her every thought and sensation. Even if it was a man she knew very well, it had been wrong.

But it had also never felt so right.

The familiar pull in her core had her eyes squeeze shut, but a tug from Dean’s hand in her hair had them opening again. He made her watch their sinful actions in the mirror once more, as he felt her walls like vice around him.

“Such a good slut just for me,” he groaned, nipping her earlobe. “You’re all mine now, right?”

The lewd moan that escaped her wasn’t enough of an answer for him, as his hand cracked against the globe of her ass, causing her to shriek.

“Tell me,” he growled.

“I-I’m yours,” she finally replied, her voice sounding like a stranger’s from how hoarse it was.

“Damn right,” he grunted.

Her eyes rolled back as her air was still cut off by his heavy grip on her throat, but suddenly it dropped to grip her hips tightly with both hands, as his own began to falter with each frantic thrust. Her lungs burned as short breaths left her, moans turning into loud cries of his name as she reached that euphoric peak, her body convulsing as a stream of liquid gushed down her thigh, pushing his cock out as her wetness spurted against the mirror and dripped onto the carpeted floor. Her chest heaved as she breathed harshly, her vision blurred and unable to focus.

Dean took hold of his shaft, slicked up by her release and pumped his hand back and forth, expletives and groans falling from his parted lips as his cock pulsed in his grip. With one last tug, the veins in his neck strained as he let out a strangled grunt, his eyes flashing to solid black as ropes of his release shot over the small of her back. He grinned as he looked at her with those demon eyes she had found herself aroused by, and she smiled back slightly.

This was definitely not how tonight was supposed to go.

“Fuck, that was hot,” he muttered, grabbing her by her shoulders to steady her.

“Yeah,” was all she managed to push past her heavy breaths as she came down from her high.

“Well, I’m good to go again, but,” he smirked as his eyes flashed back to green irises. “You need to get your strength back.”

Y/N was taken aback by the concern, but she knew better than to assume it was for any other reason than needing her recharged for another round. He moved away from her, but not before smacking her ass once more as he walked away. She stumbled to the edge of the bed, still able to see herself in the mirror, her hand admiring the scratches and bruises forming along her skin. With a strangely content sigh, she fell back against the bed, unbothered by his cum sticking between her and the sheets underneath. She glanced to the side as he sat down next to her, his hand roaming over her body, fingers flicking over her nipple, making her moan softly.

“Take five, sweetheart, ‘cause I ain’t done with you yet.”

She bit her lip as she looked away from him, staring up at the ceiling. She heard a small buzz from her phone in the pocket of skirt, but made no move to search for it on the floor. It was no doubt Sam, texting for an update on how things were going. This was definitely a unique way of laying a trap, certainly not one she was planning, but at least this way Dean would never suspect that she had him right where she wanted him this whole time.

She’d let Sam know where she was eventually. She just wanted to enjoy playing with her own fate a little more.

[villainousauthor]

Hero continues to rock the wailing infant, trying to shush her. It's been hours, and still they haven't been able to get her to calm down. Nothing has worked, not a bottle, a diaper change, nothing.

Hero places their hand against her small forehead, checking for a fever, maybe. They feel so beyond their depth right now. Hero's barely slept the past day, and they're dead on their feet, eyes barely staying open.

"I wish you could just tell me what's wrong. This is so frustrating." Hero whines, still bouncing the crying infant.

"It's unfortunate, most babies can't talk." The familiar voice comes from behind, and Hero whirls around defensively to see Villain standing in the doorway of the nursery.

"What are you doing here?" Hero demands, clutching their child closer.

"You haven't come to fight me in months. I've sent out clear messages-"

"You mean constantly blowing up buildings and taking people hostage?" Hero interrupts, still holding their baby close to their chest.

"-but you never came. I was starting to think you died," Villain finishes eloquently. "I can see now that you've been a bit busy." They take a step closer, and Hero takes another step back, trying to keep distance.

This was bad. Hero very much intended that no one would know about their child, enemies especially. They could feel anxiety rising in their chest, clawing at their throat.

Villain eyes their movement before speaking again. "Shame, I would have sent a gift if I'd known. Who's the other parent?" Their eyes shoot back up to Hero's as they ask.

"No one. She's mine, her other parent is irrelevant." Hero says defensively. The baby continues to cry, face red.

Villain looks over the both of them, humming as they consider this. "So you're doing this alone. How long have you been up for?"

The question seems harmless, and yet Hero hesitates, still not trusting Villain. The way they ask though, seems simply curious.

"...A few hours now. I can't get her to sleep." Hero finally says quietly.

Villain steps closer again, this time slowly, as if to not worry Hero. "I can tell," They snort, but the words are soft, "You look completely exhausted."

"Jeez thanks-"

"May I try?" Villain asks, voice gentle. Hero looks at them like they've grown three heads. The very idea that Hero would hand their child over to Villain is so beyond ridiculous, that they can't believe they asked.

Vilain sees their expression and rolls their eyes. "I'm not going to do anything to harm her. I know you'd kick my ass if I even tried. I'm good with kids, and you look like you're going to fall over any minute."

They step even closer and lift a finger to the small baby, which she grabs with her chubby little hand. Villain chuckles at the sight.

Hero watches, eyes fighting to stay open. Villain is right, they do feel like they're on the verge of collapse any moment. Arms are heavy from continuously rocking the baby, legs feel like jello.

"Okay, you can hold her for a moment. But I swear to everything that if you do anything to harm her, your body will end scattered in tiny pieces across the country." Hero warns, their voice more deadly than it's ever been with Villain.

Villain simply smiles as they reach out for the baby. "I wouldn't expect anything less." They take her in their arms, holding her comfortably. Hero immediately collapses down into the nearby rocking chair.

They rock her in their arms like it's the most natural thing in the world. Hero watches on in surprise as she starts to calm down somewhat, though she's still fussy. The lack of wailing level crying is a godsend though.

"How in the world.." Hero asks, amazed at the sight.

Villain grabs a pacifier off the near by changing table, giving it to the infant. She accepts it easily and finally settles down.

"I told you I'm really good with kids. Plus babies just like me," They say as they look down at the infant in their arms with the most genuine smile Hero has ever seen, "Also have you considered that she might be teething?"

Hero raises an eyebrow before yawning suddenly. "Ah..no I haven't. I'm new to this, and I feel like I'm learning as I go along..."

"It probably doesn't help that you don't have any help either. Why don't you rest for a bit while I hold her?" Villain suggests, noticing how on the verge of falling asleep they are. "I promise I'll stay right here, and she'll be okay. You should get some sleep."

"I'm not so sure about that..." Hero replies, though their head is already starting to sag. "How'd you get so good with kids anyways?" They ask, their eyes beginning to flutter.

Villain chuckles quietly. "You don't get to unlock my tragic back story that easily." But Hero is already asleep, passed out over in the chair. Villain continues to hold the baby as they drap a small blanket over Hero.

[bunnyreaper]

the universe gives you a second chance with soap.

(18+/MDNI, mentions of MCD, mwiii spoilers, multiverse, 09 soap)

It's strange to see Johnny, Soap with a cigar hanging from his lips--though it's even stranger to see him older, especially when you didn't get to grow older together. That's what he always said.

"Wanna be like you when I grow up, LT."

"Lass, if we're still single when we're grown..."

You never did get to tell him how you really feel, felt. Yet just as he was ripped away from you by that bullet, the strangest thing happened--a rip in time and space had given you a second chance.

Captain MacTavish can feel you staring, even if he's doing an expert job of pretending otherwise. He'd given you a wry smile when you'd joined him at the railing, and offered you a puff of the thick cigar which you subsequently had refused.

You've only known this Soap for a matter of weeks, and slowly but surely you'd been making progress in getting to know him all over again, and letting him get to know you.

It's clear from his knitted brows and the heaviness of the air that there's something on his mind. With Johnny, the silence never lasted too long, his brooding only extending a few moments before he'd be spilling his heart out, at least when it comes to you.

"I'm not him." Soap cuts in, his gruffer voice startling you.

His words are so resolute and firm--and you wonder how long he's been holding in that thought, dwelling on your expectations.

It seems no one around base had been quiet about the close relationship you and Johnny had, and clearly someone had clued him into your not-so-secret feelings.

"I know." You nod, swallowing and trying to deal with the bile rising in your throat, and the thought that you'd lost this version of him too before your second chance, could even begin.

You pluck up the courage, the courage you were missing before--though your voice is small and uncertain. "But, I can't help but think the universe put you here for a reason."

That draws his attention, steely blue eyes fixed firmly on you. Each second stretches on, each breath bringing in a wave of heartache that you desperately wish to go away.

"And ye think that reason is you?" His eyebrow quirks and his lips part, flashing a hint of that youth you're so used to seeing, that you miss so dearly.

"Maybe? Probably stupid of me to think that." You mutter, unable to hold his gaze any longer. That's what you want to believe. Johnny can't get a second chance at life, not really, but you selfishly get a second chance at being with the man you loved.

As close as you'll ever get other than weeping over an empty grave.

You're pulled out of your thoughts by a finger nudging up your chin, bringing your head back up so the man before you can meet your eyes once more. That familiar spark shines within.

"I dinnae know ye that well, but looking at ye... Aye, I'd think it was trying to tell me something too."

[stylesluxx]

wildflower – a.hotchner

[warnings: self doubt, relationship doubt, angst]

summary: in which y/n doubts her spot in hotch’s heart – inspired by wildflower by billie eilish

word count: 825

main masterlist

You've always known that Aaron had a love before you. It's impossible not to—Haley was a part of his life through so many milestones for many years. He's never talked about her in-depth, but the memories surround him, a lingering presence that never quite fades. Some days, you catch the look in his eyes, far away, like he's somewhere else entirely. And every time it happens, you can't help but wonder if it's Haley he's thinking of.

It's been a couple of years since her death, and though Aaron has moved forward, there's a part of him that you fear might still be anchored to the past. That maybe, you're not enough to replace what he lost. You've tried to ignore it, tried to convince yourself that your worries are unfounded, but the thought lingers.

Tonight, it's especially strong. You're sitting on the couch with Aaron, his hand resting on your knee as you watch a movie together. But his mind isn't here. You can tell by the way his gaze flickers, unfocused, staring at the screen but not really seeing it. It happens more often than you'd like to admit, and each time it sends a twinge of insecurity through you.

"Where are you?" you ask softly, trying to keep your voice light. He looks at you, startled as if he didn't realize you were speaking.

"I'm here," he says, offering you a small smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

But you're not convinced. You've been holding this in for so long, pretending that everything's fine, but tonight, you can't help yourself. The words spill out before you can stop them.

"Are you, though? Because sometimes it feels like...like you're somewhere else. Like you're still thinking about her."

Aaron's expression shifts, his smile fading as he turns to face you fully. He opens his mouth to speak, but you can't stop now. The floodgates are open.

"I get it, Aaron. I know how much she meant to you, how much you loved her. But sometimes I wonder if you still...if you still love her. And I know that's unfair of me, because how could you not? She was your wife, the mother of your child, and she was taken from you in such a horrible way. But where does that leave me? Am I just here to fill a void?"

He's silent, his brows furrowing as he processes your words. The air between you feels heavy, thick with the weight of what you've just admitted. You hate yourself for saying it, for pushing him when you know how much he's been through, but the fear has been gnawing at you for so long, that you couldn't hold it in anymore.

Finally, Aaron speaks, his voice low but steady. "You're not filling a void."

You look at him, surprised by the conviction in his tone. He leans forward, his hand tightening around yours.

"I'll always care about Haley. She'll always be a part of me because she's part of Jack's life. But I'm not in love with her anymore. I haven't been for a long time, even before she died."

His words make your heart stutter. "You haven't?"

"No," he says softly, his thumb brushing against your hand. "When I met you, I didn't know I was ready to love someone again. But you've given me something I didn't think I'd ever have. You gave me hope, and you've made me feel alive again. I don't look back at what I had with Haley and wish it were still here. I look forward with you."

Tears prick your eyes at his words, the weight of your insecurity beginning to lift. But still, there's a lingering doubt, one you're almost afraid to voice.

"But do you...do you regret it? That you're with me now?"

Aaron shakes his head firmly. "Never. I'm with you because I want to be. After all, I love you. You're my future, not my past."

He cups your cheek, his touch gentle but grounding, and you lean into his palm, the warmth of his hand seeping into your skin. His gaze is soft, and earnest, as he brushes away the tear that slips down your cheek.

"I'm sorry if I've ever made you feel like you're second to Haley," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "That was never my intention. I love you. Only you."

You close your eyes, letting his words wash over you, their truth sinking in. You know he's being honest, that his heart is yours, but a part of you also knows that love doesn't erase the past. And maybe that's okay. Maybe love is about accepting that there will always be echoes of what came before, but choosing to move forward together, despite them.

When you open your eyes, Aaron is still watching you, waiting for you to say something. You reach up, covering his hand with yours as you press a kiss to his palm.

"I love you too," you whisper.

And for the first time in a long while, you believe that it's enough. You're enough.

[AN: I want to start posting multiple times a week but idk how I want to schedule that yet. maybe every 3 days? also I was supposed to post this days ago but forgot to queue it … AND AS YOU GUYS ARE READING THIS IM OMW TO MY SECOND ERAS TOUR SHOW HEHE. anyway, here's my taglist]

[windvexer]

dealing with a nonthreatening entity in your home, if you can't easily communicate with spirits

just how I'd do it, the flowchart I'd personally work with, UPG ahead, etc; take what you like and leave the rest behind.

Nonthreatening: An entity which hasn't harmed you or tried to harm you, or isn't an active threat to you or your household, even if they may have acted in unpleasant or disruptive ways.

Dealing with: Sorting out the situation so that you feel comfortable with what's going on.

This post is about resolving a spirit situation in your home that you're uncomfortable with. It's not a general guide on spirit work, and it's not a recommendation for how to treat all spirits in all situations.

Banishing should probably not be a first step when dealing with an unwanted/surprise/unexpected spirit, or learning that a spirit exists where you didn't expect to be one.

Ideally, for the diplomatic spirit worker who wants to be regarded well by the otherworlds, several other steps come first.

Decide what you'd ideally like to do

Ideally, do you want the spirit to leave completely?

Never interact with you or make its presence known?

Hang around as long as it doesn't bother room mates or pets?

Integrate into the household and be a spirit room mate?

Become a part of your spirit family?

Etc!

Not saying you'll get your wish but it's a good idea to sit down and figure yourself out before you go and start moderating the life of an entity.

Like if your actual feeling is, "I do not want this guy here and I won't be comfortable in my home unless he leaves," then don't set out on purpose to make the guy a spirit home and give him house rules. Skip to the endgame step of asking him to leave.

Check on wards and protections before you take action

Not trying to be an alarmist but every now and then a random guy ends up being a big jerk, and in that situation the preferable option is to have just checked up on what tools you have on hand.

If you can communicate with spirits

Talk it out 👍 you may have to make compromises, especially if you're working with Big Guys who have a say in things, but by and large I find that if you can make the spirit a nice little house in a place they like and some solid house rules, a lot of situations are going to be resolved real fast.

If things go tits up, banishing.

If you can't easily perceive/2-way communicate with spirits

When perception isn't easy/possible, take reasonable steps and wait to see what happens.

If the stuff that was bothering you is resolved, count that as a win 👍

If you're still encountering problems, take the next step; do this until you've exhausted all options, and then move to banishing.

When you take actions, clearly affirm your intentions and expectations. Do not invite open-ended conversations that you can't participate in.

🛑 "If this spirit house isn't suitable for you, please try to let me know. I'll see what I can do to change it."

✅ "I've made this spirit house for you. Please make use of it according to your desires, but move on to another property if it isn't to your liking."

Set or review house rules

This isn't a comprehensive guide, but all you've really got to do is write down a list of rules, ritually read it off, and then stick the list somewhere you won't lose it.

A lot of spirit problems can be resolved by establishing solid house rules

A lot of panic about powerful spirits and faulty wards can be resolved by fixing accidental loopholes

Get your rules lawyer friend to help troubleshoot

E.g., "uninvited spirits aren't welcome here." Is a spirit still uninvited if you carry it in while it's inside of an object? It can get a bit tedious but it's a miracle spirits can understand human language at all, much less the miles between what you actually desire to occur versus what gets codified.

If a new spirit arrives or behavior occurs that you think is against your house rules, review your rules to see if there could be a loophole. Then, 'set' them again by re-reading them in a ritual setting. During that time, specifically ask the spirit to stop its bothersome behavior.

Divination or consulting with other practitioner friends can really help troubleshoot house rules.

Popular house rules include things like:

Don't mess with my dreams or sleep

Don't scare or make yourself known to house members or pets

Never go into my bedroom

Don't interfere with my spells or ritual workings, even if you're trying to help or protect me

Wait for a little while and see if that resolves things.

Make the guy his own little house

A spirit bothering someone isn't always them just being mischievous. Active spirits who roam around the house bored as hell can accidentally make themselves known. And ordering a bored guy to never do anything fun isn't necessarily a recipe for a happy household.

Make the guy a nice little area with some things to enjoy, especially little fidget toys and shiny stuff, and invite him to dwell in that area and make use of the enjoyable things.

This doesn't need to be in the shape of an actual miniature house.

Crochet basket, thermos with the lid popped open, desk organizer, pile of little cloths, small box with or without a lid, old jar, plastic tub, books stacked to make a nice private corner, etc.

Include a soft bed, which can take the form of comfortable cloths or a nice little pillow you crochet, etc.

Include things the spirit might like or use, such as coins, a fidget spinner, a mini rubix cube, a sun catcher, etc.

Spice it up by decorating it all nicely and including pretty things, like a nice printed silk scarf, a paint job or facade on the container, or lovely objects placed nearby.

Focus on privacy - give the guy somewhere to go so he can relax and unwind, and not constantly be bothered by people.

Most vitally, ensure that the spirit house won't be disrupted. Don't place or design it so that children or unwitting partners might "tidy it up" or take it down and play with it.

You don't have to do a big ritual cleansing or consecration or whatever.

Invite the guy to dwell there. Enter magical headspace or initiate ritual communication in whatever method you prefer.

"My guy, I see you are a part of the household. I've made you this house to use if you want to. Either way, bothering my partner has got to stop. If I need to talk to you for anything, I'll come back to this location. Anything I leave right next to the house is for you."

If the guy is stuck to an object, take that object somewhere nice

Learning how to bind a spirit to an object is a valuable skill for a witch. Sometimes nature does the job for you and the spirit is bound to an object on arrival.

Move that bad boy to a nice location, possibly to a spirit house you build, or maybe outside, even at a faraway location (I've left a few spirit vessels up the mountain, myself).

Make sure to positively affirm that you are taking this action to help the spirit, and your goal is to put it in a nice location.

Sit down with the dude and tell him to knock that shit off regardless of house rules

Presumably we're at this point because the spirit is still around, you don't want to actually tell him to get out, but something is happening that isn't working for you.

Despite the sarcastic section header, it's actually probably wise for you to own up to your own role in the situation.

Most spirits aren't jerks or stupid. They may be trying their best to interpret your words and behaviors.

You may be being unintentionally confusing or contradictory.

You may be laying down rapidfire changes that's making the spirit nervous or confused.

Your own magic may be creating barriers or impossibilities in the spirit world that prevent them from doing what you're asking.

They may be reacting to unseen situations you're completely unaware of.

A little humility goes a long way in soothing the waters.

Go to the guy's spirit house, if he has one, or otherwise go to where he's known to dwell; or, go to your usual working area. Enter magical headspace or initiate ritual communication.

Say something like,

"Hey, I need these very specific things to change. I don't mind you staying here, but it's my responsibility to care for this household, and I can't have this happening. If you are unable to stop doing this, I must politely request that you leave this household and find a new place to dwell."

(Note: If you're trying to cultivate psychism and want to be a spirit worker and so on, this is a great juncture to actually invite communication in whatever form might come - even if that communication comes slowly over days or weeks. But if that's not your jam for the present situation, you don't have to.)

(Maybe a controversial take, but you have a responsibility to do your best to do right by the spirits. We all have our limits and you also have a duty to your household, but if the reality is "I can't perceive or get input from spirits," you're limited in what you can do. Acting fairly and taking reasonable, diplomatic steps can sometimes be the best you can do.)

Ask the guy to leave

Enter magical headspace or initiate ritual communication.

"I'm sorry, but this isn't working out. I hold no ill-will towards you, but you must now depart and find a new dwelling outside of this property and this home.

It might be a good idea to invite him into a little vessel and then take that somewhere nice, but far away.

You can cleanse and bless a river rock and invite the guy to move in there, and then go take that somewhere you think is nice, or even just near a new apartment complex where he could find other residences, etc. I often find the vibes when transporting a spirit vessel to be very strong and they can be very opinionated about where they want to be left.

If you transport a spirit vessel to a new location, consider bringing a small offering (like a pinch of tobacco, or some bottled water) and pouring them out near the vessel in dedication to the spirit.

Announce that you're parting ways in good faith, and if you should ever meet again, that it will be in peace.

If all that fails, banishing is next

[kikitakite]

I saw your callout in the Gale tag for that one user (no comment on them, tho ty for the callout bc i'd seen them in the notes of my fics) and was curious if you could elaborate on some of the Mystra incidents you described towards the end of the post? I'm new to the lore of the setting and find it hard to research (which makes sense given its importance to dnd), so I've heard a lot of conflicting things about Mystra's portrayal in the wider series. No pressure, obviously!

No problem! And yea, I've seen her arguing in the posts of a few people I follow or just Gale-related posts I find interesting. Usually I don't get involved in stuff like this, but I noticed a constant pattern and then all the homophobic shit so I went off a little.

Unfortunately it's hard to find exact examples of the Mystra lore because certain modules aren't very popular or even free to access, but if you're interested the best way to learn about her is by reading the Elminster novels. There's twelve total, dating all the way back to 1994, and they detail Elminster's adventures. I'll be honest though, some of them are a hard read and written through the lens of a man who's admitted very creative, but also has a lot of problematic ideas.

In the first book Elminster is a child. His entire town gets wiped out by mages, thereby making him hostile toward magic. He sneaks into Mystra's temple to deface her statue one night, but she appears before him and basically gaslights him into learning magic and becoming her rare Chosen. He becomes a wizard and cleric basically overnight, until eventually he multiclasses into pretty much every class type in DnD. As you can imagine a lot of players aren't too fond of Elminster, as he's a well known self-insert of the author and pretty annoying to run into during campaigns. None of my dungeon masters like him anyway.

He also becomes one of Mystra's most loyal followers, but she fucks with him over and over, turning him into a woman to teach him a lesson and SLEEPING with him in that form, berating him when he struggles with the torture he endures when he gets stuck in the hells, making him reproduce without his knowledge and getting jealous when he gives his partners more attention. Because she's a very jealous goddess, which I think the game vaguely touches on but not really.

I wish I had the time to flip through all the novels and give exact citations but the best I can do is suggest them, because they're so eye opening. She's considered a neutral good goddess, but neutral gods often do terrible things for the sake of their domain. I think it needs to be noted that Mystra, as with all gods in the pantheon, only cares about her portfolio. She isn't wrong for that, but it doesn't mean she's blameless when she messes with people's lives. She's done a lot of good but she's also made horrible decisions, especially where her followers are concerned.

For example, Elminster having children he doesn't know about. He has a daughter named Narnra. Her conception was... pretty fucked up. Basically a song dragon named Ammaratha Cyndusk was an occasional lover of Elminster's (he has a lot of those because of course he does) and she wanted to bear his child, but since he's a Chosen of Mystra he can control his fertility. Magic birth control, basically. He didn't want a kid so Ammaratha went behind his back to learn a counterspell that would make him fertile during sex. The man she asked refused to teach her because...duh that's messed up, but then Mystra intervened and told him to teach her the spell because she wanted Elminster's "seed to spread". Ammaratha never told him and neither did Mystra. No matter what the reasons, that was NOT consensual on Elminster's part, and it happened two more times, resulting in two more daughters with different women. If I remember correctly Elminster did eventually find out waaaaay later when they were all adults, but it never amounted to anything.

The sisters I was taking about are the Seven Sisters, Mystra's "daughters". And I put "daughters" in quotations because Mystra possessed the body of a woman named Elué and impregnated her without her consent. She slept with the woman's husband (again, while possessing her body) and made them sire seven children. This of course lead to Elué's death because the constant flow of magic in her body was too much for her to handle. Her grieving husband broke after she died and eventually left, abandoning his daughters and earning Mystra's scorn...as if he was in the wrong. The sisters were then orphaned and raised by foster families.

That said, most of the awful things anyone can say about Mystra were the doings of her previous incarnations so ultimately it doesn't apply to the Mystra of BG3. In fact, this third Mystra is supposed to be a new and improved goddess who's nicer to her followers. So her portrayal in BG3 annoyed a lot of DnD fans. I should also point out that Mystra has two types of fans: ones who will defend everything she does, even when it's fucked up beyond all comprehension, and the ones who will tell you she's a true neutral goddess capable of good and bad. I'm the latter. There are plenty examples of Mystra sticking her neck out for innocents, but there's also examples of her doing the most horrendous shit imaginable.

A lot of veteran players, at least the ones I know, are upset with the portrayal of Mystra in BG3 because her plan to end the Absolute is, quite frankly, stupid. Your party is the best chance anyone has of ending the threat, but she asks Gale to nuke himself and possibly tens of thousands, which makes no sense because she could've just sent her mages/clerics to deal with the problem. And there was no guarantee the bomb would've worked anyway. She put all the responsibility on one man and it DEFINITELY comes off as vindictive. That isn't out if character for her but she's not SUPPOSED to be that bad anymore. For a lot of DnD players it felt like she was reverting back to her old habits.

I think there's also a part in the game where you can directly ask Gale why she doesn't just blip the Absolute out of existence and he says something like, "She could but Ao won't allow it." That was also really strange for a lot of veteran players to hear because Gale drops Ao's name like it's nothing. Most people (especially if they're new to the franchise) wouldn't know this but most people in Faerûn don't know who Ao is! Because he wiped people's memories of his existence! I suppose it does make sense for Gale to know that name, since Mystra probably explained the pantheon to him, but it's VERY unlikely tav would know it. So during that conversation all I could picture was tav tilting their head like, "Huh? Who? Whaaa?"

And on top of that......Ao absolutely WOULD allow it because the Absolute effects the Weave and every other god! It had the potential to ruin the balance of the universe, which makes Ao a very angry boy. Balance is one of the ONLY things he cares about. The Dead Three were stealing souls and worshippers, which gods needs to survive, and dying gods disrupts the balance. It's a whole circle of chaos. So the only conclusion left for me to extrapolate is this: Mystra just really, really wanted Gale to kill himself to prove his devotion to her. Which...isn't great. Bad look for her.

It's kind of like how Raphael thinks the Crown of Karsus is going to help him end the Blood War and take over the hells. DnD players laughed during his epilogue because...no it won't lol. He doesn't stand a chance even with the crown. He's arrogant and he's gonna get slapped by his daddy and all the other archdevils, the same way Gale gets slapped by Mystra if he ascends. Even the Absolute ending of the game wouldn't last long because the gods would go to war with the Dead Three, wipe them out and rebuild Faerûn, which has happened many times in past DnD campaigns. Mystra alone has torn worlds apart and glued them back together. The main crisis of BG3 is saving the world you live in or everybody dies. For the gods it's just a Tuesday. I mean look at how Withers owns the Dead Three with a wave of his hand at the end of the game. Mystra COULD'VE killed the Absolute, just as she could've removed the orb from Gale's chest the moment it happened. She just didn't WANT to. She wanted him to die. She wanted him to chastise himself. She wanted him to suffer and come crawling back to her as an obedient follower. She wanted him to learn a harsh and honestly unfair lesson, which is a terrible throwback to her previous incarnations.

[quitealotofsodapop]

AU idea: Wukong goes into labor with the stone egg WHILE he's fighting Macaque

Not sure which fight you mean honestly, but I assume you meant the "OG" fight back during the Journey days.

I imagine this all occurs likely in a version of the Jttw Stone Egged au where Macaque joins the gang after he found out.

Wukong and Macaque are fighting neck and neck when Macaque finally stops to listen to Wukong's shouts;

Wukong, in tears: "Macaque please! Don't make me do this! I'm with-" Macaque: "What's that weird noise??" Wukong: "Huh?" Macaque: "It sorta sounds like a... bag of water? With a heartbeat inside of- OHHHH!" Macaque: (*points at Wukong's pants*) Wukong: (*looks down and sees that his water has broken*) Both monkeys: (*start screaming!*)

Macaque drops his glamour immediately to tend to his mate.

Macaque: "I have so many questions! Who, why, and how long?!" Wukong, has Macaque's hand in a death-grip: "You, Mountain, 500 years." Macaque, mental gears turning: "Huh!?! How did- ohhh wait... self-spawning. If I had kept coming and fed you peaches you wouldn't have-" Wukong: "Yeah!" Macaque: "And since I wa- Am your mate the kid would be-" Wukong: "YEAH." Macaque, trying to lighten the mood: "Do I get visitation rights?" Wukong, voice deepening: "DON'T PUSH IT, BUD!"

Eventually the Pilgrims and Guanyin catch up (the Bodhisattva heard that water break from across the sea), and see the Six Eared Macaque has completely dropped his Monkey King glamour and is trying his best to keep the real Sun Wukong's breathing steady.

Guanyin quickly gets to work; bringing Wukong to somewhere nice and warm and dry to have the baby. They suggest that the reappearance of the other parent (i.e Macaque) caused the Egg to prematurely decide to make itself known.

Bonus if this is the first time certain Pilgrims (besides a wise dragon-dragon) heard of such a thing XD

Ao Lie, excited: "It's already happening!? Congratulations!!" Wukong: "Thanks Lie, but I'd prefer to get the kid out before you all start thanking me." Zhu Bajie, oblivious: "Wait what kid!? They heck is everyone talking about?!" Tripitaka: (*hyperventilating into his hat like it's a paper bag*) Sha Wujing: "I suppose well wishes are in order! Did Brother Wukong drink from the same river and choose to decline the cure?" Wukong: "No, it's HIS fault." (*jabs thumb at Macaque*) Macaque: (*blushing, waves nervously at his mate's Pilgrim brothers*) Ao Lie, breaking the tension: "So this is your Equal in Strength you've been telling us about!" Macaque, slight smugness: "That's what you've been calling me?" Wukong, gritting teeth from pain: "Not now Mihou..."

Macaque stays at Wukong's side the whole time, even as his instincts are going nuts, snarling at the Pilgrims if they dare approach. And even when his hand was definitely broken by Wukong's grip during a really bad contraction.

The rest of the Pilgrims meditate and pray for Wukong and the baby's health. Ao Lie makes a point of chilling in his dragon form to scare off any passing creatures or people - dragons don't like being disturbed when they're laying an egg, and he imagines its the same for Stone Monkeys.

After a lot of pushing and encouragement, a tiny egg makes itself known, cracking open shortly thereafter.

What lies within?

A chirpy, chubby-faced baby monkey with glowing (Macaque starts crying then) ears and dark fur - the little thing's cries sounding indignant as if they'd been awakened from a long sleep. Guanyin makes a point to gather the citrine and amethyst-imbedded shell of the newborn for the parents to keep.

Wukong and Macaque can't even remember what they were fighting about earlier - all that matters is the clinging baby on Wukong's chest. Little thing is a bit smaller than expected due to their premature birth, but they're healthy and hungry.

The rest of the Pilgrims are allowed in after everything is cleaned up and Macaque's hand has been bandaged.

First thing out of anyone's mouth is;

Zhu Bajie: "I thought monkeys had litters?" Wukong, growling: "Don't jinx me."

So yeah, now the Journey has a newborn baby and it's dad along for the ride.