#why can i just NOT get over the like deep deep shame i have over being trans why is that normal fine and awesome for EVERYONE in the world.

[bambisspeckles]

Stowaway ✿ Poly Pirate!141 x Reader

*pics for aesthetics only!

Summary: You accidentally sneak onto pirate crew 141's ship CW: Inaccurate depiction of pirates, poly!141, fem!reader, ghost and price are kinda assholes (for right now), soap is well soap, gaz is an angel sent from heaven, reader is held captive (ish), stockholm syndrome core but like in the way beauty and the beast is, no romance yet (sorry, but don't worry it won't really be a slowburn), self-edited! WC: 1.8K

It was a mistake, honestly you should have just stayed put. You have no idea why you thought it'd be a good idea to sneak onto any ship, at all, ever.

You suppose this cruel fate is karma for your actions.

It started in the early hours of the morning, when many passenger ships were docked. You had decided to pack a small bag with your most important belongings and sneak into one of the ships cargo holds. In theory it was a good idea, you figured most of the crew we be pretty occupied tending to passengers needs, therefore your chances of getting caught and thrown into the ocean were slim. It's a shame you the ship you decided to board wasn't a passenger ship.

You should have known, it didn't look remotely like a passenger ship. There weren't any nice amenities, only one small dining room, not nearly enough beds for the amount of people that come to and from your island, and there were too many suspicious looking locked chests. There was a voice inside your head screaming for you to get off the ship but the adrenaline being pumped through your body was too high, and the yearning to escape the hell your home brought to you overruled almost all your sense of logic and reasoning. When you found the cargo hold, you didn't even think twice before making your way inside, quickly scanning your surroundings to find the best place to hide. You decide to hide behind some unmarked crates, figuring they'd be bothered the least. You squeeze your body behind the boxes, maneuvering so all of you can be hidden well.

It feels like you're there for days, realistically you know that's not true, but you're so close to leaving this island and never looking back. No matter how tempted you are to bolt, you keep yourself firmly planted behind the crates. Finally, you hear voices, it doesn't seem like there's very many people and that makes your anxiety sky rocket, but it's much too late to sneak off and try to find another ship to become a stowaway in. Pushing your knees further into your chest, you take a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm your nerves. For hours you hear voices and footsteps above you, but no one seems to have any suspicions. In fact it's been so calm the rocking of the ship has your eyes fluttering shut, you've been fighting sleep but nothing has transpired for so long maybe a few minutes of shut eye won't hurt. As your mind battles between alertness and staying asleep you hear something.

Footsteps. Coming down the steps, right into the cargo hold.

Your heart drops into your stomach and your breath hitches. You squeeze your body into itself in an attempt to make it smaller, one of your hands coming to clasp your mouth shut. The footsteps get louder and louder until you see a large figure standing in the archway. You go rigid as you get a better look at him. He's no average sailor, he's a fucking pirate.

"Great." You think wryly. "If he finds me then I really am dead."

He's moving around some boxes, you're not quite sure why, and for a moment you think he has no clue you're there.

Unfortunately for you, that's where you're wrong.

In the blink of an eye he grabs you from behind your crate wall, holding you by the scruff of your neck like a naughty kitten. The look in his eye is dark, and the rest of his face is covered by a mask, a skull print adorning the fabric. He says nothing, only staring at you for a moment before throwing you over his shoulder and walking back up the steps, presumably to bring you to the rest of the crew.

Oh. you're totally fucked now.

The mans footsteps attract the attention of his crew as he walks across the deck, when he stops walking, he practically throws you onto the ground, forcing you to kneel before three other men.

"Wha' a bonnie thing she is… S' what tha' noise was? Was startin' worry I was finally losin' it." A man, Scottish you think, says as he stares at you. His thumb dragging down the side of your face as a devilish smirk graces his lips.

You flinch under his touch and the Scotsman quickly removes his hand but his touch is soon replaced by another, a man much more imposing than he. Rough hands gripping your face, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Was wonderin' why it sounded like there was a rat down in the cargo," A dark glint flashes through his eyes, but it's gone as quickly as it appeared. "Now tell me, stowaway, wha' the hell are ya doin' on my ship."

Tears well in your eyes as you struggle against his grip, and you can feel his impatience growing as he waits for you to respond. After another moment, the final man turns to speak to you.

"Captain asked ya a question love, best answer him before he gets angry." His voice is surprisingly gentle, and when you meet his gaze, soft brown eyes stare back at you, eyes filled with pity.

The look in his eye breaks you, and fat tears begin rolling down the apples of your cheeks.

"I'm… I'm sorry!" You choke out your words between sobs, your body taut under the piercing gaze of the Captain.

A beat of silence passes before the Captain of the ship releases you from his grip, your body crumbling into itself.

"I didn't know! I didn't- I don't… I just wanted to leave! I promise I didn't take anything a-and you can drop me off at your next stop, just please don't hurt me…" Your words come out watery, your voice hoarse and snot coming out of your nose, ugly sobbing as these men surround you.

The man with the soft brown eyes crouches down next you, his gentle hand wiping tears off your cheeks.

"You poor thing, you're all outta' sorts. M' sure you didn't mean any harm…" He looks towards his Captain but his head is still angled in your direction. "Go easy on her sir, poor thing is trembling."

The Captain scoffs, his arms folding over his chest as he studies you, his gaze scrutinizing, piercing through you.

"She shoulda' thought of that before sneaking onto my ship." He gives you another once over before ordering you to stand on your feet. You figure it's best to do what he says so you rise from the ground, knees almost buckling under you.

The group of men stare at you for a while, seemingly unsure of what to do with you. After a few moments, a deep voice from behind finally speaks, you turn to look at him, his skull mask making your spine tingle with terror.

"We should just throw er' off the ship, no bloody reason to keep the thing around." You wince at the way he refers to you, objectifying, dehumanizing.

"Now, now, Ghost, nae reason tae make such a hasty decision. The kitten's completely harmless! I say we keep er', it'll be so nice to have a bonnie thing on board." The man, Ghost, scoffs.

"We don' need liabilities layin' around Johnny. Sides' got no use for er'. M' sure Price is inclined to agree with me." Ghost turns his head towards Price, presumably waiting for some type of agreeance on what he said.

Before the Captain can even get a word out, he's interjected.

"M' inclined to agree with Soap- for different reasons," He pauses shooting Soap a look, but he merely shrugs back. "But I agree all the same. I mean look at er' poor thing is terrified, I doubt she came to pillage our goods Captain."

Price sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he mulls over his, limited, options. Everyone, including you, waits for him with bated breath. Selfishly, you hope he'll keep you around a bit longer, at least then you'll get a chance to make an escape plan.

Finally, the Captain speaks.

"She can stay, for now. We can keep er' in the cellar until I figure out wha' the hell to do with her." His words carry a tone of finality, a fact that has Ghost scoffing.

"You're jus' pickin' sides cause' Gaz wants to keep er' around." He motions towards the man next to you, bitter venom coming out alongside his words.

Gaz rolls his eyes, blowing out with an irritated sigh.

"Price isn't picking sides, he's doing what's right. Just cause' you don't agree with it doesn't mean that-" Price puts his hand on Gaz's shoulder, interrupting his sentence. A silent way of telling him "settle down."

Gaz relaxes under the Captains touch.

"Gaz, Soap, take er' down to the cellar, we'll keep er' there for now. Ghost, come with me to my quarters." Ghost mumbles something in response, but his words are muffled by his mask, something you're sure he's grateful for at this moment.

You, Soap, and Gaz watch him for a moment as he follows Price like a kicked puppy. When they're finally out of view, Soap and Gaz turn their attention back to you.

"C'mon kitten, yer gonna ave' tae be a bit uncomfortable tonight, the Captain didnae plan for any stowaways.." He chuckles at you playfully, something you'd find much more comforting under different circumstances.

You suddenly feel a hand on your back, the skin a bit rough even through the fabric of your clothes. You whip your head to look behind to see Gaz, his soft brown eyes still filled with that same look of pity. He and Soap begin gently guiding you towards the ships cellar.

"It's alright love, The Captain can be a bit cruel but he won't hurt you. Even pirates have their limits… Besides, I assure you we're not nearly as bad as some of the other pirates out there. We'll get you sorted out in the morning."

You have no reason to trust these men, all you've known is that pirates cause pain and destruction everywhere they go, but the only thing you can do right now is trust them. So, you nod timidly, letting them guide without resistance.

Hopefully you can escape at the next docking place.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Kiss it Better Pt:3

Curly x Reader

AN: I am just speechless. All this support is making me tear up. Like holy shit. Thank you. Don’t worry! When this finishes(god idk how it will I’m making up as I go since yall want more chapters) I’ll make sure to post it to AO3 for easier access! Just thank you again! And uh. Don’t forget I have a Kofi and Wishlist if you wanna like tip or something. NO PRESSURE! Just a reminder to anyone who WANTS and CAN! You come first! Just. Thank you again!

SUM: You couldn’t sleep, so you try and remember things with Curly to lull you to sleep. As you do, you remember things that are important for a captain to have. Very important, and you are gonna be certain to find them

Warnings: Jimmy, sexual assault, mentions of abortion (it’s a rather calm chapter really. Take it as a pallet cleanser because the next chapter imma really show you how fucked up Jimmy is))

You just couldn’t sleep. It felt criminal to right now. So much was going through your head. So much has happened and now you had time to let it all soak in. The crash, Anya, why there was a crash, Curly’s condition, it made sleep impossible. Especially alone in that big bed that was meant for you and your husband.

You tried to take in deep breaths, and just let the thoughts wash over you. There was responsibility as the Captains Spouse. You weren’t just ‘eye candy’ like Jimmy said. You had worth, and were just as much important to the team as everyone else.

Such as learning a thing or two about what Captain should do in case of an emergency.

Curly was in no state to help, and Jimmy sure as fuck won’t help either. He was the reason everyone crashed after all. He’s a loose cannon and you needed to tip toe around him. Who knows what he might do next. You weren’t even sure if telling Swansea and Daisuke about what’s going on was smart.

Swansea has little girls of his own after all. He won’t react well at all. Then there’s Daisuke. Barely nineteen and thrown into this mess. He might panic or maybe even do something crazy like confront Jimmy. There was just to many what ifs.

So you were left on your own.

You would wrap yourself up in what was once Curly’s sleep robe and grab his spare ID card. The very thing that can unlock any door, and be the one thing that can lock your bedroom door. Definitely should have Anya sleep in here for a while. She deserves to be able to sleep soundly.

While you were waiting for everyone to sleep as well you would explore the bedroom. Looking into nook and cranny to see if there was anything of use. The Captains always were given a bunch of extra shit after all. Even Pony Express had to meet some safety protocols. Curly was their best after all. Even went as far as to try and help him fine work else where. That’s what he explained to you.

Shame. Was just a normal bedroom. The only thing that made it special was it was bigger, and had a lock. Dammit all to hell.

That’s when you tried to think back on past memories of you and your husband. To try and recall any kind of special thing the ships carry. Oh how you felt so guilty for never paying enough attention. Made you feel stupid and useless, but you weren’t.

At least not in comparison to Jimmy.

With a deep breath, you managed to recall something. Something not long before the crash even. You had knocked on the cockpit door to enter it, and was greeted to your husband and Jimmy working. Curly was rambling on about something, while Jimmy kept eyeing the locker suspiciously. As if he wanted to get inside of it for some reason.

That’s your best lead now. God dammit was it a shitty one. The cockpit was stuffed to the brim with foam. But then again that’s the front of the cockpit. If you were careful, and cut the right spot, maybe you can access the locker.

It’s something. Something is better than nothing.

With the robe tossed aside, a change into your jump suit, gloves slipped on, and beanie pulled on to keep your head safe you would make your way to the kitchen. Card key tucked securely inside of your jumpsuit compared to a pocket.

Jimmy can’t know.

Can’t know that you were stealing the only knife that the ship had.

Was going to be a pain in the ass to cut that foam but you really had nothing better to do. So, you unlocked the cock pit and focused on remembering its layout.

“For Anya, for Curly, for Swansea, for Daisuke, and all our families back home.”

You would start the slow and agonizing cutting. Little by little. Just chopping away to try and reach the right side of the pit. To get to that locker and see what was inside. That locker was in the cockpit for a reason. It can only be accessed by the pilots for a reason. There was a reason.

Any time you felt like your arms would give out you thought back to Curly. How he didn’t really have arms anymore to begin with. How Anya was busy throwing up right now. How they needed you. They both needed you.

It had been well over a hour, but you managed to reach the locker. You allowed yourself a breather at the sight of it. Damn was that a pain, but it’ll be worth it. Right?

With your breather over you would use the key card to access the locker. Inside was….Honestly junk. That had you very disappointed. You were honestly ready to cry out of frustration, only to see there were a few locked cabinets inside.

Ones that needed codes.

Codes you knew.

Curly made you memorize them in case of an emergency. He just said to memorize them. That it’s meant to just unlock pin pads. That Pony Express never bothered to change them.

You went to the lower locker and typed it in.

Strange, there was nothing inside. Suppose whatever was inside was taken out. You wondered what could have been in there. Was a very small locker so maybe it was some code scanner or universal unlocking device. Just wasn’t big enough for something you hoped for.

A transmitter.

He prayed it was near the front of the ship. That a transmitter would stuck in the heart of the foam, or as far as just shatter on contact. They had to have a spare communicator. Pony Express had to follow SOME rules after all. Imagine the ship being discovered and the people who found it saw it was missing something as important as that.

So you typed in the code for the larger locker. You were kinda afraid of opening it. To be met with another empty void of metal and dust.

You took a deep breath, and opened.

There really was a god.

There was what you were looking for. A real deal communicator. It was real, it looked untouched and even had dust on it to show that Jimmy never reached it.

Before you grabbed it you made sure to close the door behind you. Just to be sure. Was the dead of night, well from what the clocks say, and everyone should be asleep. Even Jimmy had to sleep. You had to make you move now.

Remain calm, and focus.

You can’t fuck this up.

You snuggled yourself into the corner of the pit, with the communication device in your lap. You hooked the head phones onto your head, and turned it on.

As you waited for it to boot up you made sure you were positioned so that if anyone came through the door, for some reason, you’ll notice. As far as anyone was aware though this room was basically a wall. No purpose to enter. You should be safe, but you had to think ahead. Jimmy was unpredictable, and so full of himself.

Better to be over prepared than see what happens if Jimmy finds out what you are doing.

Couldn’t help but give a squeak of surprise when someone finally spoke to you.

“This is the Emergency Spaceship Retrieval Sector. What seems to be the problem?”

A woman, through the static, spoke to you. Tears of relief fell down your face but you forced yourself to remain focused. You can’t mess this up now. No way no how.

“This is Tulpar for Pony Express. We have suffered a crash about a month ago. From what I can recall we had been a little over four months into our twelve month journey-“ You immediately explained, as to best help them get an estimation on how far the ship had traveled.

“Alright, who may I be speaking to at this moment?”

Deep breaths.

“I am the Spouse to Captain Curly. It is me, Jimmy the co-pilot, Anya the nurse, Swansea the mechanic, and Daisuke our intern.” Deep breaths, keep things quick and to the point.

“Are you all in any immediate danger?”

You had to think about that a moment. Jimmy is a dangerous man. Who knows what he might do next if you don’t play along. So, you had to be honest. You felt guilty for telling the operator what happened. That Curly suffered greatly and needed immediate medical attention, how Anya was a victim of assault and required an abortion as soon as possible, and that the reason for it all was because of Jimmy. He crashed the ship, he raped Anya, he destroyed Curly, and god knows what he will do next.

“Estimated arrival time will be about a month. We have your exact location thanks to the communicator. Remain calm, and know that help is on the way. We have logged this down in the report. Take care of your crew the best you can, Captain.”

And she would log off. You would let your head thump back, and simply cried. Cried in pure relief and joy. That a real person heard you, and was aware of what’s going on. That if anything did go wrong that at least someone knows. Someone will know what happened.

There was hope.

Now was a matter of survival.

One month.

You all needed to survive one month.

One Month Until Rescue…

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@dinkyzoop @danart501 @spudfromspace @niyamamiya

[certified-sleep-deprived]

hi! I was wondering if you could do an Agatha harkness x reader comfort fic for self harm? it's totally okay if not!! 🫶🫶

Hiya!! I wouldn't mind at all! As someone who used to struggle with SH, it was kind of nice to write a hurt/comfort for it. If you guys need someone to talk to, my dms are open :')

I have been very slow with this because of tech week, performances for a play, and then getting sick, sorry!! I'm getting to all my requests I promise yall. This one was a bit shorter than I intended but I still enjoyed writing it

°Agatha with a s/o who sh's°

Warnings/notes: mentions and descriptions of self harm, blood, angst, hurt/comfort, soft Agatha for the win

She couldn't believe what she was seeing. You, there on the floor of the bathroom, were mid-way cutting your wrist with a knife as you stared at her with wide eyes. Your arm was covered in dripping blood as it started pooling on the floor. Tears spilled out of your eyes as she kneeled down beside you on the rough, tiled floor.

Her hand gently placed itself over yours that held the knife, and she softly pried it from your blood soaked fingers. You let her do so, as you know you couldn't fight her.

The knife was placed in the sink, and she took your injured arm in both her hands, not seeming to care about being covered in your blood.

"Agatha-"

"Why...? Why would you..." She cuts you off.

She is at a loss for words as she chokes on a sob, tears of her own spilling down her face. Guilt hits you like a freight train, and you hang your head in shame, and you try to take your arm away from her but she doesn't relent. She grabs your hips and uses them to pull you into her lap so she can have an easier time cleaning up your wounds.

The next ten or so minutes as she cleaned the cuts was full of winces and gasps of pain as wet paper towels and peroxide dragged and seeped into your cuts; it felt like acid was burning at you when the peroxide was used to clean any dirt. As soon as she was done cleaning your cuts, she made sure to press gentle kisses to every single one of them, like a dog would to its own wounds. She wraps your arm in moisturizing medicine and gauze to prevent it from opening or drying out overnight.

As you attempt to get up, she doesn't let you, but instead she picks you up and brings you to the bed you two share. She places you in a sitting position, and you can't meet her gaze the whole time. Noticing this, her voice breaks you out of your thoughts.

"Doll, look at me, please?"

She tilts your chin up, and she sees the redness of your face and the glassy look of your eyes that mirrored her own. All that is in your gaze is guilt and pain, and her heart aches at the sight. You try your best to avoid her gaze, but it's impossible with how close she is holding your face to hers. A thumb gently rubs your cheek, and instinctively you lean into her hand with fresh tears flowing out of your eyes. The same thumb wipes some of them away with tenderness.

"You don't have to talk if you don't want to, but know I'm not going anywhere. Okay?"

You nod at her words, and you take a deep breath before speaking to ground yourself.

"Its just... shit has been so stressful lately with my job making me stay later and raising my workload, all the deadlines, and then seeing someone from years ago who I had a falling out with today didn't help."

She looked you in the eye the whole time you were speaking, tentatively listening.

"I haven't cut in so long, but I relapsed just like that" you say with a snap of your fingers.

"How could I let myself slip". You weep for your relapse.

Her mouth opens as if she was going to say something, but no words come out. Not like they could as you spoke again before she could get the chance.

"I'd understand if you want to leave or anything. I won't judge or blame you."

~~~~~~

...what?

Her expression changed from that of a gentle one, to very confused as her nose scrunched up. Before you could get on a rambling train, she pulls your face to hers for a gentle kiss. It didn't last long before she pulled away and made you look her in the eye.

"Now why would I do that? You think I would really leave you, especially in a time where you need me?"

She continues holding your face in her hands, rubbing your cheekbones with her thumbs in a gentle caress.

Your gently pushed down on your back, and she lays on her side, facing you. A hand places itself on your bandaged arm and lightly strokes the length of it.

"I'm here for the long haul, no matter what happens. Im going to be here for you in your highs and your lows, darling. I won't leave because of you... harming yourself like this."

Your heart swells at her words, and you can't help the guilt train that hits you in the face, because she's staying with you even with your flaws. Agatha seems to have noticed the shift in your already guilty expression, as she cups the underside of your jaw, forcing you to look at her.

"Dont let anything eat away at you. Everyone had their was of... destressing, I guess you can put it. It isn't a way I endorse, but I can help you find a better way. That's why I'm here."

She looks at you with glassy eyes, brushing some hair out of your face tenderly. Your gaze flicks down to her lips and back up. She does the same and smiles, catching your gaze again as her lips find their way to yours. Her usual rough nature is pushed aside in this moment, a soft side reserved only for you as she tries to ease your pain.

"Let me be your shoulder to cry on. Don't do this when you have a bad day, come to me. I feel like such an awful girlfriend for not even noticing how you were feeling. I've been so wrapped up in mentoring Billy lately that I haven't even spared any of my time for you..."

She traces her fingers along the underside of your jaw as she talks. You grab her hand and you trail kisses from her finger tips up her arm before speaking again.

"Don't feel awful. I know how much he needs your help. The boy is just finding out who and what he is, so I understand. I'm just used to hiding my feelings and masking them, so that's likely why you didn't pick up on anything initially."

You look eachother in the eyes before embracing again, occasional sniffles and sobs escape you two before you separate and Agatha gently pushes you to lay down on the bed.

"Let's get some sleep, bunny. It's been an emotional night for us, so let's rest."

All you can manage is a nod as sleep starts to creep up on you like a fox. Agatha slips into the bed beside you and pulls you close so she is spooning you. The last thing you hear before you fall into slumber is a soft 'goodnight' from behind you, and then a tender kiss on your head.

[cutiecusp]

It's been two years since I've taken these photos, and it inspired a little series... here's part one.

Focus.

Simon Riley x War Correspondent Reader.

Tw. Readers nickname is 'snaps' but still able to be read as you. Mention of war.

"You know how to use that weapon, snaps?" A deep gruff voice rings over the noise of the van.

You balk at the idea of using a gun, you were here to photograph the truth, not take up arms.

"I'll manage." You reply stiffly, eyeing the man behind the voice.

Sitting towards the back of the van is the man you've been warned about. Shoulders wider than your body, a skull mask and a death glare to match... Ghost.

He lets out a dry chuckle, not unkindly.

"You'll learn." He remarks before the comms pick up again and you hear the next part of the mission.

You feel his eyes return to you a few minutes later. Meeting his gaze, you lift your chin slightly in defiance.

"I don't need a babysitter. Just here to do my job." You say, somewhat stubbornly. You had heard that the taskforce 141 and it's members had a reputation for being the best, and you held yourself to a similar standard. You were the best war photographer out there, and you took pride in it.

"Just saying. You gotta be a part of the team, and it's easier if you know how to defend yourself." Ghost leans in a little closer, your legs touching in the cramped van.

"It'll be a shame to have to ship such a pretty thing like you back home in a box."

Your breath pauses in your throat, making you splutter and choke on air. Fully embarrassed, your face aflame, you watch as he settles back into his seat and picks up a conversation with Soap, seemingly unaware of how flustered you were.

'It's gonna be a long trip' you think to yourself.

Simons POV.

This desert was going to kill me. Between Soaps constant chatter and the photographer making moon eyes at me when she thinks I'm not looking, this ride to the next point was torturous.

I would have been fine with a photographer on board, after all, what's another member of the team, after welcoming Alejandro and Rudy, it seemed like everyone had joined us lately. Allowing us to get the job done was my number one priority.

But then she came along. All cute with her camera set up, tact vest that stated she was a member of the press, a lamb to the slaughter. She should be at home, instead of this dusty hellhole.

I raise an eyebrow.

"You know how to use that weapon, snaps?"

Snaps. why did i give her a fucking nickname?

Her face gave me pause, i thought i was icy, but Hades himself has nothing on this woman.

and that chin tilt?

She's mine.

I lean in, using my size to intimidate her a little, see if i can pull some more of that fire from her. For some fucking reason, i cannot look away. Her body close to mine, and watching her flush as i paid her a small compliment tickled a part of my brain i thought was dead forever.

I barely heard Soaps chatter through the sound of blood rushing through my ears.

'Thank fuck i wear a mask.' i think to myself.

@kaeyasfuturewife @xoxunhinged @muneca-lemon-steppa @gardenof-venus @misshugs @soraya-daydreams @frudoo @renpodz @yesornowaitidontknow @thevoiceinyourheadx @shadowdark00 @rynbeerose @lunamoonbby @incredible-walker @identity2212 @pukbadger @urbimom @corvid007 @wordsfromshona @shadows-empress @m00xy @canyonmooncreations @oniraki @evie-119 @havoc973 @kylies-love-letter @ishipdabands @cmbghost @heckinspooks @midwesternwitchery @eggy-yoke @redzluvvesage @masterclassofescapism @s-a-v-a-n-a-34

[vityaposting]

WRITING REQUEST HIII

what about reader going to viktor to get augmented for a non physical reason - like maybe mental illness or addiction or something (idk dealers choice) and viktor slowly getting to know them over time. eventually reader overcomes their problem, and viktor realises that he likes reader just the way they are - unaugmented or not.

don't feel obligated to do this lol just saw that your requests where open

HI!!!! i love this request so much i decided it needs to be a multi chapter thing (4 or 5 probably?) i got broken up with yesterday so i ATE this prompt up lol

how to heal a rusted heart - mh!viktor x gn!reader - part 1

wc: 2100

You approach Emberflit Alley with no small amount of trepidation. The house is smaller than you expected, shoddier on the outside; shutters hang from foggy, cracked windows, and ivy like claw-scratches makes its way up the worn brick walls. You know—as does every Zaunite you’ve ever met—that there is more to the Machine Herald’s residence than meets the eye. You don’t know exactly how—somewhere, some way, there is a massive laboratory tucked behind the house’s unassuming facade. Maybe a separate underground sector, or even a pocket dimension supplied by the Herald’s knowledge of thinning the barrier between tech and magic. All these speculations are, of course, rumors—you’ve never had a reason to solve the mystery yourself. Until today. Today, you’d snapped.

Your chest still burns with the fury of it all. Betrayal. And to think they’d claimed to love you. Sickly-sweet self-satisfaction rises like bile to the back of your throat, putting a little more power behind your knock on the door. You’d been right. Paranoia, your doctor had proclaimed years ago—a not-uncommon symptom of your particular ailment. Well, was it true paranoia if you were always proven right in the end?

It doesn’t matter. After tonight, you won’t care.

A thickly-accented voice cuts through the speaker above the knocker: “You may enter.”

Ominous. You push away your trepidation, another instinct you’d be free of sooner rather than later. The door is heavy steel—you have to use your shoulder to pry it open, but once you’ve managed its weight, it swings inward for you on well-oiled hinges.

You emerge into a wide space thick with the stenches of metal and oil, cast under an ambient glow in various shades of orange. Lights flicker at you from lanterns on the walls, from faint bulbs hung across the ceiling. A lab bench spans the entire length of the room, which seems impossibly large compared to the house’s outer facade. A pocket dimension it is, then. Maybe. You still can’t be sure. The equipment littered across the bench is foreign and complex-looking.

The whistle of steam and clicking of gears greets you before the Herald himself can.

He’s tinkering with something. Something sharp. He sets it down, turns on his stool, lowers his hood and pushes his goggles onto his forehead. You aren’t quite sure what you expected the Machine Herald to look like under his armor and mask. If he even takes them off at all. Whatever you expected, this isn’t it.

“Good evening,” he says levelly. His voice rumbles in his throat, his accent lending the greeting a soft, alluring quality. He tilts his head, an oddly innocent gesture, considering his reputation. “With what can I be of service?”

The words you’ve been rehearsing for hours lodge themself in your throat, and even a heavy swallow can’t force them out. The Herald is unblinking. Molten orange pupils burn into yours, piercing against his dark scleras. His face is pale and his features sharp—he’s beautiful, you note, not completely willingly—and his frame is thin and willowy beneath his cloak.

“Well?” he prompts, and shame floods you, reminding you why you decided to take measures this drastic in the first place. “Nobody comes this deep into the Lanes just to visit me. Not to say I mind the solitude.”

He doesn’t want you here.

You’re here for a service, scolds the rational side of your mind, a side which seems to grow more and more powerless with every passing week, with every friend you lose, with every burst of rage and every bridge you burn. A service he openly advertises. He allowed you to open the door. He could have… have death-rayed you.

“Mister… Machine Herald,” you begin, horrendously embarrassed at how your voice quavers. The air in the lab is muggy. You wrap your arms around your middle anyway. “I’ve heard of the… the services you provide, and I—”

“Viktor,” he interrupts. “Viktor will suffice.”

You cough. His eyes narrow.

“Go on. You seek augmentation.”

“Of the… unconventional variety, I guess you could say. Less of a physical augmentation and more of a…”

“You are at war with your own mind,” he observes. “I can see it in your eyes. Come closer.”

And you do, because there’s something in the rumble of his voice—which is so close to a growl you feel weak in the knees—and the sharp glow of his eyes that draws you in like a moth to a lantern. He gestures to the second stool at his side. You wonder who it’s normally reserved for. Patients? Experimental subjects? A partner, perhaps—or has he always only worked alone?

“You’re tense. Relax.” He speaks with such calm authority that it’s impossible not to listen. “I will not touch you without explicit permission. If it’s only emotional suppression you seek, I may be able to offer a solution that does not require me to lay hands on you.”

You don’t know why this disappoints you.

He tilts his head as he gazes at you, one gloved hand fidgeting with a trinket on his workbench. “Tell me. In detail. What is it you want out of this? What causes you such pain?”

“Everything,” you say. It’s almost a whimper. He raises an eyebrow. Clearing the embarrassment from your throat, you try again. “Everything is… is so much. I’m scared. All the time. I can’t love anyone anymore, I… I’m afraid they’ll all leave me.” Oftentimes, they do, you neglect to add. This won’t concern Viktor. He has no reason to care. “And it can change on a coin. It’s like you said. It’s like being at war.” A war between your body and your brain, you’ve realized, would never be one worth fighting. This, however, seems to be the only way to put an end to things. You look at Viktor plaintively, hoping he isn’t judging. If the rumors are true, he removed his ability to judge long ago.

“Ah,” he said after a silence that seemed to stretch for eons. “I understand.”

“My doctor says it’s an… ailment.”

“That may be,” he says. “As such, you have a right to want to heal it. Procedures with the intent to alter emotions are harder and riskier than procedures focused on the physical. I am happy to give you what you ask for, but you must be aware of the potential consequences. Do you intend to eliminate all emotions, or… only their extremities?”

“Only the extremities.” Life will be much easier, you think, if you never have to love another person again. Amicable acquaintanceship, however, hurts nobody.

“Good,” he hums. “Complete removal is difficult. If I weren’t so stubborn I’d nearly say it was impossible.”

“How do you know?”

“I tried,” he says plainly.

“And you failed?” You don’t know what emboldens you to say it.

“I simply have not yet succeeded.”

You look at him, then, really look at him. And behind those beautiful eyes that glow with the light of a hundred fires, shine with the darkness of a hundred polluted Zaun nights, you almost swear you see your own loneliness staring back at you.

“It’s risky,” he continues. “In the case that something goes awry, do not say I didn’t warn you.”

“Of course,” you whisper.

“May I take a closer look? I’d like to get a feel for the incision site.”

You nod a silent confirmation and bow your head, gripping the sides of the stool. He wheels himself closer. Lifts his hand. You hold your breath.

The Herald’s hands are gentle when they card through your hair, pushing a few strands away from your forehead. His demeanor now is a far cry from the terrifying villain you know him to be—the chaos-wreaking force of evil most of Zaun insists he is. You wonder, as your breathing calms, exactly how many of the tales are wild fantasy, because this soft touch is the realest thing you've felt in a long, long time.

“All I can promise you is that I will be careful,” he murmurs, tracing a line from the center of your forehead to the crown of your hair. “This particular procedure is immensely detail-oriented, even in comparison to the others I’ve performed. To dampen your emotions, I will be altering your limbic system, in the simplest of terms. However, if I am not meticulous, I risk damaging other functions, such as reasoning or memory.”

Truth be told, waking up without any memory of the hurt you’ve endured doesn’t sound too awful.

But, you realize as a shiver runs down your spine—you want to remember this.

“There is another option,” Viktor goes on. You’re forced to draw your attention away from his soft, prodding touches. “Implants in the form of pills. Those, however, I’ve not yet managed to make permanent. They’re finicky, and they don’t last long. You’d have to take them twice a day—one separate medication for each emotion you wish to suppress. I imagine it would all be a hassle. This, however… if you consent, I can perform the entire procedure in one process, and your desired results will be immediate.” He draws his hand back, lightly scratching your scalp—it’s enough to relax, but not enough to hurt. “You don’t have to decide today.”

“No, no. That’s alright. I’ll take the… the surgery.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

Finality settles over you like a chilly breeze as he pulls away. You’ll finally be free. Free of heartbreak, of fury, of flaws. There’s something in his mechanical gaze that unnerves you and enthralls you simultaneously. Something human.

“Being that this is a complicated procedure,” he says, “I will have to schedule it in advance. I will reserve an entire day for you and I cannot free the time for a week. A week from today. Is that alright with you? I can give you the medication to temporarily curb your symptoms in the meantime, if you like. It’s experimental, but I am relatively sure of its safety.”

He looks so hopeful. You know the joy etched in the lines of his sharp face is nothing more than the joy of scientific innovation, but it’s endearing all the same. The Machine Herald of Zaun’s urban legends is a completely different person. You find it hard to believe that the cackling, murderous tyrant rumored to haunt the Lanes even shares a name with the man in front of you. There’s a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth, and a few locks of hair sticking up haphazardly from beneath his goggles. You find yourself cracking a grin for the first time in days.

“No,” you say. Your chest feels lighter. Just a bit. Enough to be noticeable, enough to instill the certainty that trusting your life to the Herald is the right decision—malicious cackle, terrifying armor, death laser, and all. “No, I’ll be alright.”

He crosses his arms over his lap. “You don’t have to tell me what happened,” he says softly. “But the ache in your heart… someone put it there. I know the feeling. You are not the first to be driven away from loving altogether. I once thought I had a simple fix. I… do not know if it was the foolproof solution I thought it was. I will perform any procedure on you that you wish. But you should know this. Metal is perfection, yes, but love… love can rust the strongest steel.” He swallows, fiery eyes flickering. “I thought I’d warn you. However, I do my best for all my patients, and you are no exception.”

You’re quiet for a long moment. You’re grateful for the lab’s low lighting—it’s unlikely Viktor can see the blush crawling up your neck. “I—thank you.”

“Do you still want this? Even considering the risk?”

He looks at you so softly. He must look at everyone that softly, you realize, but the knowledge doesn’t make you feel any less warm. “Yeah.”

He gives you a businesslike nod, and you can see the Machine Herald’s persona sliding back into place. Cold. Unfeeling. For a moment, though, you saw the truth. “Thank you. I will see you one week from today—be here as early in the morning as you please. I’ll walk you out. Be safe out there. I can only complete the procedure if you return to me in one piece.”

What a gentleman, you think, but you say nothing. You accept with a small smile.

His hand brushes your shoulder as you reach for the handle of the door. Your whole body sparks, as if you’re a machine already.

“Goodbye,” he says. “And best of luck. I will pray that the next week treats you kindly.”

You almost want to hug him goodbye—out of thanks if nothing else. You hold yourself back. “I’ll see you then.”

The last thing you see before the door shuts behind you are his eyes. Two pinpricks of light in the darkness of the Lanes. Mechanical though they are, you realize they still crinkle at the corners when he smiles.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

A Tattoo and the Bloodsucker Blues Part 14

"Here's to hoping I'll fall fast asleep tonight

And I'll just need to get through this

Born in the darkness, who brings the light?

And I just, I need to get through this

Or just get used to it"

Beyonce & Willie Jones – "Just For Fun"

A.N.: Content Warning(s): 18+. Mentions of violence and religion.

Celeste groaned and rubbed the back of her head where she hit the floor. She ached all over and didn't want to open her eyes just yet. Maybe if she kept them closed, she could pretend everything in her life was normal again.

"Duchess…c'mon cousin, wake up…"

Micah's voice floated above her.

She opened her eyes and coughed. Her stomach still hurt from where Mia punched her. Celeste rolled on her side and covered her face. Micah shook her shoulder.

"We have to get out of here," Micah said.

"And go where?!"

She glanced at her cousin and the once warm rich hues of his brown face had drained away to a pallid coloring. How much blood had he lost?

She rose and stared into his hollow eyes. Fear and shame reflected back to her in equal measure. She glanced around the wrecked sanctuary. It looked like World War III had blown through the church.

Micah touched his wound.

"How bad is it?" she asked.

"I don't think he pierced any vital organs…the bleeding has slowed down. I'm not outta the woods yet."

She stood and surveyed the damage. Father Mbenga's body and head were gone. A deep, mournful sound caught her attention from a pew. Celeste carefully walked toward the noise.

"My God," she muttered.

She found Gadreel curled on his side, one of his wings ripped off of his left shoulder completely. Dark orange clots of his vital fluid darkened the wound area where a hole now lived. The gargoyle leaned back, revealing his entire wounded body to her. His skin bore the marks of a severe ass whooping.

"The father of your child is a fierce fighter," Gadreel said.

Claw marks and missing chunks of flesh aside, the damage to his body wasn't lethal.

"I don't know why he spared me," Gadreel said.

Micah wandered next to her. Gadreel looked up at her cousin.

"Father Mbenga has been too unpredictable…erratic the last few months, Micah. We had the Daywalker in our grasp. But now…"

"I thought he was just under a lot of pressure. I didn't know he'd snap and try to kill us," Micah said.

Celeste glared at her cousin.

"How could you hide all of this from me?" she said.

"This work we do…Micah is under a vow of silence. He is a wetaderi…a soldier… for God," Gadreel said.

"What does God have to do with any of this madness?" she asked.

Gadreel laughed, his voice bouncing against the walls like shotgun blasts. Micah winced, lowering his eyes to the floor.

"It is a tale as old as the beginning of human time itself."

Celeste turned away from the gargoyle and fought to control her emotions and fear.

"I don't have time to listen to bullshit!" she shouted.

"You sound the way Mother Mary did so long ago," Gadreel said.

The gargoyle moved his mouth in a way that mimicked a very human smile.

Celeste cut her eyes at Micah. He watched her with a somber expression.

"Would you have believed me? Had I broken my vow of silence, risked years of moving in the shadows to reveal the truth to you…what would you have done? Called my mama and told her to collect me because I've lost my mind? There are two worlds, Duchess. The one you live in and the one I survive undetected among nightmares. You remember when Grand-mère used to tell everyone that I had the gift of second sight? Well…it wasn't just ghosts she was talking about. I can see things that shouldn't be seen. Supernatural beings count on humans living in ignorance. Growing up, I could see things that no child should ever have to know are real. I think you have the gift too, Duchess. Maybe not as strong as me…but you have sensitivities that draw energy to you. You attract people all the time, and even animals. Don't you remember people saying that animals, old people, and even children were drawn to you?"

"But you were the same way, Micah—"

"Exactly! We give off an aura of some kind…like a GPS signal… that breaks the barrier between worlds and attracts the supernatural the way magnets can pull iron to it. There's a light in you, and I'm sure it's why Terry latched onto you and maybe…other things have found their way near you."

"I've seen Terry's great-great-grandmother's ghost. She came to me after he left New Orleans. Now I know she was really his descendant."

"See? Did you think you were losing your mind for a minute?"

"Just a minute."

"When Terry revealed his true self, you probably didn't freak out as much as a normal person would've. The shock hit you and then you moved on to what mattered. Deep down, I'm sure you instinctively sensed something wasn't right about him or your relationship. The rational part of your mind may have even dismissed unusual circumstances because vampires are the master manipulators…and bay-bee…they can seduce humans like no other. But then they drain you…feed their unnatural bodies and move on to the next willing victim."

Gadreels's lips uncurled into a frown.

"Except, in this case…Terry didn't kill her," the gargoyle pondered.

"We fell in love," Celeste said.

"They are parasites. The only things they're capable of are hate for humanity and hurting others. Bloodlust is their core existence. You should be dead," Gadreel said.

"Yet here I am," she said.

The look in Gadreel's eyes gave her shivers.

"Something is wrong with that…just as something is wrong with you having the ability to carry a vampire's seed," Gadreel said.

He shut his eyes and shuddered. Pain coursed through him, and he groaned under his breath that smelled like raw meat.

"Micah, seek medical attention and then leave this place for good. The vampires who may have survived our battle tonight will hunt you down. They know your face… and your scent. Go as far as you can," Gadreel said.

Micah broke down in tears.

"I'm sorry, Duchess, I did my best to protect you and all the people in this city," Micah heaved out.

"I don't understand…can't gargoyles protect him at night?" Celeste said.

"The familiars and other minions will get to him before we can even discreetly intervene. He must leave and never return. I would suggest leaving the country if you can. The council may help with funds, but your life is in peril here. Go now…quickly. The feral ones heal quickly and might return."

"Is Terry alive?" she asked.

Gadreel nodded.

"He killed many and escaped. Some of his brethren are dead and some scattered. My guess is, he will hide until it is safe to contact you. Unfortunately, there are too many inbred packs and clans in New Orleans right now."

"That's why I called Father Mbenga to send word for help. He messaged as many of our contacts to send the gargoyles here. We had to wait for Terry to show up again. When he's around, the others flock to him. It's our best chance to kill the most vampires. They feel safer when Daywalkers are near," Micah said.

Gadreel choked and spat out a thick glob of bright, orange gargoyle blood that hit the floor in a liquid splat.

"There is a gathering taking place. Our spies and communication networks could not find the source that calls the vampires here in large packs. Something is in the wind and it does not bode well for humans," Gadreel said.

Celeste knelt down and kept her gaze even with the gargoyle.

"What are you really?" she asked.

"I think in your heart, you know."

Gadreel fixed his eyes on Micah.

"Micah, you must escape…leave now."

"What about you?" Micah said.

Her cousin's tone was full of distress.

"I will wait until the sun rises. Perhaps when the humans find me, I may be able to heal in my dormancy when they assume I am some strange statue that appeared in the ruins of this church."

"Terry might find you…and kill you," Micah whimpered.

Watching her cousin's eyes fill with tears, she caught on that these two had a long-standing friendship.

"That's what Daywalkers do…and why they are so precious to the clans. Don't weep for me Micah…you are named 'He Who is Like God' for a reason. Your dedication to me and the council has been admirable for the last fifteen years. It is time for you to escape a fate worse than my own."

"I don't want to leave Duchess. I have to protect her," Micah said.

"You've done all you can. Now she has to do the rest on her own. The Old Ones won't harm her, and the vampires will protect her. Right now, she lives in a sweet spot. She's the safest human on the planet until the beginning of next year when that child is born."

Micah hugged Celeste. Her emotions were ambivalent toward him, but she clung to his shoulders and shed tears for their predicament together.

"Celeste…please…don't keep this baby. You can have others later with a human. I don't want you to live the rest of your life on the run like me, but if you terminate now, we can figure out a new life somewhere, maybe in Mexico or Canada…West Africa, maybe. We always wanted to visit Ghana…connect to the motherland…anywhere, cousin…anywhere…I have enough money saved right now that could cover us for a few years until we settle somewhere far from here."

Celeste shook her head.

"I can't. Maybe if I knew the truth weeks ago…I could've done it…but now…I want to keep her."

"Don't be stupid. All you'll do is curse your life."

"It's my life…and hers."

"Micah, her mind will not waver."

Micah broke away from Celeste's arms and knelt down near Gadreel.

"Then you must stay with her, Gadreel. You can heal at her place. Celeste can revoke her invitation from him and you'll be safe from harm there until you're well. It'll take what, a few weeks for a new wing to grow back?"

"Micah! You can't put him in my house without my consent."

"I'm trying to save your life! If those vampires smell his presence, they'll think others surround you. They wouldn't even think of coming near your house again. Gadreel is your best bet. We can drive him in Terry's truck. Are you strong enough to walk?"

Gadreel nodded.

"I can't leave New Orleans until I know you're not alone in this," Micah said.

"What will we say to our family?"

"They all think I'm the chaotic bisexual with hot feet. I'll tell them I'm on a travel adventure with friends and will return when I feel like it. Don't worry about me."

Celeste glanced at Gadreel. Micah helped the gargoyle stand. He was over seven feet tall.

"He's dormant for twelve hours during the day. He can sit in your sewing room and you won't even know he's there."

Celeste looked the creature up and down.

"Oh, I'll notice him."

"Will you do it? Gadreel saved my life when I was fifteen. A feral vampire almost took me out when I was walking home alone one night after football practice. I owe him, Duchess. This situation is fucked up and I'm sorry you're in the mix."

Celeste took a breath. Life without Micah would've been torture when she was a teenager. He'd been her best friend and favorite cousin for a reason. She loved him more like a brother all her life. Now he had to leave home because he tried to help her survive.

"I'll do it."

Energized by her answer, Micah helped guide Gadreel out of the church.

"Wait, Terry had the keys," Micah said.

"His truck uses a keypad for the doors. He leaves the key fob inside," she said.

Celeste quickly punched in the code on the touchpad under the door handle. Micah lifted the truckbed cover and Gadreel squeezed his bulky body under it.

Celeste checked Micah's wound. He brushed her hands away gently.

"I'll go to the hospital and get stitched and make up a story there. Random stabbing. They'll believe it. Don't talk to anyone in the family about me. I'll notify them with my fake plans. Let the family grapevine fill you in later. I have friends in Atlanta I can go to first, and I'll couch surf until I settle further away. If you change your mind, head to our cousins in California. Word will get back to me."

They quickly hugged for the last time, and he went to his car. She watched him drive off as fresh rain fell down. Looking at the church, Celeste wondered how people would react to what they found later. She glanced around the empty street, feeling a quiet calm. Taking a chance, she ran back into the church and sought for the silver chained rope. She grabbed it and ran back to the truck.

Gadreel moved around in her cottage like a bull in a china shop. His large body appeared laughable sitting inside of Celeste's home. He looked around and sniffed the scents inside.

"He stayed with you here?" he asked.

"Yes."

The gargoyle looked at the pictures on her wall and then turned his attention to her French doors.

"His sentinel is here," Gadreel said.

The shadow was back.

Terry's shadow.

"Do not move," Gadreel said.

He inched closer to the doors and Terry's shadow jerked back, but stayed.

"What is a sentinel?"

"Daywalkers can use their shadows as an emissary to watch over their bodies when they are inactive…asleep. It is a built-in warning system of protection from vampire hunters…and the Old Ones like me. But this is an anomaly. He's using his shadow to protect you."

"From other vampires?"

"Yes, and from other night creatures that roam when humans slumber. I think I am beginning to understand why he left you…why you are still alive."

"Why?"

"Vampires have to feed. They can go three to four days without drinking human blood if they aren't able to secure regular food sources. Once bitten, other vampires will stay clear of you because you belong to another. If he stayed here long enough for his scent to be trapped in this house, then he must've been starving and left to keep from killing you."

"He would kill me? Someone he's supposed to love?"

"He is a vampire, Celeste. He cannot go against his own nature…yet he is doing it. Daywalkers need their shadows with them. He'll become weak without it. Your life meant more to him than his own. Revoke your invitation from the Daywalker. The shadow will return to him and he will no longer be welcome in this house. If you want to keep your baby alive and safe from my kind, then do what I say."

"I'm supposed to trust you?"

"Your cousin did for fifteen years. He was your closest confidante. If he trusted me with his life, then you should do the same."

"You want my baby to live? Aren't you supposed to murder her when she comes out of me?"

"You are a portal. All women are portals for life to come through. If you revoke your invitation, I will tell you how to save your child…let it be born human."

Celeste gasped and moved closer to Gadreel. Terry's shadow loomed over them. Even through the rain outside, enough moon and starlight kept it visible.

She touched her stomach. As a mother, she had the power to protect the little one inside of her, no matter who the child's father was. Celeste loved Terry. Her time with him had been special, but something instinctual and primal took over her mind. If her daughter had a chance to be human, she would do what it took to make it so.

"Terry…you are no longer welcome in my home. I revoke my invitation to be here. Leave this place."

Terry's shadow arms flew up, and it rushed toward the double doors as if it wanted to ram the glass. Instead, it disappeared like water being shut off from a faucet. Instant and abrupt. Celeste touched her chest and exhaled hard.

"Sit," Gadreel said, pointing to her sectional.

She sat down and he crouched down on his haunches, tucking his only wing flat against his back. The pink glow from her lamps gave him a surreal expression. Although he was scary looking, there was a strange handsomeness to his sharply angular face. If someone walked into her home, they would think she was holding a conversation with Satan.

"What I will tell you will determine the fate of your child. So listen to me well. Terry wasn't a human before he was born. His mother was a vampire. Someone I knew when we lived with God."

"What?"

Gadreel closed his narrow eyes and sighed.

"The Old Ones…we were the angels that followed Lusīferi when God cast us out of heaven. Lusīferi wanted the first man and woman to have free will, but God wanted to inflict predetermination. They didn't trust humans."

"They?"

"God is neither male nor female. God is not even their name. If I said it in the language of heaven, you would perish. Human ears cannot handle the power or the mere utterance of the word."

"In the beginning was the word."

"Yes. The word that started creation. It was God's name…God calling upon itself. Lusīferi—"

"Satan?"

"Lusīferi…when they were banished, they chose to become a woman for Lilitu. Some humans called her Lilith…Adam's first human companion."

Celeste jumped up.

"I don't want to know this…just tell me how to save my baby!"

"You are frightened. I understand. You have been led to believe one version of the creation and being confronted with the truth is unnerving. But you must hear it."

Celeste nodded and rubbed her right hand on her thigh out of nervousness. Gadreel clasped his hands together, his claws clicking against each other.

"Lilitu was unhappy with Adam, and Lusīferi gave her comfort. They became lovers, and Lusīferi turned Lilitu into a vampire like her. All of us who stood with Lusīferi became vampires. But several millennia passed and those of us who followed the daystar yearned to return with God. God told us we would have to fight our siblings for ten thousand years, and we did. Our wings were restored to us, but not our ethereal beauty."

"What does this all have to do with Terry? Get to the point, please. I can't take any more biblical parables. My life and my baby are on the line."

Gadreel ignored her and continued.

"Lilitu and Lusīferi fed on humans and ruled over the fallen ones who stayed loyal to them. But a thousand years ago, they parted from one another. They wandered the earth in separate places. No one knows why. But over two hundred and sixty years ago, Lilitu fell in love with a human man here in New Orleans. She fell pregnant with a child. Terry."

Celeste's eyes grew enormous. She slid down from the sectional onto the floor and tucked her knees into her chest.

"Terry was the first and only known vampire conceived with the seed of a male human. Lilitu did not want her baby born a vampire. She sacrificed herself so that Terry could be born human."

"How did she do that?"

"I cut off her head while she was in labor and left her body in the open so the sun would do the rest. She burned away, leaving a human child behind. When nightfall came again, I took the child and left him on the doorstep of the Guidry family who his father belonged to. People who didn't know of his bloodline adopted him. He was their actual family. Terry's father had stepped out on his wife with Lilitu…then sold their child away, not knowing what he had done."

"I can't believe this."

"You must. It was Lusīferi who rescued Terry from the lynching. Turned him back into something Lilitu never wanted for him."

Celeste burst into tears and covered her face, fully understanding what she had to do to save her own child. Kill Terry so that his vampire blood wouldn't taint the baby.

"He wants this child you carry, Celeste. He wants to be in her life. It's why he fought so hard in the church and killed so many…even his own kind who want you dead. Terry has turned away from his clan. Has done so for ten years. They need him, but if they can't keep him, they will take your baby and use her for their protection and my destruction."

"Why did you help his mother?"

"She was innocent. She'd been a human once. I wanted to curry favor with God and show him that humanity was worth fighting for. Purely selfish reasons."

"Then why did you follow Lusīferi in the first place?"

"I thought she was right so long ago. But on earth, she changed into someone I did not understand. Her hatred for humans turned into feeding on them to spite God and his creation. I tried to save Terry once before. Now I want to help his child avoid his fate. You must find him on your own and kill him. Only then will the baby live properly. Your blood bond with him connects you and the child. Break that bond and you will be free."

Gadreel stood and wandered into the sewing room. She closed the door behind him and rested on her bed. Normally she would pray, but would God listen to her pleas to save a baby born of fallen ones?

In the darkness, she wept.

For herself…her baby…and Terry.

Part 15 soon come...

Masterlist.

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[otomehoneyybearr]

Kagari Amagase

Things You Can Only Do with You at Night: Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Card

(...It’s so quiet now.)

The festive sounds of the celebration echoed faintly in the distance.

After parting ways with Prince Kagari, I intended to visit more stalls, but one of the festival staff approached me and asked for a favor.

They needed someone to watch over their belongings while they escorted a lost child home.

(It’s probably because Prince Kagari had been by my side the whole time while I was helping out...)

(Does this mean the townsfolk trust me enough to ask for such a favor? If so, that makes me happy…)

Emma: "Ah…"

A booming sound, loud enough to shake my chest, erupted, and fireworks illuminated the night sky.

(Though, from here, the trees and rooftops block the view… What a shame.)

(I hope the lost child gets to watch the fireworks with their family.)

With each firework launched, cheers erupted from afar.

The quietness of the dim room suddenly felt isolating, almost melancholic. For some reason, Prince Kagari came to mind.

(Is he watching the fireworks?)

(I wonder if I’ll get to see him one more time before the festival ends…)

The thought slipped into my mind naturally and settled deep in my heart.

(The reason I felt disappointed when he disappeared wasn’t just because I wanted to talk more…)

(It was because I had secretly hoped we might enjoy the festival together.)

(He’s unpredictable, stealthy, and as elusive as a cat—always keeping me guessing what he’s thinking.)

(Maybe I’ve enjoyed my time with Prince Kagari more than I realized.)

Perhaps it’s because he was the first person to reach out to me when I arrived in Kogyoku.

(Oh… the fireworks have ended.)

The room grew even darker and quieter.

As the breeze swept in, brushing against my skin, a strange sense of loneliness welled up within me.

Kagari: “Lost in thought, princess?”

Emma: "Wah!?"

Startled, I stumbled backward as Prince Kagari’s striking face suddenly appeared, far too close for comfort.

He always shows up so abruptly, it’s enough to make me wonder if his true goal is to stop my heart.

(But... I did get to see him again before the festival ended.)

Kagari: “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to scare you.”

Emma: “...No, it’s partly because I was lost in thought.”

Kagari: “Hmm? You’re smiling now. What’s on your mind?”

Emma: “N-Nothing at all! It’s just your imagination.”

(There’s no way I could tell him I was thinking about him... My face feels so hot!)

Emma: “Um, why are you here, Prince Kagari?”

Kagari: “I heard you were keeping an eye on some luggage.”

Emma: “...You came here just to see me?”

Kagari: “Is that a problem?”

Emma: “N-Not at all. Not one bit.”

(He really just came because he heard I was here.)

(There’s no deep reason behind it, but maybe that’s why it feels so unexpectedly heartwarming.)

Kagari: “...”

Emma: “Huh? Um, Prince Kagari, what are you... Wait, you’re way too close! What’s going on!?”

Prince Kagari had suddenly crawled closer on all fours, making me instinctively back away.

But before I could escape, he grabbed my hand, preventing me from moving. Then, to my disbelief, he leaned in and pressed his ear against my chest.

Kagari: "Your heartbeat is all over the place. Were you that startled?"

(That’s part of it, but still…!)

Emma: "My irregular heartbeat is entirely because you have no concept of personal space!"

Kagari: "You always react amusingly when I get close."

Emma: "…Please stop teasing me."

(It feels like Prince Kagari is really going to make my heart stop someday…)

(Wait… what’s that smell?)

A faint scent brushed past my nose.

It was the metallic smell of iron, one I’d encountered many times in Kogyoku. My body tensed instinctively.

Kagari: "Don’t worry, it’s not my blood."

Emma: "Then… whose?"

Prince Kagari pulled back and casually sat cross-legged beside me.

Kagari: "I just dealt with some troublesome guests. Festivals are perfect cover for misdeeds—breaking in, secret meetings, theft, even murder. The lively atmosphere hides it all."

Kagari: "In such situations, there’s only one thing for me to do —an ambush.”

Kagari: "Not that there were that many of them tonight, though."

The scent of blood must have been masked by the festival’s various aromas earlier. Perhaps even when I saw him in the alley, he carried the same scent.

Listening to Prince Kagari speak of such things as if they were routine made my chest tighten painfully.

I hesitated, unsure of what to say but after a moment of silence, I quietly opened my mouth.

Emma: "This is my first time attending a festival in Kogyoku, and I’ve been overwhelmed by how lively it is. Everyone, both locals or visitors, is smiling..."

Emma: "And now, hearing the unending bustle, I realize it’s thanks to you quietly protecting it all behind the scenes."

Emma: "I’m glad you’re so strong, but I’m even more relieved that you’re unharmed."

Kagari: "..."

Kagari: "That’s one way to think about it, I suppose."

After pausing to think for a moment, Prince Kagari leaned back on his hands and looked at me.

Kagari: "You really are the type to get the short end of the stick, princess."

Emma: "Why do you say that?"

Kagari: "You're a guest from another land, after all. You didn't need to help out on the day of the festival."

Kagari: "Let me take over as the watchperson. The fireworks may be over, but the festival still has some time left. Go enjoy it."

Emma: "Thank you for your consideration, but I was the one who agreed to this, so I’d like to see it through to the end."

Kagari: "You were thoroughly enjoying the festival earlier, going stall by stall. Are you sure about this? If you go now—"

Emma: "Wait a moment. How do you know I was going stall by stall?"

Emma: "...Did you perhaps… follow me?"

Kagari: "..."

Emma: "I didn’t notice at all."

Kagari: "I was on rooftops and in trees. You were probably so absorbed in the festival you didn’t notice."

(From places like that!? That’s why he appeared from above in the alley.)

(Ugh… He saw me completely enjoying myself at the festival!)

But it’s not like he would have been watching me the entire time while he was protecting the town. Still, the embarrassment made my face feel as though it was on fire.

Emma: "If you were following me, you could have just joined me."

(If tailing me was easier for him, then I guess it couldn’t be helped…)

Prince Kagari tilted his head, looking genuinely puzzled by my words.

Kagari: "I thought you wanted to enjoy the festival alone."

Emma: "Huh? I didn’t think that at all…"

Kagari: "You told the candy shop boy so."

●●●●●● Flashback ●●●●●●

Child 1: "We’re working super hard to prepare, so Teacher, you and the lady should come check it out!"

Emma: "Sure, I’ll definitely come!"

●●●●●● Flashback End ●●●●●●

(If I didn’t invite him then, it probably did seem like I planned to go alone.)

(I get it, but… why does this feel like some strange misunderstanding?)

(He always seems to figure out what I’m thinking faster than I do…)

(...Maybe Prince Kagari wanted to join me at the festival too, and that’s why he followed me?)

(No, no, it’s Prince Kagari. It was probably just a whim.)

I suddenly noticed his emotionless jade-green eyes fixed on me.

Kagari: "Did you want to go around the festival with me Princess?"

(Ugh… Hearing it directly from him is so embarrassing…)

There was no reason to lie about the feelings I had realized. I nodded softly.

Emma: "I think so."

Emma: "...It made me happy when you called out to me in the alley earlier."

Kagari: "...I see."

Kagari: "..."

Emma: "..."

(What do I do about this atmosphere?)

Struggling to contain the itch of unease that threatened to overwhelm me, I coughed softly into the silence that had fallen once again.

I wished for anyone—anything—to break the tension.

As if my wish had been granted, hurried footsteps echoed, and a man burst into the room.

Man: "Miss Emma, thank you so much for watching over everything! You’ve been such a great help—oh, Prince Kagari?!"

Kagari: "Did you get the lost child safely home?"

Man: "Y-Yes, no injuries or anything."

Kagari: "Good work. I’ll leave the rest to you."

Kagari: "Let’s go, Princess."

He grabbed my hand, and I followed him carefully so as not to trip as we walked down the hallway.

Emma: "Um, where are we going?"

Kagari: "Where else but the festival?"

Prev | Next

▼・ᴥ・▼

[mybreadsmybutters]

i actually am like. reasonably extroverted. i just also kind of want to kill myself anytime somebody perceives me as a woman which makes doing literally anything feel like navigating the minefield of “is this dear friend who i’ve known for years who i’m not out to going to unintentionally and innocently say something that’s going to make me spiral for the next three days”. ALL of which could be avoided if i simply Was Out to people however if One (1) singular more person i know and care about says some truly insane bizarre and weird bullshit after i come out the way EVERY single person i have ever come out to in person in the HISTORY of my ENTIRE life has i am genuinely worried im going to snap in a way that will finally force them to put me in the psych ward

[lavellane]

like out of all the many, many traumas ive given elspeth my favorite has gotta be the deep roads lol. and specifically the way she never really got OUT of them. yeah so maybe her body did but not HER. shes still down there with ruck and helspith every time she closes her eyes. and during future expeditions when she goes down into the deep roads for real, it doesnt feel like some horrible nightmare it feels like REALITY and its the surface and love and warmth and alistair thats nothing more than a pleasant dream. one shes always going to wake up from. bc even in her happiest moments she's never not aware of the darkspawn digging up towards her just a few miles under her feet. and never not feeling the eyes of the deep roads looking at her, gleefully waiting for her, and knowing its not going anywhere

[lesbian-salamander]

splatoon (especially 3) is just "simultaneously the best and worst thing ever" in every aspect isnt it.

the character design is so amazingly creative but god forbid a woman is fat or non-humanoid

the world-building and lore is so well crafted filled with care but the story is always mediocre with a singular paid exception

the gameplay loop between all modes is so smooth and the way each weapon plays even if weak is still fun but if you have motion sickness have fun playing with a insane disadvantage, or if you have carpal tunnel you just dont get to play 2 weapons, or if you get easily overwhelmed with the music you dont even get to turn it off

and if youre into competitive, patches are usually making the game better but do nothing about what the real problems are at best or slowly build up to create new problems

[here-there-were-dragons]

every time i think the "staff can do no wrong and any form of complaining or expressing literally anything other than "yaaay love it <3" with no further comments is bashing and literally evil we should never say anything that could even potentially be interpreted as mildly critical ever because ~some artist who worked hard on this is probably reading the forums and might feel bad if we ever express anything but praise~ also we must be constantly positive at all times unless we're passive-aggressively shaming someone for having an extremely polite and apologetically worded criticism and if you ask the staff for literally anything you had better be prepared to preface it with 3 paragraphs of apologizing for breathing air" attitude is bad on tumblr, i take one look at the forums, and holy fucking hell is it SO much worse on site

[kerorowhump]

[dunmesh]

okay i don't have anything smart to add i just genuinely love that these seemingly trivial jokes are actually an important part of his character. we see it throughout the entire manga, how he pushes aside his own frustration and discomfort to accommodate everyone else's and avoid needless confrontation- another example off the top of my head would be the barometz chapter in which he slowly gets frustrated with izutsumi but still tries his best to talk some sense into her calmly and soundly.

and in contrast, there are very few times he expresses his anger and hurt towards others, and it usually takes a lot for him to finally lose his patience and control.

i mean, even with kabru he tried to be polite despite the circumstances until the guy said the one thing that triggers an immense sense of shame, hurt and rage in laios. and you know, the manga does say it quite clearly early on. when we are introduced to namari and then to shuro, laios acts all friendly and shows his respect and trust in them despite how things ended between them, and everyone else gets frustrated with him for acting so strange- why are you the one who tries so hard to pacify the rest when you should be the angriest?

and they don't understand him. they don't know him well enough to be able to understand, but we as readers get to see during the manga that they aren't wrong to question him- he does, in fact, feel all those ugly emotions. and it's when the winged lion finally confronts him that we see to what extent these feelings he buried so deep go, and suddenly all those funny little moments where he sometimes pretends to be mr nice guy speak volumes about his character. honestly, ryoko kui is a master at using jokes in order to define important character traits and this one doesn't fail to amaze me.

and laios's hatred and rage and deep scars he can't get over aren't shown explicitly during most of these moments i mentioned before, but now you realize there are 26 years of emotional baggage to all of them and they sting. he is angry but he can't say shit, what difference would it make? it won't make his friends choose him instead of themselves when he needed them most, and it won't help his party get any farther. of course, this logic doesn't apply to them- they are absolutely allowed to get angry and it's fine to get mad at him, he can take that.

so after finishing the series it's so clear that he tries his best to avoid clashing with others not just due to the current circumstances and him needing to be a reliable leader but also because he knows that people don't even like him when he tries to show his good sides and hide all the rest, so who the hell would tolerate his rage and despair? who would stay after realizing that he is so deeply flawed he doesn't even like his own being?

but he does get mad. he can't help it, and sometimes it gets out of control and now everyone knows. and it's funny, isn't it? that most of those moments ended up bringing him closer to others. shuro admitting he is envy of him and actually becoming the friend laios thought he was all along, fighting for his sake and waiting for him to come back- believing in him even after he turned into a monster and searching for him the way he couldn't bring himself to do for falin when he learned of what became of her- or kabru being pushed to just let it all out because he couldn't bluff his way out of this one and get to laios any other way, so now they are even. they are both horribly honest with each other and they both choose to stay. a weird way of getting to know each other, but it is what it is.

it's simply... the more laios let himself just be, the deeper his relationships grew. and there's intimacy in being your ugly, weak and furious self around someone and them not leaving you. feeling safe enough to let it be known you are hurt and angry. and he knows that now, too.

[shoyudon]

𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐈 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 .ᐟ

them forgetting a date night.

starring. gojo, sukuna, toji x fem! reader

heads up. cursing, no fluff, sukuna can use a phone (bcs u taught him lol /j), sukuna calling u "woman"

note. haiii, how are you guys doing? make sure to take care of yourself!! i'm feeling a bit angsty today, so i'm gonna write a bit of angst. i miss gojo, like so much u guys :( i might make a part two for this btw hehe

──────〃★ 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

the one thing you hated more than people being late was people who don't keep their promises — your boyfriend wasn't an exception to it. gojo's a busy man, you get it. for months you haven't been able to see him because he was so caught up in the jujutsu world; he saves people dan and night from lingering curses that it broke you a bit.

the jujutsu world treats him like a weapon; and you never liked it. despite your constant battering on him, trying to get him to quit and just settled in for a quiet life, he tells you that he can't. that people needed him, and you felt selfish.

but isn't it fine to be selfish sometimes?

clutching onto your phone, you'd tried dialing gojo's number at least six times before he answers. his voice groggy and slow, as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep, "huh . . . hello?"

you wanted to yell at him, especially because he was the one who has been reminding you about this particular date night — and he was the one to forget about it, "good sleep?" you ended up asking him, voice hard.

"y/n . . . why did you—"

"why did i call? oh, i don't know. maybe because my boyfriend stood me up for an hour and a half. i look like an idiot sitting here, satoru," you mutter out in embarrassment, avoiding the lingering gazes from both waiters and waitresses around you.

for the past hour, you've lost count of how many times you'd ask them to refill your glass of tea — embarrassing. then telling them you were waiting for someone when they tried to ask you if you were going to order anything since there were people waiting for a table, just for the said person not showing up.

"what time is— oh, fuck. baby, i'm so sorry, i fell asleep when i was work—"

before he could finish his words, you finished it for him, "working. i get it, you're always working. clearly, you don't have time for anything else, right?" you ask him, signaling the waiter nearby for the bill.

"baby, i know. i'm so sorry, i'm on my way, okay? please," he whispers. you could hear a few shuffling on the background; along with a few curses he muttered under his breath as he stumble over his feet, mind hazy from all the sudden movements he was doing despite just waking up.

"no need. i'm leaving the place," you mutter, walking out of the restaurant — heels clacking on the pavement, "and 'm leaving you, because clearly you're not ready for a relationship, so bye."

gojo yells out, "what? no, baby. i swear — i'll make it up to you, please. don't leave me . . ." he rambled on the same words over and over again, "where are you? i'm picking you up. please, can we talk about this? i'm sorry, i know i should've—"

"bye, satoru," and with that you ended the call.

──────〃★ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍

you fiddled the hem of your dress as you sat inside the almost closed restaurant, the last speck of hope you had on your boyfriend —sukuna— dissipating into hopelessness. standing up you walked over to the cashier, taking out your card to pay for the one glass of shrimp cocktail and one glass of white wine.

the cashier shot you a sympathetic look, and you didn't dare to look her into her eyes. face hard from embarrassment and shame, "thank you for coming, come again next time, ma'am . . ." she bids you goodbye as she returns your card.

walking out of the restaurant that now had the 'closed' sign flipped made your stomach churn in mixed feelings: anger, embarrassment, shame, sadness, everything all at once.

sinking your nails onto the palm of your hand, you muttered out strings of curses. you knew being in a relationship with someone who had no understanding to the concept of love was a hard thing — but honestly, you thought you got a hang of it. all this time you had been nothing but patient with sukuna, but maybe even that wasn't enough for him.

three hours. you sat alone inside the restaurant you booked for the both of you for three hours — each hour depleting your hope even more. and sukuna just managed to fuck it up even after he said he'd try. well, you should've underlined the keyword there: he said he'd try not that he'd come.

maybe you saw it coming yet it still disappointed you anyways.

your phone rang. even before you see who it was — you knew it's none other than sukuna. your heart screamed at you to answer his phone call, but your mind told you to leave it ringing because you were in no mood to talk to him. yet, at the end — you still pressed the answer button.

"what?"

"where are you?" his rough voice echoed through the line as you walked down the nearly empty street, holding onto your purse, "place's closed."

scoffing, you answered, "'f course it's closed, it's almost ten. i've been waiting for three hours, ryo. three hours."

you could hear him inhale sharply, "i was caught up with something, woman. where are you now?" he questioned. hearing a few car honking behind on the background, "where are you? answer me."

"doesn't matter, i left. and i'm leaving you, i was wrong thinking maybe i could've changed you — turns out, i couldn't. good luck to you," you mutter out sternly.

sukuna raised a brow, "y're kidding."

you weren't, and all he could hear next was the loud dial tune of the other line hanging up — now did he realize that this was all serious and you were actually leaving him for good.

──────〃★ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

you sighed, dialing toji for the first time of the night when he said that he was going to pick you up for a date, the phone rung for a while before going into voicemail. grumbling under your breath, you tried dialing him again for the second time, which ended up the same way.

all these time spent on makeup and picking out the best outfit — all for nothing as your boyfriend, toji failed to show up on time. angry, you tried calling him again for the third time, only for it to end up in voicemail yet again. this time you decided to leave a message for him.

"hey, you forgot. didn't you? hope you're happy with yourself, cause 'm not."

dating toji wasn't the easiest — but you love him, no matter what he was like. and it was stupid of you to do so, all this time you've defended his name against your friends' malice towards him, saying how he wasn't treating you well enough and that you deserved so much better.

despite all that, you love him. disregarding their words, retorting back to how toji treats you well, which he does — except for the times he tended to forget about everything, even you. maybe it was time to open your eyes and actually break up; because you did deserve better than this.

it would be a shame to let all this makeup go to waste, and so you hailed a cab and decided to go out for a treat. and made the best out of everything, that is until toji decided it would be the most convenient time to call you back amidst your little "me time".

wiping your hand on the napkin, you answered him, "huh, you're alive," you muttered out, huffing.

he sighs, "i forgot, sorry." you couldn't see him, but toji actually looked remorseful, already on his way out of his apartment to yours, "i'm on my way."

you chuckled, "doesn't matter. i left my house," you informed, taking a bite out of the crab meat, "so don't bother coming — and i don't think i don't deserve this kind of treatment from anyone, even you, toji. i'm breaking up with you because clearly you don't take this relationship as seriously as i am."

toji furrowed his brows, "i forgot, i fucked up, i can make it up. where are you right now?" he asks, his voice still as calm as cucumber. but the look on his face contradicted the tone of his voice.

"bye, toji. good luck."

© shoyudon 2024 . no copying or reposting allowed !

[allllium]

Personal Pillow

~ Fluff, Jason being a baby, WC: 419

~ Jason rips his only pillow, somehow he's okay with it

"It's been a week, Jay, you need a new pillow." You tell him in exasperation.

"No I don't." He pouts.

"Yes you do! Who only has one pillow anyway!?" You stare at him as if he's insane. (He is)

"I have all the pillows I need!"

"I am not your pillow!" You run your hands over your face.

"But you're so comfy." He continues pouting, looking almost ridiculous with the way he juts out his bottom lip.

"And you're huge, you'll crush me in my sleep." You exclaim, gesturing to the large man in front of you.

"Body shaming. I can't believe this." You let out a deep sigh.

"Jason, shut the fuck up." You plead, needing to be rid of this stupidity.

"Why? So you can continue bullying me?"

"I'm not bullying you, I just said you can't keep using me as a pillow." Jason looks away from you. He sits down on the couch with an overly upset manner.

"It's the same thing." he hangs his head down and crosses his arms over his chest. You almost laugh at the sight of a grown man pouting like a child because you told him to buy a new pillow.

"Jason, baby, you're getting a pillow. I'm not letting you mess up your neck by sleeping on me every night." You explain as gently as possible.

"Fine but I'm not using it."

You roll your eyes at his childish antics. "Whatever you say." You smile at him.

After you get home from the store Jason's mood has picked up significantly. For a moment you go over everything in your life that has led to this exact moment. He got a pillow.

A child's pillow.

A child's pillow with a Red Hood design.

"I am somehow shocked. I should've known this was coming." You say, walking in the front door.

"Well you didn't want me sleeping on you, so I'll sleep on myself." He declares. Immediately walking towards the bedroom to put his new pillow in it's home.

"It's a child's pillow, Jason. It's barely big enough to fit your head." You fall down onto the bed. A second later, Jason joins you.

"It's perfectly fine." He picks it up and lays it on your stomach. Laying his head on you and the pillow, "See everything's perfect."

"This was not the point of the pillow. In fact it's the opposite." You run your fingers through Jason's hair as he pulls you closer.

Maybe being his personal pillow isn't so bad.

[cvpidzcvrse]

𝔄𝔯𝔢 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔉'𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔩?

MDNI, skadaddle nigga

✦A/N: i swear i try to post more but like but sitting on my ass is just rlly fun to do. BUT OFC I CANT BE GONE FOR LONGG!! also i didn’t proofread so ignore typos. here’s an ony fic that i pushed out my pussy bc i’m hot like that. ENJOY!

⋆.ೃ࿔*･Synopsis: You and ony have been fwb for a few months now. On a strict “no emotions involved” type of situation. But he can’t help it if he gets jealous when you start talking to someone else. Your famous last words? "Make me, nigga."

⋆.ೃ࿔*･Wc: 2,233

⋆.ೃ࿔*･Warnings: Mdom, argument, jealous ony, degradation, light choking, oral male!receiving, manhandling, spanking, face fucking, orgasm denial, fingering, very little praise, he’s mean asf, p in v, and finishing inside (practice safe sex)

(reader is black)

You and Onyankapon have been friends with benefits for a couple of months now. It all started because you wanted to lose your virginity badly. You were gnawing at the bars of your enclosure, being that dick hungry you put pornstars to shame. But you didn’t want to lose something so special to someone you barely knew. So you went down a line of people you knew, most of them you immediately shot down. Connie was a whore, Armin had a girlfriend, Jean is…Jean, so what was left was your best friend. He took the opportunity and ran with it, now you guys fuck at least twice a week.

Ony made the sex strictly just sex, with no relationship or strings attached. Just adults blowing off steam almost every weekend. He said it was ok to talk to other people, that’s where Eren comes in. You met him through Armin 2 weeks ago and you guys haven't stopped talking since. Even now, you’re at Ony’s house watching a movie but you can’t separate your eyes from your screen. He invited you over with the notion of just “watching a movie” but he just wanted to fuck, and you knew that. 

“Me Personally, I’d definitely survive in the quiet place. Like all you have to do is be quiet, it’s easy.”

You nod your head slowly, paying no attention to Ony’s statement. Your fingers are flying across your phone, you’re having a deep conversation with Eren. Ony looks over at you and rolls his eyes, you can feel his attitude radiating off of him and steam coming out of his ears.

“My nigga, you’re not even listening to me,” 

“First, I’m not ‘your nigga’. Secondly, I am listening…”

You trail off after hearing your phone go off with a ding. You snatch your phone out of your lap quickly and start typing away. He gives you the most crazed look he can muster. 

“Nigga, are you f’real?”

You look over at Ony’s reaction and the fact that he’s acting like such a drama queen right now. There’s no way he’s hurt by the fact that you’re talking to other people. He’s the one who made the rules in the first place, so why does he care who you talk to? He’s starting to regret his rule-making skills. Your flawless brown skin-pops with your white hoodie and sweatpants to match. Even before y’all started hooking up he thought you were the most beautiful person ever. 

“Damn, what the fuck are you talking about? Are you good?”

You frowned at his outburst, confused by the sudden change in tone. You finally put your phone to the side and put your attention on Ony. 

“You’ve been on your phone this whole fucking time. Paying absolutely no attention to me or the movie. Who are you even texting?”

“No One-” 

Ding..

Ony groans before snatching your phone out of your lap and softly pushing you back from getting it. You get up from your position on the couch and start reaching over his head but his grip on your wrist won’t budge. 

“Let’s see who you’re so fucking focused on…”

He looks at the screen and goes silent before turning his head at you. You’re standing there with an overly irked look, hands on your hips, and eyeing him up and down.

“...Eren!? Eren fucking Jeager!? Don’t tell me you’re actually talking to that sorry ass nigga?’

You roll your eyes at his possessiveness. There’s no reason why he should be concerned about who you text and who you decide to mingle with. It’s your pussy and can determine who it wants, right? 

“It’s not something you should be concerned about. Shit, just give me the dick so I can leave, that’s why you called me over right?”

His eyes go wide at your boldness. He can’t tell if you’re upset or just trying to rile him up—either way, it’s making him go insane. 

“Take that bass out yo’ voice mama. I’m looking out for you, Eren isn’t the type you want. Stop talking to that nigga”

He pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue showing clear signs of irritation. His baritone voice sends chills down your spine. Even when he’s irritated he still looks handsome, the warning look in his eyes makes your pussy clench.

“Who are you talking to right now? I ain’t gotta do shit, f’real. I’m not gonna let some Chiptole bag-tatted ass nigga tell me what the fuck to do.” 

Ony’s eyes are bulging out of his head and the vein on his forehead is starting to grow. He isn't fond of your attitude, he snatched you up multiple times because of it. He slowly gets up from his spot on the couch, now looking down at you with a dark look in his eye. 

“Watch your tone…”

He says eerily calm, his low voice coming out as silk to your ears. It’s like he’s talking directly to your pussy and she’s listening to every word he’s saying. Instead of standing down like he said you decide to stand on business, which is one mistake amongst many.

“Make me, nigga..”

You scuffed and rolled your eyes. That statement alone made Ony let out a rich chuckle, his face displaying a cheeky smirk. Before you even have time to gauge his actions you feel his callous hand wrap around your neck, forcing you to look up at him.

“Make you what? Say it again..”

He whispers seductively in your ear. You turn away from him before he roughly drags your face back to his. You shake your head not wanting to even breathe, You started this mess now he has to finish it. 

“The cock slut doesn’t wanna speak, huh? Take off your clothes since you want my dick so badly.”

The tent in his pants is now noticeable. He lets go of your neck and sits back down on the couch. You start untying your sweatpants, then slowly taking over your panties, followed by your hoodie and bra. Now you’re standing in front of him, all dignity stripped away with your clothes. 

“Get on your knees and suck this dick, I’ll show you exactly how to watch that mouth one of yours.” 

You nod before sitting in front of him unbuckling his belt. You slide down his pants to reveal his bulging cock through his underwear. You slowly pull down his underwear, earning a scuff from Ony. He pushes your hand away and pulls his cock out himself. His leaking mushroom tip was just inches away from your face. 

“Open your mouth.”

His passionless voice makes your clit throb and your stomach drop. He’s giving you no mercy tonight and you know that. You open your mouth wide as directed and impatiently wait for his next. He chuckles at how pitiful you look at this moment, taking a mental snapshot in his head. You’re waiting for his next command, your hand in between your thighs as you subtly grind on your hand for some type of friction. He grabs the base of his cock and slaps the tip on your tongue. 

“You like this shit, don’t you? Go on, suck it.”

You wrap your plump lips around his big cock, bobbing your head slowly. You trace circles around his tip with your tongue. He lets out a string of groans, feeling your warm mouth wrapped around his cock. He grabs the back of your neck and pushes you down on his cock roughly. You gag when his cock grazes the back of your throat with force. Tears swell in your eyes as he fucks your face senselessly. The vibrations of your moans drive him crazy, your muffled moans and tears send him over the edge. 

“Mhm…Swallow this cock—fuck”

His head lays on the couch cushion behind him. His hand travels from your neck to the back of your head, gripping your hair harshly. Your faux locs are now scrunched up in his hand. He starts pushing your head down rougher as his pace starts getting sloppy. You feel his cock twitch in your mouth and hot tears flow down your face. 

“Fuck–I’m about to cum. Make me cum, slut.” 

You moan at his command, your fingers travel down to your soaked pussy, and start massaging your aching clit. You hollow your cheeks and bob your head at his messy tempo pushing him closer and closer to his climax. White ropes shoot down your throat, and the warm thick substance slides your throat. His dick flops out your mouth with a ‘pop’. You rub fast circles on your clit wanting to cum as hard as he did. Right before you make it you feel Ony grab your wrist, halting any movement. 

“Who said you could touch yourself? Get up…”

You pout at your ruined orgasm. You get up before he grabs your waist and pulls you onto his lap. Your ass grazes his cock and your back is to his chest. He spreads your legs and hands as he traces small circles on your clit. Your head falls back in satisfaction, he smoothly inserts two of his long fingers inside your damp cunt. You grab his arm roughly, leaving dark nail marks on his tatted skin. His finger moves in and out of you with wet sounds accompanying it. 

“F…fuck…right there..”

You whine into his neck when you feel his pace quicken. He’s knuckles deep inside of you, the speed of his strokes increasing by the second. He chuckles at the sight, you’re drooling, your eyes screwed shut, and pornographic moans flooding the living room.

He groans as you squirm in his lap, your bare ass rubbing against his hard cock. He uses his other hand to rub your sensitive clit. Your grip tightens on his arm, your nail prints getting deeper every time he picks up his pace. His fingers plunging into your cunt with such speed and aggression brings you closer to your orgasm. 

“F—Fuck…s…slow down…I’m about…to—”

Ony chuckles before pausing his movement. He removes his fingers from your sloppy pussy and trails his hand over to your ass and gives it a small squeeze. 

“Only good girls get to cum. C’mon, face down ass up. Right now.” 

You whine at the absence of friction and he gives your ass a hard ‘Smack’ in response. He tossed you over to the other side of the couch before turning you on your stomach. He slides his cock on your warm slit, teasing your greedy pussy. He gives your ass a sharp slap before plunging his cock into your pussy without warning. 

You let out a porno-worthy moan and grab one of the couch cushions for stability. Ony quickly picks up the pace, abusing your cervix with every stroke. He gives your ass a couple of harsh slaps before grabbing the back of your neck and pushing your face into the couch cushion. The living room is overflowing with moans, grunts, and the sound of your sopping wet pussy. You put your hand back to stop Ony’s forceful thrust. 

“S—Shit…slo—ow…down…fuck” 

“Nah, Take this shit…Fuck, you’re such a slut.” 

Ony slaps your hand away before placing both of his hands on your hips, pulling you deeper into every thrust. You stifle your moans with your both as the bully of your pussy continues. 

‘Ding’

‘Ding’

You hear him groan as his strokes cease. He grabs your phone from the other side of the couch before scoffing at the name. 

“What the fuck does this lame ass nigga want?... Hold on.” 

You can hear the smirk in his voice, his cock going at a slower pace than before. You let out a few whimpers that earn you a harsh slap on your already stinging ass. 

“Hush…” 

His monotone voice sends chills down your spine. You have no clue what's going on behind you until you notice the shadow of your silhouette on the neighboring wall. 

‘Is that a flashlight? Wait…is he recording?’

Before you can confirm your answer he goes back to abusing your pussy. You muffle a moan with the pillow in front of you. He presses your body against the couch, the only thing talking is the wetness of your pussy.

“Shit…She’s talking to me, mama. C’mon, tell him who this pussy belongs to.”

You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out but slutty moans. He gives your ass a hard smack, placing his free hand on your lower back. 

“Y-You! F—Fuck!... You do! You own this…mmph…slutty pussy!”

You choke out, completely cock drunk. You hear him chuckle and groan. You pussy turning him into a mess also. His strokes begin to get messy and you feel his cock twitch inside of you. 

“Shit mama…cum on my cock baby .”

He reaches his free hand around to trace circles on your clit.  Almost like clockwork, you leave your juices all over his cock and coat his shaft in a slippery mess. You feel his tip hit your G-spot a few more times before you feel his warm and sticky cum engulf your inside. His cock is covered in both of your juices, a ring of the mix at the base of his cock. 

Your brain is fogged with lust, you can barely think right now. All you can see are stars and darkness before finally feeling him pull out. 

“Did my dick feel good?”

“Mhm…”

“You’re my slut, right?”

“Mhm…” 

“Thank you, mama."

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