#i WANT to ask what I should do with my collection of canes now that I don’t need them to go grocery shopping | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tokkias · 24 days

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through the lens of my fingertips ship: natsu dragneel x lucy heartfilia summary: They say that when you lose your vision, your other senses become heightened to compensate. Lucy thinks that’s true enough. Losing the sense that she has relied upon the most throughout her life proves difficult at first but that's not to say she forgets the world around her. As her fingertips graze down Natsu's jaw she paints an image in her mind that she's determined to never forget. ao3

happy birthday @shiiro-arts !! ur blind lucy au lives rent free in my mind, i hope this fic lives rent free in yours

They say that when you lose your vision, your other senses become heightened to compensate. Lucy thinks that’s true enough. She’s nowhere near Natsu’s level, but with her new reliance on her ears, she’s become adept at differentiating her guildmates based on their pace, their footsteps, their breathing.

Her improved hearing is certainly helpful, but she finds that touch is the easiest way to navigate the new world she’s found herself in. Natsu refuses to let her out of his sight for the first few months, acting as her guide, but as much as she loves him, she yearns for independence, and she’s not about to let a little lack of sight get in the way of that. She uses a cane to get around for the most part, but her hands provide her with a little more precision in situations where she needs it.

Relying on her hands so much in her new everyday life gives her a new perspective. She notices things that she wouldn’t have given much mind to when she could still see, because now it’s one of the only ways she can visualise the world around her. She notices just how plush her blankets are, her fingers running over the soft pile of the fabric, relishing in the feeling of it against her fingertips. She values the tactile elements of some of her books—the indents of the title on the cover, the raised bump of the spine, the texture of the leather binding it together. She can’t read the words held within it anymore, but it still brings her comfort to be able to differentiate and recognise them on her shelf by touch when she picks one out for Natsu to read to her.

Finding comfort in the tactile is not something she limits to her possessions and collections. The last thing she wants to do is forget the world around her, and one way she tries to prevent it is to examine it through the new lens of her fingertips.

“You’ve been using my moisturiser again,” she says.

She almost wants it to be a reprimand, but it comes out more as a statement than anything. Natsu’s face is unusually soft under her touch, but she doesn’t really mind it.

“It makes my face feel nice,” he replies, and she cannot contest.

Her hands gently cradle his jaw as she connects the shapes she feels under her palms with the image she holds of Natsu in her mind. Tan skin, strong jawline, and newly soft skin. He’s got a little bit of stubble, but not much—he thinks he looks silly with facial hair. Lucy says he looks handsome; he reminds her that she can’t even see what it looks like. She tells him that she doesn’t need to see it to know it’s true.

She brings her fingers up to his hairline, where she realises his hair is down. The corners of her lips quirk up in a smile, and she takes it as an excuse to run them through his hair. He practically purrs as she lightly drags her nails across his scalp, and it elicits a soft laugh from her.

“Is it getting longer?” She asks, noting how it seems to take longer for her to reach the tips of his hair than before.

“Yeah,” he hums in affirmation. “You think I should cut it?”

She holds pause for a moment as she tries to imagine what he looks like, his spiky, rosy hair now grown into shaggy locks.

“No, I don’t think so.”

She lightly drags her hands down until her thumbs rest on the space just below his eye. His eyes flutter closed, which she can feel in his lashes brushing against her fingers, tickling her slightly, and she takes the chance to gently run the pads of her thumbs over his eyelids. Each dip and crease is burned into her memory, pieced together to form the puzzle that is her Natsu.

She hopes that they will be together long enough that she can begin to feel each wrinkle and smile line permanently form on his face. Part of her resents the fact that she will never see him grow old, but she tries to bury that feeling by running her thumb down the bridge of his nose until she reaches the tip. Leaning forward, she places her lips against it, and she feels him scrunch his nose up in response. She knows he’s just doing it to be a pain, but even his faux-disgust elicits a laugh anyway. It’s nice being able to envision the expression he’s making from touch alone.

Fingers trailing down his face, her thumb trails down his cupids bow before resting it on his lips. He turns his head so they rest in her palm, and she feels him pucker them to press a kiss into the soft skin. She feels her face heat up in a blush, and even though she can’t see it, she can feel the corner of his lips quirk up into a smirk against her hand. Natsu’s not much of a traditional romantic, but then he does stuff like this—things that are so distinctly Natsu that she can’t help the way her heart flutters in her chest.

He brings his own hands up to cradle her face, and she leans into the warmth of his touch. His thumbs rub gentle circles on the apples of her cheeks, and she smiles into it. He’s always been an affectionate type of guy, but this intimate sort of face touching is reciprocal—something he wouldn’t have done had it not been for her initiating. There’s no real reason for him to do it when he can see every dip and crease in her face, but it’s nice to feel it, to know he’s there, to experience the same feeling he does when she does it to him. It makes her feel less alone in it all.

It’s not long before she feels his warm breath against her lips, and she knows to pucker up before feeling his against them. She doesn’t need to see to kiss him, so she just relishes in the taste of his lips and the feeling of them melding against hers. They’re a little bit chapped, but they always have been, so she doesn’t mind too much. When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against hers, and she’s certain that he can feel the warmth radiating from her cheeks.

“You’re blushing,” he says in observation, confirming her suspicion. He says it with a teasing tone underlying his words, and it only serves to make her flush brighter, which she suspects is his intention.

She can feel him pull away and estimate his position by the feeling of his breath against her face. Unfortunately, not even that prepares her for the ruin of their tender moment when she feels his tongue drag over her cheek and hears the proceeding cackle he lets out.

“Natsu!” She yells out. “That’s so gross!”

She wipes her cheek with her hand, her face scrunched up in disgust as he howls with laughter, and as gross as it is, the familiarity of it brings her a sense of comfort.

At least some things never change.

#nalu #natsu x lucy #fairy tail #fan fiction #mya writes things

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manikas-whims · 3 months

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26/02/2024: Nina and Matthias’s son asks Kaz if he’s a bad person

“Uncle Kaz, are you a bad person?”

They were walking down the bustling streets of Little Ravka.

Unsurprisingly his four year-old nephew, Soren, had acquired the same love for waffles as his mother. From his father, had merely acquired the sparkling blue eyes which he weaponized quite a lot whenever he needed to coax Kaz into doing his bidding.

And so, after ignoring Soren’s adorable pleas and big, blue, sparkling eyes for hours, Kaz had agreed to take him out for a snack. As such, they were heading towards this famous local diner in the area to try some ravkan-styled waffles.

Kaz had expected the child to show his excitement over it. Expected the little one to constantly persuade him into buying delectable sweets on their way. But questions about his morality were the last thing he had imagined. And from a child at that.

“Why do you ask?” He spoke in an even tone.

The child replied without a beat. “Cause a lot of people in Fee-eda say so.”

“I see.”

It’d been years since the Ice Court Heist. Despite never being able to prove it, there was a common tale spread around the Fjerdan folk about a sinister Demjin named Kaz Brekker who had come from the land of Kerch and broke down the formidable walls of the Ice Court using his dark powers. That he had peeled off his gloves inside the court and cast a sinister enchantment with the devious motions of his fingers to corrupt the sacred tree. That he was a mad man who had stolen the Shu child on a whim, and then decided to sell him off to the highest bidding nation for further entertainment.

“Wanna know what I think?” Soren asked, waving his hands in excitement.

Kaz smirked. “I honestly don’t care but you’ll tell me anyway, won’t you?”

The boy giggled. “I will! I will!”

“Well..?” Kaz waited patiently, both gloved hands now resting on his crow head cane.

“I think you’re a good person.”

The words stupefied Kaz more than they should have.

“And what makes you believe so?” He asked. He was expecting some sort of innocent and childlike response such as: because you spoil me with candy, because you show me magic or because you defend me when Papa gets mad.

The boy however, tilted his head, cheeks puffing up as he collected his thoughts and formulated a response.

“Because Aunt Inej likes you.”

Once more Kaz was left stunned. And a little flustered by the child’s words. He could only hope no one else heard it for the mere idea of someone liking Dirtyhands could stir the entire barrel with some spicy rumors. And he would not want to deal with them when his little nephew was around.

Soren’s eyes twinkled as he went on. “Aunt Inej likes me too! And, and..she told me she only likes good people. So that means Uncle Kaz is good too!”

“Alright then, ” Kaz coughed to compose himself and offered a gloved hand for the boy to hold. “Let’s get you those damned waffles.”

Soren bounced with joy at that and accepted the proffered hand as they continued their walk.

» 15/? of Manika's Mini Fics «

Read my previous mini fic with Kaz and Soren HERE

SOC Masterlist

#six of crows #kaz brekker #manika's mini fics #nina zenik #matthias helvar #helnik #helnik child #helnik parents #kanej #inej ghafa #wesper #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #grishaverse #crooked kingdom #soc fanfic #soc fic #post ck #canon divergent au

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bleach-your-panties · 6 months

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New post! Sincember Event❄️❄️

Rating: Dark Smut🍡🍫

“Suzuya-san, how much further do we have to go?” You inquired of your black-haired squad captain.

Juuzou had demanded quite urgently for you to come along with him to deliver Christmas gifts to all of the investigators in your building.

You currently serve as his second-in-command in the newly formed Suzuya Squad and Juuzou holds you in high regards, always keeping you by his side. He even brought you with him to deliver a fresh bouquet to Mr. Shinohara in the infirmary.

“Just try and keep up, Y/N-chan! We have a lot of presents to deliver before we leave for Christmas vacation today!” He looked at you with his red eyes beaming like stop lights.

Humming and skipping ahead of you, he then stopped at yet another office door.

“Knock, knock! Open up, Akira-chan!” You heard him say as said blonde woman opened the door for him.

She smiled at the two of you upon your entrance. Juuzou reached into his bag and handed her a small, neatly wrapped gift. It was about the size of a square coaster and decorated in shimmery red and white paper with a white bow on top.

“Ah, thank you, Juuzou! That is very thoughtful of you.”

He squealed in childish delight as she petted his black head before reaching into the drawer of her desk to pull something out. A candy cane.

“Thank you, very much, Akira-chan! Let’s head out, Y/N!” He gripped your arm and dragged you back out the door.

Inside his bag, Juuzou had a collection of the sugary, curved candy sticks. What could he possibly be planning to do with all of those candy canes?

—-

You were sorry that you ever wondered.

After all of the gifts had been delivered, Juuzou brought you back to his office and locked the door behind him.

Once the shades had been pulled over all the windows, he gave you that cute, innocent smile of his.

“Do you want to play a game, Y/N-chan?”

“W-what, what kind of game?”

A devious smirk covered his lips, followed by a thick, pink tongue flicking out to lick at them.

“A fun one.”

—--

“Suzuya-san…is there a reason for this?” Your shaky voice barely reached the ears of your superior.

The faux-noir was really paying you no mind as his tongue swirled around the tip of yet another candy cane. He had managed to sharpen their ends into sharp points using his tongue alone.

You attempted to free your arms and legs from their bindings, but with Juuzou’s strength and skills you were no match for the intricate trap that he’d encased you in.

With your legs spread-eagle and ankles tied to either side of his small desk, you couldn’t help but feel the burn and stretch of this awkwardly painful position.

All around you, Juuzou had you pinned with his sharpened candy canes. Some dug into the meat of your thighs, some your tits, and others in various places strewn all over your trembling, bleeding body.

“Please, Suzuya-san…let me out of this! I..I can’t take this anymore! Please, just fuck me!” You begged.

“Oh? What’s that, you said you want me to fuck you? That’s what I’m doing right now, Y/N-chan!” He cheered gleefully then rubbed his tongue over your swollen clit, sticky from both his saliva, your cum, and the striped candy that he kept rubbing all along your slickened folds.

“N-no…not like this. With your dick*..”

Juuzou leaned up onto his elbows and spat on your clit before using his entire hand to rub it side to side. His movements were rough, but luckily your arousal had you wet enough that it didn’t hurt too badly.

“You’re such a whiny bitch, Y/N. I seriously doubt that you could take my dick*, so what was the point in you even asking me that, hm?!”

He slapped your pussy hard with his hand then thrust his red-stitched middle finger in your cunt to the hilt. A pained shout tore from your throat as he moved it in hard and fast; his fingers were so long, he might as well have been cervix-checking you.

“Aww, it’s okay, Y/N-chan. You may not be able to handle my dick*, but this should suffice just as well!”

E/c orbs doubled in horror as he pulled one last candy cane from his sack. An extra-large one, green and red-striped with a prominently phallic-shaped tip.

“Merry Christmas!”

*yes, he was castrated which means he has no balls, but he likely still has a dick!

----

ʳᵉᵇˡᵒᵍˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ🫶🏽

#juuzou suzuya x reader #juuzou x reader smut #juuzou smut #juuzou suzuya x reader smut #juuzou suzuya #tokyo ghoul juuzou #tokyo ghoul suzuya #tokyo ghoul smut #sincember #⋰❄︎gotta sin to win❄︎⋱#happyhornydays #💗💗🍡°tg masterlist #💗💗🍡°my fics #byp 🌹holiday event #byp 🌹2023 events #tw: dark content

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buckyslittlegirl · 2 years

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Pls some roommate!Bucky x innocent reader where she is massaging his dick (like she things that he is hurt or smt)

Roommate!bucky x innocent! Reader

Warnings: Bucky takes advantage of reader, masturbation, hand job, naive reader, uhhhh idk if I've missed anything.

Not proofread

A/n: thanks for all the requests! I hope to get through them soon. Also I hope this is what you wanted anon!

Bucky sat on the couch of your shared apartment, cock in his warm palm slowly pumping it. You had left the house 5 minutes ago to run to the supermarket, giving Bucky a solid hour to take care of the raging boner he’s had since the moment he woke up.

Using his thumb the collect the bead of pre cum on his tip, he groaned as he rubbed it over the head of his red cock. He closed his eyes imagining it was you pleasuring him. Distracted by the pleasure he missed the sound of the door squeaking open and your little foot steps tip toeing towards him.

It was the gasp you let out that broke Bucky from his fantasy. Turning his head back to look at you he mentally punched himself, wanting to sink into a dark whole.

After a minute of staring down at him with wide eyes you finally spoke

“W-what are you doing?” You said in a hused tone.

"Doll I uh didn't think you'd be back so soon." sweat was dripping down his forehead from both stress and from his previous actions.

"Sorry, I forgot my wallet" you said eyes locking onto the strange hard thing between his legs, blushing as it twitched under you gaze.

"W-what is that" you questioned

"Oh um this is just something guys have" he paused thinking of what to say next. Before he went to speak a wicked idea cane to mind.

"It gets all big and stiff like this when I'm stressed, I was just taking care of it, I'm sorry you saw that doll.

Finally tearing your wide eyes away from his lap you met his lastfull gaze. Had you not been so naive you would have seen how he was tearing your close off with his eyes, but being the innocent soul you we're it just looked like he was in pain.

"Does it hurt? Maybe we should go to the hospital"

Bucky almost moaned at your concern about his leaking cock.

"Yeah it hurts doll but I've just gotta touch it till this special juice comes out" he slowly moved his hand back down demonstrating how he does it.

"Oh Bucky I don't want you to be in pain" you said kneeling in front of him in an instant

"I wanna help Bucky, show me how I can help" you pleaded.

"Are you sure doll? That would mean so much to me but i don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

"No buck I want to help. Show me how to make you feel better." you looked at the hard pole in front of you grimancing at how red and angry it looked, throbbing an swollen glistening with liquid.

'Oh Bucky must be in so much pain' you sadly thought.

"Alright doll" Bucky grabbed the hand resting on his thigh and lead it to his dick, both gasping as it wrapped around the length, Bucky in pleasure, an you in shock at how it was hot to the touch.

"Alright doll now we go up and dow- ah yes just like that" he moaned when you went straight to work following his instructions. Bucky kept his hand over yours guiding until it got to a pace he liked before letting it go" he felt your hot breath on his cock and how you we're panting in concentration.

"Doll I'm so close, makin me feel so good baby, youre such a good girl"

You squeezed your thighs together at his praise, a foreign tingle forming in your stomach.

"Doll gimme your other hand" you immediately complied still pumping him in your fist as he moved the other hand to cup his balls.

"Alright doll I'm almost there just massage down there and pump a bit faster" you did what he asked causing him to almost yell from the pleasure.

Thinking he was in pain you leaned in and gave his shaft a kiss hoping to reassure him everything will be alright.

At the feel of your delicate lips on his raging cock he lost it, practically screaming as streams of white roped shot out of him and over your beautiful face. You kept pumping working him through it before after what felt like hours his body lay still as he shuddered.

He looked down at you with a softer lustfull gaze watching you wipe your face with your hands, shocked from the explosion.

"Is it all better?" you aske hopefully, eyeing his now limp dick which was looking much more soft and less angry.

"Oh doll, it's more than better"

#dark!bucky barnes x innocent reader #bucky barnes x little!reader #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky x reader #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #innocent reader #naive reader #dark fanfiction

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littencloud9 · 24 days

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prompts. um. let's see., feel free to not do all of them but i couldn't pick just one ship sdfghjkjk

"are you flirting with me?" + souheki

"pay attention to me" + kuniranzai

"kiss me" + chuuran

i Will do them all because i love them and they are forever rattling around my head <3

"...Are you flirting with me?" Dazai asks, and the question is so bizzare that Ranpo takes a moment to realise he's being serious. Ranpo sits up from where he was previously laying on Dazai's lap, tracing random shapes against his shirt, because yes they were flirting, what the fuck, giving Dazai a judgemental look. "...Wow. What gave it away?" "Oh, shut up!" he groans, shoving them lightly. "It's hard to tell with you!" "I literally told you I wanted to bite your—" Ranpo is cut off by Dazai slapping a hand over his mouth. They lick his palm in retaliation, but Dazai somehow braves through it and doesn't budge an inch. When Ranpo looks at him properly, they realise that he's blushing. It's such a surprising image, for Dazai almost never gets flustered. He grins under the hand over his lips, and Dazai gives them a warning look. Ranpo grabs his wrist, pulling his hand off their face. They bring Dazai's fingers to their mouth, tongue darting out to lick at his middle finger, and Dazai shrieks, snatching his hand away. 'You're so weird!" he cries. The blush on his cheeks only darken. Ranpo shrugs. "I think you're into it." "I think you should shut the fuck up!" They snort, crawling towards him while Dazai shuffles away until he cannot anymore, pressed up against the armrest of the couch. Ranpo won't say it out loud, but Dazai looks adorable underneath him, eyes blown wide and cheeks a ruddy red. Leaning down, Ranpo kisses him, enjoying the way he succumbs easily.

the ada girlboyfriends!! real and true

"Pay attention to me!" Ranpo whines. He's already invited himself on Kunikida's desk and has been pestering both him and Dazai for the past ten minutes, poking them with either their finger or their cane. Dazai is taking a nap on his desk, grumbling whenever Ranpo nudges him. "I scheduled you a kiss in forty seven minutes," Kunikida replies, not tearing his eyes away from the screen. What the hell does this client want? "You can wait." Ranpo groans, pouting like a petulant child. They give up, hopping off Kunikida's desk. The moment of relief is short, for Dazai's head shoots up a few seconds later. "Don't," Dazai calls, pointing an accusatory finger behind Kunikida's back. When Kunikida turns around, he's baffled to see Ranpo's hand inches away from Yosano's locker. "Yosano-sensei will kill you if you touch her wine collection," Dazai continues. Kunikida sighs, standing up. Ranpo remains unmoving until he reaches them, grabbing them by their hand and dragging them back to his desk. He supposes he could rearrange his schedule a little bit. He cups Ranpo's cheeks, giving him a brief, fleeting kiss. Then he turns back to his work while Ranpo whines about how it's not enough. "Go kiss Dazai. But do not makeout. This is the office." "No promises!" Ranpo says, throwing himself on Dazai's desk. They do, in fact, start making out, and Kunikida forces them to leave the office so he can focus on his work. They each place a kiss on his cheek on their way out, giggling to themselves, and Kunikida simply sighs.

you 🤝 ela: sending chuuran kiss prompts hjfdhfd. real and true!!

"Kiss me," Chuuya demands. Ranpo raises an eyebrow at their firm voice. "Say please." "Fuck you!" "Fuck me yourself," Ranpo says without missing a beat. Chuuya promptly explodes. Ranpo finds himself pushed up against the wall of the bedroom, blazing brown eyes burning into him. Still, he can't find it in himself to be intimidated. In fact— "I'm flattered. I didn't know you wanted me so bad," Ranpo says with a grin. Chuuya digs their fingers in Ranpo's shoulder blades. "Don't give me that bullshit right now. You know what you're doing." Funnily enough, Ranpo isn't doing anything. Sure, he placed them in this book, and maybe he tormented Chuuya on purpose, and perhaps he loosened the tie he's wearing with intent, but it's not his fault he's so kissable! That's purely Chuuya's problem. "Come on. Has no one ever taught you manners?" Ranpo taunts. "I don't have all day, really. There's a hoard of murderers out there who want to kill us." "Not if I get to you first," Chuuya hisses. They jump at the sound of a gunshot piercing through the air, followed by a theatrical scream and a loud thump of a body. "...Fine. Please." Ranpo will admit, that sent his ego soaring. "If you insist, darling."

#what is WRONG with all of them. this is why kunichuuranzai fixes all my problems btw #thank you for the ask <3 hope u enjoy the sillies!!#bsd #souheki #kuniranzai #chuuran #my writing #grace <3

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kame-writes · 24 days

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Media Overlords drabble - Girls night

Velvette turns up at the Hotel

Charlie rushed to open the door, surprised to hear it being knocked so late in the afternoon. There was a giddy, optimistic part of her hoping that it was someone interested in staying at the hotel. And despite the fact that it hadn't happened yet, she still greeted the person on the other side with a Dazzling smile. “Welcome to the Hazb-”

“Zip it Princess, nobody cares.” The impatient cockney voice instantly gave away who it was, and she didn't sound in a good mood.

The Vees generally didn't come out to the hotel, except Vox who was a naussance on a debatably regular occasions. Valentino was out right banned on pain of something about Alastors shadow, which had been a huge relief to Angel Dust. So Velvette standing with her hand on her hip in the doorway was a very odd sight indeed.

“I'm just here to pick up my number one bitch for the day.” She explained, pushing her way through the door and into the lobby.

“Uh Angel Dust?” Charlie guessed, not sure who Velvette meant. Angel was a good guess, since he was always in fashionable clothes for his shows, which she assumed came from the social media overlord.

“Pffft as if. He wishes he was number one.” With a scoff Velvette brought a hand to her lips and let out an ear piercing whistle, before screaming. “Girls night!”

Immediately, there was the sound of quick, tip tapping sounds as someone ran down the stairs. A red and white blur rushed past Charlie and launched itself into Velvette’s arms.

“Niff, how you been girl?” Velvette grinned, pulling her into a spinning hug, before settling the much smaller sinner on her hip, able to hold her almost like a child since she was so much smaller. “Towers been boring as fuck without you running around causing chaos.”

“I'm in a war with the cockroaches!” Niffty beamed, excited as always to talk about her unusual little hobbies. “You should see my collection, hehe, I put on puppet shows with them!”

“Good for you. Now then, the boys have pissed me off today, so we're going all out. I'm talking spa day, retail therapy, the works. If we don't max out at least one of Vox's cards, we ain't doing enough.”

“Ya know. Al gave her a job here. He ain't gonna like you taking her away like this.” Husk pointed out from the bar.

“Stay outta this pussy cat. If that Deer bastard’s got an issue he can come back to the tower and hash it out with me personally. Hear for himself just what I think of him demoting my girl to a fucking janitor.”

“I like to clean!” Niffty grinned, not seeming to see the same Issue Velvette was.

“So. You're taking Niffty shopping? Is she going to be gone long?” Charlie asked, clearly a bit apprehensive about letting their weird little maid leave by herself with an Overlord.

“I don't think it gives us a good image, if our staff is seen out and about with the Vees.” Vaggie pointed out, making herself known from further back in the foyer, glaring at the young overlord suspiciously.

“Oh please. What kind of Hotel only has, like, two guests anyway. One or two posts on my Sinstagram and your crummy little hotel could be crawling with patrons.” Velvette almost giggled, turning around to hold up her phone for a selfie.

“Aheh. I wouldn't do that if I was you, little lady.” A familiar staticky radio voice spoke out, a second before its owner materialized from the shadows, leaning forward on his cane with slightly narrowed eyes aimed at Velvette’s phone camera. “Unless of course, you wish for the first shop you visit to be buying a replacement.”

“If you break one more of my phones I swear to-”

“Let's, uh, not get into a fight shall we?” Charlie cut in, anticipating this to only get worse if it was allowed to continue.

“This hotel is not in affiliation with the Vees. As I have made very clear on multiple occasions.” Alastor's voice was a casual firmness, being polite instead of argumentative. “It is a place for sinners who honestly want to give redemption a shot. Not some tacky, tourist photo opportunity for your social media scrutiny.”

Alastor straightened up from his forward lean, walking over to put himself between both Charlie and Velvette, slightly to the side so he could address them both equally. “However. If Charlie wishes to allow you some form of promotional material. Perhaps you may ask her to join you on your outing today? Ask some questions, take some photos together. Be seen supporting our darling princess in a few of your posts.”

“I'm not letting Charlie go anywhere with an Overlord. It's bad enough that you're here. And even then I'm only about sixty percent sure you're not a threat to us.”

“Sixty? My, I've gone up in your estimations.” Alastor laughed, backed up by a condescending laugh track. “But very well, I suppose it would be remiss to leave you behind.”

“Hold up. This ain't some kind of playdate.” Velvette snapped, putting Niffty back down on the floor to instead stand with both hands on his hips, hip checked to the side with very obvious attitude. “I'm here for Girls night with-”

“And the last time I checked, both Charlie and her paramour were of the female persuasion.” Alastor said, more firmly this time. “Girls night seems like a wonderful bonding experience for all of you!”

Charlie looked back at Vaggie, who was holding her spear to the side, not looking thrilled at the idea, but not outright rejecting it either, and Niffty was bouncing on the spot with a hug grin stretching wide across her face. “I… guess it wouldn't hurt to get to know eachother. I mean, if your a friend of Al's, and wanted to help out.”

“Ooooo! Girls night got bigger.” Niffty gasped, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Urgh.” Velvette groaned, racking a hand down her face in annoyance. But the fond look she gave at seeing how happy the idea made Niffty softened the blow somewhat. “Fine. I suppose being seen with the princess isn't cramping my style too much.” The resignation in her voice was palpable, and the knowing look she shot Alastor only validated his smug expression.

“Wonderful! Anything Charlie buys, you may take out of my personal account.” Alastor said brightly, stepping aside to allow Charlie to pass. “I look forward to hearing all about it this evening.”

Vaggie reluctantly followed the others out of the hotel, moving besides a bewildered but optimistic Charlie, who already looked like she might break into a full round of twenty questions at the drop of a hat.

“And don't you fret princess. I'm sure the boys and I will have things completely under control here until you get back.”

#hazbin hotel #hellaverse #helluverse #hazbin hotel au #media overlords au #hazbin velvette #velvette #hazbin niffty #niffty #alastor #hazbin au #hazbin alastor #hazbin charlie #charlie morningstar #charlie magne #hazbin vaggie #vaggie #charlie

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imagines-by-cleo · 5 months

Note

Alright I’ll be adding another one to your numerous kaz requests😅can we get one where a female assassin (not Quiet lol) attempts to murder mgsv!Kaz and despite the hate he falls in love with her? I just thought the idea of Kaz having an ex assassin lover might be interesting.

and like everyone is saying…please take your time and don’t rush. Love your blog xoxo

~I'm back~ and omg I can't believe it took me until the new year to finish this. I've been writing this one bit by bit for the last couple months and I liked this prompt so much I'm almost sad to finish it. Thank you friend for thinking of this! Maybe I'll do a part two after I finish the rest of the requests and the few of my own I have in the works that should hopefully be out soon.

CW: SMUT, kinda dubcon, bondage, nipple play, teasing, fingering, orgasm denial, switch!Kaz, rough sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling

You gasped as another bucket full of freezing water was dumped over you, making you shudder and strain against the chains that held your arms above your head. Ready to shout another insult at the overdressed bastard that had been interrogating you until the swish of the sliding door echoed across the room and a stranger stepped in.

His presence held weight and his silence added to that, while you held your breath the only sound was the clanking of his cane on the metal floor slowly coming closer and closer.

"I tried everything, but unless you want me to seriously hurt her she's not gonna budge." The cowboy spoke, sounding just a little too excited as he hinted for permission to really get to work.

"That's not necessary." Kaz replied, sounding just the slightest bit defensive. "Let me talk to her. Alone."

"I don't think that's a good idea..."

"I don't care what you think." Kaz snapped back.

With a shrug the other man walked out of the room and you were left alone with your former target. If he wanted you dead it's likely he would have just killed you already, it was more possible that he wanted answers, secrets that you were in no position to be giving away. There was still a chance that you could save this mission from failure but if you cracked and gave away any information you would be dodging assassins better than yourself for the rest of your life.

He came closer in no hurry at all, clanking of his crutch hitting the metal floor echoed through the silent room like a doom drum. As he stood between you and the only light in the room he made a rather intimidating silhouette, towering over you in complete silence. Though you knew that his calm collected nature was just a ruse to put you in suspense you couldn't help but feel a little defeated as it was working.

"Let's start at the beginning." He said before starting his interrogation. "How did you get in?"

"Wouldn't you like to to know soldier boy?" You quipped, earning the smallest hint of a growl that he made quick work of silencing before he continued.

"Who do you work for?" He asked.

"You have a lot of enemies. Kaz." You teased, staring him down. "Just pick one to blame it on for now, it won't matter in the end."

"This doesn't have to be difficult." He stated, more reasonably than anyone who was almost murdered had a right to sound.

"Oh you haven't even seen difficult yet." You challenged, sounding more like a bratty child than a deadly assassin.

He quickly raised his hand, thinking he was going to hit you you flinched, not expecting to find him only reaching for the top button of your fatigues. It really did catch you off guard when he started to pop open each button slowly, one after the other until your whole front was undone and chest ready to be exposed by the slightest pull of the fabric.

Though the clothes still covered all that they were supposed to, the chilly wet fabric clinging tightly to your skin left little to the imagination. The sunglasses covering his eyes made it hard to tell where Kaz was looking yet you could still feel yourself shrinking under his gaze and fought your restraints with the urge to cover yourself.

Raising his hand to his mouth and biting down on the fingertip of his glove he pulled it off with his teeth then spit it onto the floor. He touched his bare hand to your neck, feeling how your breath was starting to quicken and more so when you knew he noticed, then pressing his thumb lightly over your windpipe he felt it stop. You found yourself wondering, doubting and then fearing again if a one handed man could even strangle you. Something in his firm grasp told you that he was ready to, and threatened, no, promised that he would.

His fingers moved, tracing your collar bone then stopping on the center of your chest, feeling your racing heartbeat for just a moment before slowly pulling one side of your shirt open. The touch of his hand on your skin felt both foreign and warm against your cold skin, even when he started to cup your uncovered breast it was difficult to reject.

"What are you doing?" You asked with an all too telling shake in your voice, receiving no answer from the man touching you.

You wanted to kick him away, spit at him maybe, call him a pervert or something worse, but the way he touched you was so meticulous and not at all a rushed taking of an opportunity. His touch was deliberate yet gentle, and the bitter scowl still stuck on his face told you that this wasn't for his enjoyment.

The cold water had already made your nipples stand out leaving them much easier to touch, he circled one with his thumb lightly toying with it and making you shudder. You did your best not to show a reaction and began to bite your lip in fear of making a noise as he continued to squeeze and massage the soft flesh in his grasp.

Soon his fingers started to wander lower, until they had reached a point that made you assess whether you should reject his touch or open up to it you found your body had already answered for you as your legs parted without any resistance. Truth be told there were certainly more horrible people to be captured by, even when you were looking at his file and saw the messy blonde hair and the mysterious shades you thought it would be a shame to kill him.

His fingers ran slowly up and down your slit, only brushing your clit with every other languid stroke. You could feel yourself getting wetter and eventually hear it too when you started to soak his fingers and make it easier for them to glide over your folds. When you rolled your hips forward to grind against his palm only finding he suddenly pulled his hand away, now you knew what his goal was.

"That's a dirty trick." You huffed, rubbing your thighs together though it was no substitute for his touch.

"Talk." He demanded, returning just one finger to rub little circles around your clit without ever really touching it.

"I can't." You growled in frustration. "They have other assassins ready to kill anyone that cracks."

His fingers moved down to circle your entrance, making you more and more desperate with each stroke. The satisfied look on his face as you got visibly closer to breaking was your only motivation to stay quiet. He leaned in close enough that you could feel his breath on your skin, the ghost of a touch of his lips on your ear seemed to hit every nerve in your body as he whispered.

"Are you sure you're so worried about that?" He asked, challenging the last bit of strength you had left.

One finger pressed in slowly, enough that you could savor the slight stretch which you couldn't tell whether it came from the thickness of the digit or how hard you had been clenching around it. Sliding in as deep as possible before curling, you moaned out loud as the feeling in the core grew more intense and demanded relief.

Kaz leaned in close until his lips where just ghosting over your own, you wanted to lean forward to kiss him but he was just out of reach. Still he lingered, tasting every breath growing deeper and faster while his fingers pumped in time. Just as you were sure you could cum all over his fingers he pulled his hand away.

"No, no, no, please!" You whimpered, trying to get his touch back before your release was lost.

"Tell me." He reiterated much to your frustration.

"It's XOF, okay? They sent me to kill you." You finally broke down and admitted not even caring about the consequences.

"What else do you know about them?" He continued.

"They don't tell me that much, probably in case I got captured, but they have more people they're gonna send if I don't come back."

"In that case we're gonna have to tighten up security around here..." His attention drifted off as he started to mentally plan.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're a damn tease?" You jeered.

That seemed to be the only thing that broke his scowl as he let out a short laugh, he even seemed to stay amused as he turned and walked away. "Well if those assassins are only as skilled as you I guess we have nothing to worry about."

"Hey, where are you going?" You asked though you received no answer

Totally unbothered as he kept walking and not the slightest bit guilty for leaving you so desperately untouched as he entered the code and stepped out the door.

"Kaz, you can't leave me like this." You shouted after him shamelessly bargaining. "It's gotta be against the Geneva convention or something."

As as the door shut behind him and your begging shouts had turned into frustrated curses as you strained against your bonds. The room was left deadly silent making the sound of your pounding heart echo louder through your neglected body and you found yourself wishing that someone would have mercy and dump another bucket of cold water on you.

Ever since that day you had been working exclusively for the diamond dogs under the direct orders of Kazuhira Miller. Doing odd missions and assassinations that Big Boss was too busy to take care of, your most difficult mission so far was convincing everyone that you were no longer a threat, but for the most part you left that up to Kaz. Your loyalty lied only with him and for the worst reason, every day that you worked you counted yourself lucky that that no one else knew the truth or what your goals really were; although every once in a while you would get a knowing glance from that cowboy you met earlier.

Soon enough you had earned enough trust to have the privilege of a room of your own, it was hardly an upgrade from your cold cell but it at least had a proper bed, the only real problem was how empty it felt. The nights there were unbearable alone and you constantly found yourself tossing and turning with an insatiable need burning through your body. Your own touch was hardly enough to satisfy, even when you pretended your fingers were his while tracing all the places he had touched before.

One night you couldn't take it anymore, frustrated with the growing wetness between your thighs you ventured out to go find the relief you had been craving for far too long. Without even bothering to put on more than the t-shirt you slept in and a thin pair of panties you snuck out through the halls avoiding detection much like you would on a real mission.

Security had increased since you first infiltrated the base, but luckily for you not in the places it mattered. The routes patrol took were the same and the direction cameras were pointed never changed either, both faults practically inviting you into Kaz's quarters.

He wasn't a very sound sleeper, just like the first time you saw him he was tossing and turning in a fight with his own dreams before he even woke to notice an intruder. Quietly and carefully you crept onto his bed watching him twitch and mumble for a moment before you crawled over and straddled him, pushing the sweat dampened hair back from his forehead you noticed his breathing start to steady as his eyes fluttered open.

The peace didn't last long however, when he woke up enough to realize there was someone else in the room his expression changed to pure rage. His hand flew to your throat squeezing tight even after he recognized you almost as if you were the nightmare he had been fighting with. Only gently setting a hand on his arm while trying not to give in to your instinct to fight back, eventually his grip relaxed though he didn't let go of your neck.

"Trying to kill me again?" He questioned, baring his teeth.

"No." You answered simply, a blush crept onto you face along with a hint of a nervous smile.

Kaz was about to say something else, most likely a follow up question until he felt the answer in your fingertips creeping along the waistband of his boxers. He was stunned at the boldness of your touch, giving you the opportunity to grab his wrist and pin it to his side.

"You never told me how you got in here." He confidantly remarked, as if he was still in control.

"The same way I got in last time." You answered proudly. "And you didn't even bother to lock the door this time."

Noticing the hint of a smirk on his face you could almost assume that he knew, even as you felt him strain in your grasp but never really fight against it made you think this vulnerability was just an act or more likely a trap. Suspicious as his behavior was you couldn't help but take the opportunity before you, hooking your finger on his boxers waistband and slowly pulling them down.

With a few light strokes you soon felt his cock stiffen up in your grasp then once it was nice and hard you gripped tighter and pumped a little faster. Watching his chest rise and fall as his breathing grew deeper you were hoping to get something like a whimper or maybe you could even get him beg and look as pathetic as you must have when he was teasing you.

The idea swirled in your head as you softened your grip and slowed down until you were only giving him short lazy strokes. Kaz let out a deep frustrated groan, while it wasn't what you were hoping for it was a start. He opened his eyes to see you staring down at him with sadistic intentions then gave you a defiant smile while shaking his head.

Pouting at his reaction you became even more determined to get him to crack, with only your thumb and your forefinger you continued to work his shaft until you could practically hear him grinding his teeth. He had almost wiggled his wrist out of your grasp but you kept a firm hold on him.

After deciding you had enough of teasing him you let go and moved up to hover your hips just above his, though he tried to hide it his twitching and squirming gave him away. Your mouth watered at the sight of Kaz held down panting with his swollen leaking cock out and proud just waiting for you to touch it while the growing ache between your own legs was getting too much to ignore

Too impatient to even take them completely off you simpliy slid your panties to the side before straddling him and lowering down, taking a minute roll your hips and drag his tip across your slit and feel it twitch while you soaked his cock. He let out the most delicious gasp when you slammed down on him and took the entire length with little resistance, for a moment you stayed there just savoring the feeling that was so much better than you had imagined in the long lonely nights.

The small victory wasn't yours to enjoy for very long, you held still long enough to feel him writhe impatiently and try to raise his hips in protest, you kept your resolve and only lifted slowly off of him then lowered back down taking just one inch at a time. Kaz groweld at first, then he sighed, then he whined. It was just like how you were when he left literally hanging in that cold cell, maybe even worse. The idea of that revenge made you dizzy with the promise of relief like you had been wanting, and you found yourself feeling just merciful enough to use him to get it.

Squeezing around him and making him moan without any hint of shame, his wrist went limp in your grasp and he relaxed and allowed you to continue your sweet torture. It did feel like a victory to render him as helpless as he was beneath you, even the idea of it made you wetter than you thought possible and the sight of it made you shudder. In that moment you needed release more than you needed revenge, the bitterness you felt toward him slipped further away every time you sunk down on his cock.

Your hips were moving on their own at that point, it was hard to tell who was getting more pleasure out of it all you knew was that you were getting so close to that sweet relief you had needed since he first touched you. Reminded of that night you had the idea of bringing his hand up to your chest, having him touch you like only he could.

As soon as you released his wrist his hand flew to your thigh grabbing tight and using it as leverage to throw you off onto your back, already stunned at being tossed off like that you never expected him to flip you again before climbing over and using his weight to keep you pinned down with a hand on the back of your neck.

"Fuck! Not again." You groaned, feeling your release slipping away.

His fingers twisted into your hair while he pushed your face into the pillow, the way he held you down made nearly impossible to even shift your weight let alone break free. Although his still hard cock rubbing against you from behind curbed your want to escape.

He laughed as you tried to wiggle yourself out to no avail. "I expect better from my best assassin, I should teach you a lesson."

Fighting his grasp just enough to turn your head for a moment to ask while sliding your panties down and coyly grinding against him. "Would you call this a lesson, or maybe a punishment?"

"A mission, now shut up and take it." He answered bluntly before forcing your head back into the pillow.

The first thrust buried his entire length deeper than it had gone before, without even realizing it you were whimpering helplessly while he pulled out to the tip and repeated the action again. Over and over the cycle continued of him leaving you nearly empty just to plunge in even deeper and quicker.

It was almost too much but you were so afraid of him stopping and not letting you finish that you spread your legs farther and took even more. Your cheeks grew red in pure embarrassment as you lost all control over the noises coming from your mouth, more so when Kaz pulled your head back by the hair and forced you to cry out in the open.

"C'mon, let everyone know who you're loyal to now." He demanded, twisting your hair and earning another scream.

He was so cruel, but honestly that was what you wanted, the violence, the insults, the brutal manhandling, all of it. Ever since that day you were wishing he would just pound you like this, all the while giving you that blood chilling scowl.

That feeling of reaching your peak came creeping up through your body again, and with it a fear that you would be denied release. You arched your back and bucked your hips in rhythm with his trying to take in as much of him as you possibly could while fully expecting him to chastise you for being so desperate.

"Don't... Don't make me beg for it again." You panted out, lifting up and pressing your back to his chest.

He snorted at your request. "You're so lucky I'm bored of teasing you."

Having him so close while you came made the sensation so much more intense, feeling his breathing get deeper while he pounded even harder and pulled your hair even tighter. He tugged your head to the side so he could put his mouth on your neck and practically taste every moan that flowed out, his lips felt scorching on your already burning skin consuming you completely in a wildfire of passion.

Kaz pulled out and turned you over while your legs were still twitching, before he could even push back in you caught a glance through the glaze in your eyes and saw the first spurts of cum dripping out of his cock. He shut his eyes and bared his teeth while he continued to roll his hips forward, letting out long low groan and gripping your thigh tight. The feeling of him twitching inside while he while he filled you up was just too much for your sore overstretched hole, but the lingering need to keep him close kept you from telling him to stop and instead making you wrap your legs around his waist.

Spent, exhausted and finally finished he dropped down, his face only a few inches away from your own. Your breath mixed and your eyes locked in a moment of honest exposure, the bitterness and tension being released finally allowed the two of you to really see each other for a brief moment.

He didn't hold back at all, touching and kissing you wildly wherever he pleased while you were still shivering and giving you all the contact you had been begging for all this time. While you were a little taken aback by his treatment you readily accepted and even returned the affection where you could.

"Do you know how bad I wanted to do this while you were all tied up in there?" He revealed through heavy breaths.

Even his affection was violent. Kisses from a man who forgot any other way to be intimate could nearly drown you in wave after brutal wave, but you wouldn't just survive without returning in kind. Not simply allowing Kaz to take over your body, you savagely took his as well. Becoming nothing more than a tangled mess of tongues and teeth, hands grabbing and pulling desparately whether they landed on hair or skin.

In one of the rare instances when your lips had to part for oxygen you took the opportunity to say. "Kaz. Don't take this the wrong way but, I'm so glad I came to kill you."

"There's no right way for you to take this but, I'm glad you're bad at your job." He replied with a grin.

With the slightest urge to prove him wrong right there you laughed and kissed him again. For the rest of the night it continued like that, with the two of you sharing banter while holding each other close. The end of the agonizingly tense relationship you previously had sparked the begining of something that would be a challenge to explain if anyone on base found out. If they found out.

#kazuhira miller #metal gear solid #mgsv kaz #mgs kaz #kazuhira miller x reader #master miller #mgsv #mgsvtpp #mgs x reader

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eventinelysplayground · 9 months

Text

Something Interesting

Obsidian castle in the afternoon

Gilbert and Roderich are standing in front of an ornate door.

Gilbert: Well this will be entertaining. Roderich make sure the little rabbit is ready for a guest.

Roderich: Understood.

Gilbert watched for a moment as Roderich headed down the hallway then he reached out for the doorknob with an amused smile. Gilbert had barely shut the door before the man on the other side is moving towards him.

??: Where's Emma?!

Gilbert: Not even a hello for your favorite son in law? Such terrible manners.

Akatsuki: You're not my favorite anything. Where is she?

Gilbert: It's a secret.

Akatsuki: I should of killed you when I wanted to years ago! If you've done something to Emma.

Akatsukis hand move to settle on the hilt of his katana. Gilbert stood facing Akatsuki his smile unwavering.

Gilbert: Oh I know you'd try to do it but I told you I wouldn't harm your daughter and I don't lie.

Akatsuki: I'm not her father.

Gilbert: Oh? Then business first. If I'm happy with what you brought me I'll show you something interesting.

Akatsuki: I don't want to see something interesting just Emma.

Gilbert: But I promise you'll like it.

Akatsuki sighed and began unpacking books from the big bag he uses when he travels. Laying them out on the table there are books on history, flora and fauna from severely cold climates and some romances as well. Once those are laid out Akatsuki reaches in and pulls out two more books handing them directly to Gilbert. One is a pop up book of Jade and the other appears to be a collection of fairy tales from Rhodolite.

Akatsuki: Those are the ones you especially wanted. Emma was always reading even as a child but that was one of her favorites back then. That pop up book of Jade more then meets your description of bright and full of flowers.

Gilbert: Yes these will do.

Akatsuki: You've got the books you asked me for now where's my daughter?!

Gilbert: Ehh you're no fun, always so serious.

Akatsuki folded his arms across his chest and glared at Gilbert whose smile finally fell.

Gilbert: Fine. I'm happy with all of these, follow me.

Still holding onto the books Akatsuki gave him Gilbert walked towards the door and opened it. He paused briefly speaking over his shoulder to Akatsuki.

Gilbert: No outsiders have ever seen as deep inside the castle as we're about to go. If you were to say anything to anyone about what you see well...

Gilbert left the room and headed down the corridor, the sounds of Akatsukis hurried footsteps and the clang of GIlberts cane the only sounds breaking the tense silence. After several twists and turns Gilbert came to a pause in front of a delicately carved door.

Akatsuki: Is Emma in there?

Gilbert: I told you if I was happy with what you brought I'd show you something interesting remember?

Akatsukis brows furrowed as he glared at Gilbert. The smile returned to Gilbert's face as he opened the door and called in.

Gilbert: Little rabbit I brought a guest for you.

Gilbert barely had time to finish speaking before Akatsuki was pushing his way past him and into the room.

Emma: Owner!

Akatsuki: Emma! Are you all...

Akatsuki paused his stride with the rest of his words left unspoken

Gilbert: See I promised you'd like it. I have some books that you were looking for little rabbit.

Emma: Thank you so much Gilbert, and you too Owner.

Akatsuki remained where he was as if he was momentarily rooted to the spot. He watched Gilbert cross the spacious room towards Emma who sat in one of two chairs placed between two cradles.

Emma: Owner are you ok?

Gilbert: He's fine just stunned, it's his first time meeting his grandchildren after all. Come and say hello Grandfather, but not too close.

Gilbert's words brought Akatsuki out of his fog and he crossed the room to stand between the feet of the two cradles.

Akatsuki: You're all right now Emma? Did you have any problems at all?

Emma: Yes it's already been three months and I've recovered fully from it. I didn't have any major issues just some minor ones that are normal.

Akatsuki: What type of minor issues?

Emma: I was sick a lot at first and very dizzy nothing else. Walter made sure to take good care of...

Gilbert: Ehh? What about me, didn't I take good care of you little rabbit.

Akatsuki: That doesn't matter, it's your fault she went through it in the first place. The very least you could do was take care of her.

Gilbert: I don't find that fair your daughter's just as insat...

Emma swiftly stood up from her chair placing her hand over Gilbert's mouth.

Emma: Don't say such things to other people it's embarrassing!

Gilbert removed Emma's hand from his mouth and grinned at her. He then brought her fingers back to his mouth bitting the tip of her ring finger followed by a kiss. Just then Akatsuki loudly cleared his throat as if to remind Gilbert he was still there.

Akatsuki: Do I get to meet my grandchildren or not.

Emma beamed at Akatsuki then reached into the cradle to her right while Gilbert placed the books on one of the chairs before moving to the opposite cradle. Emma lifted out a small baby and crossed the short distance between them. The baby was swaddled in a deep crimson blanket. Akatsuki studied the baby within, it looked a lot like Emma with rosy cheeks, chestnut hair and crystal clear ultramarine eyes.

Emma: This is Albert

Gilbert: And this is Lilith

Akatsuki turned his attention to Gilbert. Like her brother she was swaddled in a deep crimson blanket and she looked like Emma too. With the same cheeks and eyes as her brother. However her hair was black as night.

Emma: Do you want to hold him?

Emma started to gently place Albert in Akatsukis outstretched arms.

Gilbert: That's getting too close, I don't like it.

Emma: I'll make it up to you later tonight.

Akatsuki groaned as Albert was placed in his arms then moved to sit in the chair Emma had vacated while trying to pretend he didn't notice Gilbert's mischievous smile. Akatsuki sat in silence for a moment taking Albert in. For being so young he seemed so inquisitive and alert already, staring at Akatsuki as if he was studying him back.

Akatsuki: This wasn't the type of surprise I feared it would be. Also not everything is black in here and they're wearing deep colors.

Gilbert: Your daughter wouldn't let me have everything in black. She said that would be too depressing for babies.Now that that's out of the way though what do you think of my baby rabbits?

Akatsuki: This one is certainly a curious boy, they have such clear eyes. They're absolutely beautiful.

Gilbert: Of course they are, they're mine after all and I have such a handsome face.

Akatsuki: It's because they look more like their mother.

Akatsuki reached down grabbing Albert's tiny hand with his while Emma was desperately trying to suppress a laugh and Gilbert pouted still holding Lilith.

Gilbert: You're father's being mean.

Akatsuki: Only to you, them I'll love and adore just like I do Emma.

#ikemen prince #ikepri #gilbert von obsidian

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babybatscreationsv2 · 5 months

Text

Krampus

Marvel | Starker

It's Christmas and Tony still likes his games. But things are different now. The two are closer. And just maybe Peter is getting a little more in the spirit of things.

Rating: Explicit

Third in the Holiday Horrors series

Forever for and inspired by my muse, H <3

Warnings and tags below

Warnings/tags: con-noncon, scary mask, primal play, fear kink, crying, begging, violent/gory thoughts, knotting, monster fucking, painful sex, spanking/caning, victim blaming

The cold air bit his cheeks. Peter huffed out a breath and watched the cloud drift away. He glanced at May waiting in the driveway and gave her a reassuring smile. Tony never made him wait like this. In fact, where was Jarvis? He wiggled his toes in his boots and wished for the millionth time that he had something warmer for his feet. Then the door opened.

"Finally," Peter huffed. "Where were you?"

Tony leaned out the door and gave May a wave. "I was just making sure everything was ready. I didn't realize how cold it was."

Peter came inside and kicked off his snow damp boots. Tony took his coat from his shoulders as he unzipped.

"You didn't have to get me anything," he said alluding to the little wrapped gift Peter set on the shoe bench.

"Of course I didn't have to." Peter rolled his eyes. He picked the box back up while Tony hung his coat on the hook. He melted when Tony turned and looked at him, eyes dark and hungry.

"You could just let me unwrap you." He moved in, hands going around Peter's waist.

"Let you?" Peter teased. Tony grinned as he leaned in for a kiss. It was surprisingly quick for Tony who usually indulged until Peter's brain melted into submissive sludge and ended up on his knees. Instead, Tony took him by the hand and pulled him into the living room.

They sat on the couch under the twinkling lights of the Stark's oversized Christmas tree. Tony had laid out the table with drinks and snacks. A single present sat under the tree. Tony leaned back against the couch with an arm draped lazily along the back.

"Aren't you gonna open up your present?" he asked.

Excitement rang in his chest and he couldn't help but smile. Peter set Tony's gift down and went to collect his own from the tree. It was surprisingly big. He'd half expected something horny like a pair of handcuffs. Or, he shivered, another creepy mask.

He brought the box back to the couch and set it on his lap. Tony picked up his present. Then they both tore into the paper together. Peter only grew more excited as he realized what he was holding.

"Tony! This is way too much," Peter gasped. He pushed away the rest of the paper to look at the Lego set in his hands. The AT-AT figure was almost seven thousand pieces and he knew it cost a small fortune. He'd never even considered asking May for it.

Tony was quiet. Peter looked away from the box. He blushed as he saw him holding the little ring box Peter had given him. The ring inside was a simple silver band with their names engraved on the inside.

"It's not much, but what do you get the guy who has everything?" Peter laughed.

Tony looked at him. His eyes were soft. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

"I thought it was subtle enough that your friends wouldn't see if you didn't want them too."

"Why wouldn't I want them to see?"

Peter swallowed. It wasn't like Tony was never nice to him, but he was almost uncomfortably sincere.

"Did you like your present?" Tony asked him.

"I did. Thank you!"

"Yeah, I'm pretty great at buying gifts." He smirked.

Peter rolled his eyes. He set the box aside and turned toward his boyfriend. "Maybe I should show you my gratitude." He gave him a sultry look, eyes running down to his lap.

Tony's hand caressed his face. His fingers tugged gently on his hair. "Actually, I thought we could play a game."

"A game?" Peter shivered. That only meant one thing to Tony.

"Yeah," he smirked. He leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss. "Close your eyes and wait right here."

"Okay..." Anxiety boiled in his belly, but he closed his eyes. Peter sat back against the couch as he felt Tony leave. He tried to follow his footsteps with his ears, but he quickly went silent. As if he was stalking him. As if he were stalking prey. Peter shivered. Then he gasped, jolting forward in his seat, as the power went out.

He heard the electric whir of power draining from the room around him. The lights on the Christmas tree were the only thing still running. They must have had some sort of battery backup.

"Tony?" Peter stood up from the couch and looked around. It was so dark. Everything around him was cast in shadow. The light coming from the windows was a soft, wintery blue. Evening had set in while they opened their gifts. Tony always had perfect timing. He wouldn't doubt he made him wait out in the cold on purpose just to make sure it was dark.

At least, he was pretty sure the breaker box was in the garage. That meant if he ran now, he could find somewhere to hide before Tony came back in. If he hadn't snuck in while Peter was processing that is.

So he ran.

He stuck to the carpet as much as he could to muffle his footsteps, then he took the stairs two at a time. At least he was more athletic than he looked. Tony made sure he got a lot of exercise. Peter wasn't sure he knew how to have sex without having a wrestling match first.

He didn't know the upstairs that well, but he was pretty sure Tony's bedroom was not the place to go. So he went the opposite way. He ducked in the second door off the hall and found a guest bedroom. He opened up the closet door, but it was too empty. Instead he tucked himself under the bed.

His heart was loud in his ears. His neck was throbbing as his pulse raged. A guilty twinge bothered his stomach as he realized the throbbing wasn't just in his neck.

It was silent for a long time. Then he heard soft footsteps in the hall and a sound like something being dragged. A door opened, then it was quiet. A few minutes later, the door opened to the room he was hiding in.

"Peter," Tony purred. He shivered as he realized his voice was muffled. Was he wearing the mask? His shadow moved from the doorway to the closet first. Peter couldn't tell what he was dragging, but it was definitely something.

"You've been awfully naughty this year," Tony teased. "Getting off on being scared. Letting boys chase you through the woods and fuck you in public." He came to a stop at the end of the bed. Peter stared at his feet, praying for him not to look down.

"I think you're due for a punishment like all naughty little boys."

He walked away from the bed. Peter almost let out a breath. Then Tony leaned down and looked under the bed.

Peter screamed.

The mask on his face was hairy like an animal. The eyes were blood red. The teeth were big and sharp. On either side of his head were horns like a goat. Peter scrambled out from under the bed, hitting his head in the process. He looked around, but the only place to go was into the en suite.

Tony was right behind him. He was grabbed before he could get his barring. Tony grabbed him by the back of his neck and pushed him forward forcing him down against the counter top. Peter reached for anything he could grab, but there was nothing but the sink.

Tony grabbed his jeans and yanked them down along with his underwear. He kicked at him and Tony grabbed his balls, not painfully but enough that he froze. Once he was still, Tony started to message them between his fingers. Peter moaned, legs spreading apart.

"Don't get too excited," Tony chuckled. "Being a whore is what got you into this mess."

"Let me go," Peter tried. He pushed against the counter.

Tony grabbed him by the hair and pulled his face up to look in the mirror. He shivered at the creepy mask. "You have to be punished first, Petey. Where's your Christmas spirit?"

Tony lifted his arm. Peter barely had time to see the thin stick in his hand before he swung it down. He gasped, pain barely registering before he struck him again. On the second hit he screamed.

"Don't be a baby," Tony mocked. "It could be so much worse."

Despite his teasing, tears formed in his eyes as Tony spanked him. He whimpered with each strike. Peter kicked his feet as it became too much. Tony forced him down with all his weight and kept going until his ass felt raw and he was gasping for breath. Then he let him go.

He realized when his pants caught on his ankles and he fell face first onto the floor. Still he kept moving, crawling away from the creature and his horrible red eyes.

"Where ya going, Pete?" Tony's voice was mocking as he followed him. They both knew he wasn't going to get far. He let him crawl all the way to the bedroom door before he pounced on him. Then Tony flipped him over and showed him what he had in his hand.

The thing he'd been dragging around was a big sack, like one Santa Claus would carry. He forced it over his head and stuffed him inside. That awful sharp toothed grin was the last thing he saw. Peter struggled, but Tony pulled the sack down to his waist and pulled the cord tight until it dug into his skin. He tied it there, trapping him. All he could do was shove uselessly against the fabric. The cord dug into his skin, not painful but tight enough to feel claustrophobic. It didn't loosen as he pushed and pulled. The best he could do was slide it down his waist and crawl further into the sack.

"You'd better calm down, sweetheart. You only have so much air in there and I still haven't finished your punishment."

Peter whimpered. "Please! Let me out!"

Tony finished stripped his lower half bare. Now that he was trapped, he took his time with him. He slapped his already raw ass, making him sob. Then he forced his legs apart. Peter gasped as he touched his cock.

"You might want me to let you out, but this little thing doesn't," Tony teased. Peter moaned as he stroked him slowly. "I think you like being kidnapped and raped by monsters."

"No please," Peter sobbed. He struggled some more and he didn't stop until something pushed against his hole.

Tony chuckled. "Such a fucking slut. Is that all it takes? I'm not even inside you yet."

Peter tried to fight again out of sheer pride, but Tony's cock pushed inside and the pleasure that coursed through him had him paralyzed. He moaned as he filled him up. He laid his head down, drooling into the fabric as Tony slowly, deliciously, pushed all the way in then all the way bad out. Then something touched his ass in a way that startled him.

"Tony?"

"Shh, just take it," he coaxed. Something much wider than Tony's cock was forcing its way inside, but that didn't make any sense because Tony was still inside him.

"Wh- what is- that," Peter choked on his own words as Tony pushed against his hole, stretching him open.

"It's a knot," Tony said. He sounded amused by his cries. "Crazy what you can find on the internet. Wanted to make sure you got the full monster fucking experience."

Finally the widest part was in and the rest followed. Peter moaned, brain completely shut down by sensation. Tony's cock was too deep, the knot was too wide, his tender ass was pressed against the floor, and a firm hand was pinning him down. He hadn't even realized he'd been struggling.

Tony moved his hips and the knot seemed stuck fast as if he might never get it back out. Tony chuckled. "Since you're trapped on my dick, might as well see that pretty face of yours." The cord loosened. Peter lifted himself up so Tony could pull the sack off.

"There are those pretty tears." Peter shivered as Tony stared down at him through the mask. He grabbed both of his wrists and pinned them over his head, leaning forward until their faces were inches apart.

The knot pushed at his hole. Peter whined, more tears coming to eyes. "Please," he sobbed.

Tony moaned, pushing the knot back in. "You're always such a perfect victim."

"It's too big," Peter gasped. Tony moved his hips and the knot pushed against his hole again. It felt way too big to come out. He wasn't sure how he'd gotten the damn thing inside him.

"Poor Petey," Tony teased. "It's not cumming out until you cum on it."

"I can't," he whined. "That mask..."

"You want me to take it off?"

"Please, Tony."

"Give it a kiss."

"What? No!" Peter gasped. Just looking at those bloody teeth made his stomach hurt.

"Kiss it," Tony said more firmly.

"No..."

"Go on. Give Krampus a kiss and I'll let you go."

Peter whined, but he lifted his head up. His whole body shuddered. He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his lips against the rubber mouth. Tony laughed.

"That's my boy." He pulled the mask off his head and fixed his flatted hair. Tony's eyes were glittering. His smile was fiendish. "Now, where were we?"

Tony rolled his hips, fucking him deep, knot pushing at his entrance while the tip of his cock pushed into his guts. Peter moaned, eyes rolling in his head. He was lost in sensation, mouth hanging open, drool on his face, Tony cruel grin staring down at him.

"I'm gonna cum," Peter whined.

"You're such a slut," Tony chuckled. "You love being scared don't you?"

"No..."

"If you don't like it then why are you about to cum on my knot, Pete? You know Krampus eats little liars like you. Maybe I should take a bite."

Peter gasped. He could just imagine the gore of Tony tearing into him with those awful teeth. He shivered down to his toes. Then he came, straining against Tony's grip, hips bucking but the pain of Tony's knot was gone for the moment.

Tony kissed his sweaty forehead. "That's my good little victim," he purred.

Peter almost screamed as Tony forced the knot from his ass. Tears ran down his cheeks. Tony swiped his tongue over his face, licking them away. His eyes were so wild, so excited. It made his skin burn with terror because he knew Tony and he knew that look meant he wasn't getting out of this easily.

He sobbed, whimpering as Tony pushed it back in. He shivered at the sound of Tony's moan. There was one way out of the pain and overstimulation.

"Please, Tony," he begged, eyes wide and wet. "Please, it hurts..." Tony groaned and Peter bit back a smile. "Please stop, please! It's too much. You're hurting me!"

"Fuck," Tony groaned in answer. Peter only cried more as he fucked him faster. When he squeezed around him it made the pain worse but it was worth it as he watched Tony lose control, spurred on by his whimpering, by the way he struggled beneath him as if he might try to crawl away. Then he slammed his hips against him, cumming hard, leaning down to kiss Peter's lips, his jaw, his neck, frantic with pleasure.

He let go of Peter's wrists and Peter wrapped his arms around him. "I liked that game." He kissed Tony's cheek as his weight settled against him. Peter laughed. "I think you did, too."

After a moment of rest, Tony lifted his head and grinned at him. "Maybe we should go another round then."

"No, I'm so sore," Peter pouted.

"Are you trying to tempt me?" Tony nipped the side of his neck.

"No, I'm serious. You really hurt me." He stuck his lip out further to really emphasize his pout.

Tony kissed him. "You really are a perfect little fear slut." Then he laughed. "The knot still has to come out, you know."

Peter whimpered. "You're gonna be the one to call May and tell her I can't make it home tonight. Because I'm not gonna be able to walk tomorrow."

Tony was all smiles. "I fail to see the problem there, sweetheart.”

#marvel #starker #christmas #holiday fic

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fleurmatisse · 5 months

Text

nicholas, nicky, nico

To Vash, Wolfwood was, well, Wolfwood. He knew there was a Nicholas D. to precede it, but it never occurred to him to use the Nicholas part. also on ao3

It all started because of a little old lady (a lady still a handful of decades younger than Vash, but he wasn’t about to bring it up). Vash had been about to step in between her and a trio of men who apparently had nothing better to do than hassle an old woman out of her groceries, but she set them straight with a few well-aimed strikes of her very heavy-looking cane. Also watching the scene, Wolfwood snorted out a laugh as the men hobbled out of whacking distance, so amused that he moved first to help her gather the groceries she’d dropped in favor of fighting back. Vash followed, but they’d already managed to collect everything before he could lend a hand.

“Why, thank you,” she said as she returned a crusty loaf of bread to her bag, an expectant air to the end of her sentence.

“Nicholas,” Wolfwood said, almost bashful.

“Thank you, Nicholas,” the woman said. “It’s nice to meet a decent young man.”

This was aimed half at Wolfwood and half at the men now recovered enough to flee. Vash smiled wide as Wolfwood did not look at him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “You get home safe now.”

The woman grinned and brandished her cane. “I most certainly will.”

As she walked away, Vash leaned into Wolfwood’s space and whispered, gleefully, “Decent.”

Wolfwood shoved him, hard, and then grabbed the back of his coat before he could carry his exaggerated stumbling into the road. “Shut it, Blondie.”

It wasn’t Wolfwood helping a stranger that kept rolling around Vash’s thoughts or the fact that he’d been called decent and seemed flustered for it (though both things delighted him). It was the introduction.

To Vash, Wolfwood was, well, Wolfwood. He knew there was a Nicholas D. to precede it, but it never occurred to him to use the Nicholas part, and now he was curious. He let it stew for a while, even though Wolfwood caught on to his contemplation almost immediately; he eyed Vash with suspicion and then seemed to decide to wait it out, so Vash did, too.

Trudging through a new town in search of something cheap to eat, Vash decides he’s sat on it long enough.

“Should I be calling you Nicholas?” he asks.

Wolfwood’s head whips toward him, his face scrunched in a frown. “What?”

“It’s your name,” Vash says.

“Yes, I know that,” Wolfwood replies, his usual snap lacking its bite, tempered by confusion. “This is what you’ve been keeping me awake thinking about?”

“I wasn’t keeping you awake!” Vash says. “I was just wondering is all.”

“I could smell the smoke coming outta that spiky head,” Wolfwood says. “Worried you were gonna break something.”

“None of this answers my question,” Vash points out.

Wolfwood rolls his eyes. “Because you answer so many of mine.” But he squints at Vash and says, “Do you want to call me Nicholas?”

“Not if you don’t want me to,” Vash says.

Wolfwood frowns again, going quiet as he contemplates the subject. “I think it would be weird,” he decides after they’ve come across a stall selling all kinds of food on a stick and joined the short end-of-the-day line.

Vash hums, fishing out the money they’ve pooled for meals while Wolfwood orders. “Bad weird?”

“Weird,” Wolfwood repeats with a shrug. “You can try it, I guess.”

Wolfwood hands him something covered in fried dough. Vash smiles.

“Thank you, Nicholas,” he says. It feels wrong coming out of his mouth—like, actually, he forgot Wolfwood’s name and is trying the next closest thing; Wolfwood is already shaking his head. “Mm, no, I don’t think so.”

“Definitely not,” Wolfwood agrees.

They eat while they walk back towards the slightly nicer than usual motel they shelled out for for the night; they were feeling indulgent, giving themselves a reprieve after a long stretch of sleeping rough and being chased away from settlements.

“What about Nick?” Vash asks when they’re in their room.

“No one calls me that,” Wolfwood answers, muffled as he pulls on a long sleeve shirt—stolen from Vash’s bag.

“I could be the first,” Vash offers, watching him ruffle his hair into even more of a disarray.

“Or you could not,” Wolfwood replies.

“Nicky!” Vash exclaims as he’s brushing his teeth, mouth full of toothpaste.

“Was I supposed to understand that?” Wolfwood calls from his seat in the window.

Vash spits and leans out the doorway to see his frowning face. “Nicky.”

The frown turns into another scrunch. “No.”

“Nico,” Vash tries when they’ve retired to the beds, which are bigger than the ones they usually squeeze both of themselves into. Wolfwood goes very still, and Vash catches the tail end of something hurt in his eyes. He winces. “Not that one, either, then.”

Wolfwood lets out a breath, nearly a huff, and shakes his head. After a minute, he looks at Vash and says, “Is this some weird roundabout way you’re trying to get me to call you Vash?”

“No,” Vash says. “Although now that I think about it, you could stand to call me dumbass less.”

“You’d have to stop letting it suit you first,” Wolfwood says, smiling as Vash grumbles under his breath, the most childish of comebacks besides sticking out his tongue, which he also does. Wolfwood pulls his eyelids down with his middle fingers and blows a raspberry. Vash refuses to laugh, but Wolfwood grins like he did anyway.

(Later, later, later, Wolfwood finds him sitting in the last vestiges of sunlight. It’s too warm for the blanket around his shoulders, but he can’t bring himself to let go of it yet. Rather than join him on the low stone wall, Wolfwood sits on the ground beside his feet. The smoke from his cigarette drifts into Vash’s face.

“The other kids called me Nico,” he says. Vash fixes his eyes to the top of his head. “The little ones. But Ms. Melanie always called me Nicholas.”

He rests his head against Vash’s knee, the curve of a distant smile just visible before it fades. Vash risks tangling his fingers in the hair that always sticks up at the crown of his head. Wolfwood leans into the touch, stubbing out his cigarette in the dirt.

“A lifetime ago,” he says.)

#vashwood #my fic #vashwood fic

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darkgreenandbloodred · 3 months

Note

Angsy hc >:3

Feuilly can't bring himself to ask for help, whether it be sickness, an injury, or just something that he probably shouldn't be doing alone.

It's not that he doesn't think his friends wouldn't be willing to help him, it's just that after being ignored/brushed off for most of his childhood, the fear of not being listened to is still there, and his default is to not mention he's not doing great rather than confront it head on

This has gotten him into situations before

“Oh, shit.”

Everyone in the café looks up as Feuilly starts to stand. He’s usually pretty quiet so the sudden curse leaving his lips draws attention, even being just above a whisper.

“You good?” Grantaire asks, raising his eyebrows.

“I’m fine.” He smiles, obviously pained.

“I don’t believe you.” R remarks.

“I don’t either.” His close friend, Bahorel, agrees with a squint. “Is something hurting you?”

“Ehm…yes. But it’ll go away on its own soon, I’m sure.” He admits but continues to smile, and Christ, he hopes they all believe him. He doesn’t want to make it a whole big thing. “No need to pay any mind to it.”

He continues to walk across the café and winces with each step. This is the same feeling he’d had this morning before work, but as his feet grew numb throughout the day, it sort of went away. He feels very blessed to only have one job these days, and so he doesn’t think complaining about much is very productive for him or anyone else. The foot was pretty ugly right now, but things heal with time. Everything heals with time, even if it doesn’t get super-extra-special attention, or any at all. Time fixes everything. He just has to keep pushing forward, and not let anyone worry about him.

“You sure, Feuilly?” Enjolras asks from the front of the room.

“Yeah, thanks.” Feuilly nods, and thankfully, things get back on topic.

The next meeting, he can’t hide it when Grantaire drops a bottle on his foot by accident under the table. His eyes water, and he bites the inside of his cheek hard.

“Oh, was it that hard? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” Grantaire says, feeling horrible.

“It’s fine.” Feuilly’s voice comes out in a breathless whisper to reassure him, but the way his body tenses, his face, and his voice all betray his words.

“Did something happen to your foot?” Joly asks him, twirling his cane against the floor as he worries.

Damn that man for being so anxious and observant and a pathologist by nature.

“Ehm, at that protest two weeks ago, a car kind of…ran it over, I guess?” Feuilly says, as if he doesn’t clearly remember yelling after the driver. “It’s been bugging me ever since but I’m pretty sure it’s fine. No need to worry at all.”

“Two weeks is a long time.” Joly’s eyebrows furrow. “If it hurts bad enough to make you cry, then…I want to see it.”

“I’m not crying.” Feuilly answers desperately, rubbing his eyes at the accusation. “I’m fine. Please.”

“You should just let us look, Feuilly.” Combeferre suggest gently. “There’s no harm in it.”

“I don’t need everyone to worry about me, okay? I’m fine! It isn’t a big deal! Nobody needs to worry, I’m fine.”

“Feuilly,” Bahorel starts, “What’s the harm—“

“I said I’m fine!” Feuilly finally snaps, “I don’t need help! I can get through this on my own! I have gone to work for the last two weeks, I have been here, and doing everything else! So obviously it’s nothing! Just…just stop fussing over me, please!”

Everyone is stunned into silence at his outburst, except for Bahorel. “We want to make sure you’re okay. You’re only making people worry over you more by hiding your feelings.”

“I’m fine.” Feuilly says, weak but stubborn.

“Prove it.” Bahorel retorts, crossing his arms. And fuck the man for being just as stubborn as him. Feuilly unlaces his boot, and slowly retracts his foot, taking his sock off. What they all see next earns a collective gasp.

Feuilly’s foot displays extensive bruising, ranging from shades of red and purple to blue and black. The skin is stretched and shiny due to the accumulation of fluid, swollen horribly. Feuilly’s face is almost as pitiful, full of shame and sadness.

“May I?” Combeferre asks gently, and when the man nods hesitantly, he drops down onto one knee. For the next few minutes he examines the foot, asking all kinds of questions, and applying pressure to certain places, and checking mobility.

Feuilly finds Bahorel’s eyes after a few minutes, and notes how sad he looks. Feuilly knows that that’s all his fault for being such a baby about the whole situation.

“You need to go to the hospital, Feuilly.” Combeferre concludes. “You need to go get help. And…and you need to ask for help right away in the future.”

“I..didn’t wanna bother anyone.”

“I can take you.” Bahorel offers, with a sympathetic smile. And Feuilly nods, knowing he is the only one who will make a waiting room bearable. “I can even carry you, if you’d like.”

“Oh, stop.” Feuilly snorts, trying to shake the embarrassment of the whole situation.

#les mis #les miserables #les amis de l'abc #feuilly #bahorel #Enjolras #grantaire #Combeferre #Joly #les amis

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ettawritesnstudies · 7 months

Text

Death's Promise

My entry for @inklings-challenge on Team Tolkien! This story comes from my world of Laoche, which recently got rehauled (yet again) with a new pantheon and more depth to the religious worldbuilding.

In this world the First god is the Artist, who created all of the others to rule over different parts of creation, and the counterpart to the Artist is Death, who isn't an antagonist force but more of a celestial clean up duty. Her role is to be a storykeeper and guardian of souls, then break down the physical remains so the Artist can repurpose the materials. She's often met with dread, sorrow, or fear, but she is fundamentally, kind, and a caretaker of the Artist's creations when their lives are done. In this story, a young gravedigger meets her, and she gives him a promise.

The complete story is under the read more! I'll also be posting it to my blog so it can be found there in case tumblr's search function gives up on me.

Thud. Thud. Thud. The rhythmic falling of hammer on chisel chipped blocks from the stone wall in the crevasse where Martten worked. Dust swirled in the air and made his candles sputter. He stepped back from his work and coughed, assessing the progress. Almost deep enough. The niche needed a few more inches before it would fit Elanor’s body. Maybe a couple more inches after that. She was a large woman, and she ought to be comfortable. It was long enough now—Elanor was also a short woman—and he should finish before the dawn. His arms ached as he picked up the hammer and the chisel which he wrapped in fabric to dampen the clinking noise of his carving.

It had been a busy week. With all the unrest in the city, the devout were bringing down new bodies every day, and they’d run out of empty loculi. He longed for his bed and a shower to wash the dust from his hair, but he needed to finish this work first. He couldn’t sleep in good conscience, knowing Elanor didn’t have a place to rest. The candles kept the place warm, at least. Dozens of them burned around the small alcove, casting a soft glow around the small space. This deep underground, it always stayed cold, even during the day.

It was not day, though you couldn’t tell at this depth, except by the ice deep set in his bones.

He was just about to raise his arm to strike again when a flicker caught in the corner of his eye. A bent figure moved down the corridor, sending long shadows over his work. The newcomer was an old woman, ancient even. She used a cane to support herself and wore a black veil over her black robes. This must have been a superior he hadn’t met yet. He only joined the Siblings since the riots started a month ago, and he hadn’t yet met every follower of the Artist in Dazar. He lowered his tools and gave her a respectful head nod.

“Evening. Do you need something?”

“May I ask whose body will lie there?” She asked. Her raspy voice sounded like a rustle of dead leaves.

“A woman named Elanor Cernall. She was a weaver who died in the most recent attack on the market.”

“What was she like?”

“I didn’t know her myself, but from what I heard, she was a good woman. Pessimistic at times. Slow to forgive or forget if someone wronged her and her kin, but she had a strong sense of duty. Loyal to the Artist and his people. Skilled at her trade, too. The Siblings preparing her body said that she made and donated the cloth for a good number of our habits.”

Martten kept his head bowed as he spoke, but as he finished his story, he turned to the wall again. Night was getting on, and he wanted to sleep a bit, at least. “Did you know her?” he asked as his first stroke fell.

The old woman hums in the affirmative. “I did. She was a good woman indeed.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“A life well lived is never a loss, but another shining craft to add to the collection of the Artist,” the old woman responded sagely. It was a response Martten heard before, but it didn’t seem like a platitude for her. When she said the words, she gave them weight, and the truth of the saying settled over his shoulders like a shroud.

It added meaning to his work. The followers of the Artist didn’t bury their dead in the traditional way. They hid them underground in catacombs so nobody could disturb them, but they didn’t cover the bodies with dirt or cremate them to get rid of the bodies. They let them decompose on their own, laid out on shelves and adorned with spices to mask the smell. The followers of the Artist remembered and visited - their cemetery was a collection of finished works who kept each other company in the dark. It seemed fitting that they should also have nicely finished graves in which to rest, places befitting the masterpieces. He angled his chisel and gave it a few gentle taps to smooth out a piece of jutting stone.

“It is kind of you to learn her story,” the woman said, interrupting his silence.

“I know them all,” Martten said proudly, then lowered his voice again. “Is that odd, that I talk to them sometimes? Isso the fisherman, a cheerful friend. Aikaterina the scholar, a persuasive orator and wise teacher. Eula, the singer, leading the Siblings in worship. Her poor boy Alex helps me sometimes. He doesn’t have anyone else left.” He paused his carving to gesture to each of their niches. “They keep me company. They’re almost like friends.”

The old woman made the symbol of storge to him, the middle three fingers of the hand held over her lips. It put him at ease, knowing he enjoyed her good company as well. “It’s not odd at all,” she reassured him, setting herself onto one of the empty ledges from earlier in the night to sit for a while.

“The other Siblings appreciate the sentiment, but the rest of the city…” Martten trailed off, a wistful feeling overtook him as his mind wandered. “I was telling Monica the other day—that mother in the niche under Isso. I was telling her about this baker girl, Emalee. I pass her stall after work and she always gives me the leftover bread and pastries from the day. She’s sweeter than her treats, but we don’t talk at all. I’m afraid she’d think I’m crazy for confiding in the dead.”

Martten realized what he was saying too late, after the confession already left his mouth. He talked to the shrouds often enough, but here he was almost treating this old woman the same way. It was wrong, but somehow, she didn’t feel like another human presence; her form so slight and so shadowed, just another ghosts.

“Apologies. I’m rambling. Monica was a grandmother of twenty-seven little ones when she passed, and I think she would understand another lovesick boy whinging about his crush while she’s just trying to rest. I don’t mean to trouble you with my cares.”

The old lady laughed, and it sounded to him a little like the cawing of a murder of crows, the sounds overlapping unnaturally as they echoed off the close stone walls of the catacombs. “I’m not troubled. I’m pleased to find a follower who loves the stories as much as I do. The dead like to be remembered; they enjoy the company too. Monica especially. Only two of her twenty-seven grandchildren visit anymore, and even then, not regularly.”

Martten frowned at that news and struck his hammer especially hard in response. A sizeable chunk fell out of the niche, splitting cleanly along the pins that he drove into the stone. He stooped and set it to the side, then returned to his tapping, working methodically left to right so the surface would come out flat and smooth.

“Do you carve all these loculi?” The woman asked.

“All since I joined the Siblings a month ago.”

“Who assigned you this task?”

“No one. It needed to be done, and so I volunteered. I’m a mason, when I’m not with the Siblings, so I have the skills for it. It’s fitting, giving our crafts back to the Artist and all, and the work means more than breaking blocks for the Atilan buildings all day.”

“You must be weary.”

Martten sighs. “Yes.” He won’t complain, though. It’s worthwhile, and no ache in his bones can change the satisfaction that comes with the effort. A few more strokes and the last chunk came out of the niche. He set it aside on the small pile of rubble for one of the other Siblings to collect, then returned his tools to their own cubby. “But as weary as I am, it’s these old bones that deserve the rest.”

The old woman raised herself from the ledge where she was sitting. Her cane caught the light as she moved, and he realized it was made of bone. A large bone, yellowed with its ancient age—maybe the leg of a stegodon. Part of him wondered if the strange woman collected it herself. It had carvings along the length with symbols that he couldn’t read. “These old bones appreciate a moment to rest and chat with such a charitable young man,” she said cheerfully.

“I hope your old bones walk the world a while yet,” he said, and offered her an arm to steady her as they walked out of the catacombs. She placed her hand on his arm, and Martten realized it was strong, but cold as a corpse.

“They will,” she responds, completely confident. She stopped, took her other hand off her cane, and it stayed standing upright on the point, on its own. She pulled back her veil to reveal a grinning skull beneath, then took her cane in hand again. Martten took a sharp breath as she showed her true form, but didn’t pull away, eyes fixed completely into her empty eye sockets, which had a soft flicker of orange glow within, like distant candle flames.

“You will have a good death,” she promised. “It will be peaceful and painless after a long and well lived life. Your loved ones will surround you, including the sweet wife of which you spoke. Your children and grandchildren will outnumber even Monica’s. One of them will carve your niche with as much care as you carved Elanor’s tonight, and they will tell your memories, and they will pass down your example of kindness to their children. It will be sorrowful, but only in equal measure to how much they loved you.”

Martten didn’t realize he was crying until she brushed the tears from his cheek with a cold and bony finger. He found no words of thanks, question, or response, before she returned her veil, and continued their march towards the exit of the Catacombs. As they walked, the weight on his arm grew less and less, and when he emerged into the light of dawn, he was alone.

#etta rambles #the inklings challenge #inklings challenge #team tolkien #story: complete #laoche #the laoche chronicles

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unrequitedloveletter · 1 year

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It Won’t Feel Like a Loss- Kaz Brekker

Okay! This is part two for YOURS, a kaz fic that I wrote and published last week. In order to read this and have it make sense, you need to go back and read the first part.

Fic type- this one is heavy angst

Warnings- mentions of death threats, depictions of threats of violence, guns are mentioned once, and murder is mentioned once.

You didn’t see Kaz until nearly five years after you’d left.

You were at a pet shop in a small Ravkan town, picking up an order for a collar that you’d placed the day prior. Kaz had walked in to grab dog treats, and you didn’t think it was him, at first.

In fairness to you, Ravka was not a country in short stock of white brunettes who stood at six feet tall. His cane, which he held like it was new to him, was the first giveaway.

Though, really, you supposed the cane was new to him. It wasn’t the crows head cane you could recall him having used, but a simple brown one with a handle that had the symbols of several different saints carved into it.

You noticed that it looked familiar, snorting a bit as you registered that you had seen it before. A dozen canes just like it were in the standing basket of a shop run by people who were the type that Kaz would’ve hated. Whether they believed in the saints or not, they were still scam artists, people who conned those gullible enough to believe their false promises.

“You’ve purchased that from a crew of fraudulent people from the Wandering Isle,” you noted as you watched Kaz grab a bag of dog treats. “They run cons, Kaz. Just like Pekka Rollins used to.”

“You’re bluffing,” Kaz responded. “There’s no way you could’ve gotten that information.”

“Working as the communications liaison between Ravka and all other countries of relevance for nearly five years means that I’m in the good graces of every single royal that matters. I asked Zoya for a favor, for a bit of information on the two owners. She gave me everything that her spies could find, Kaz. Several people in the Wandering Isle are still homeless because of those blokes.”

“Ah, communications liaison for a country that drowns in it’s own debt,” Kaz responded. “That’s where you’ve been the past five years. I’ve wondered about your whereabouts since you left under the cover of midnight. Everyone else knew your address, but for some reason, I never learned it. Inej refused to give it to me, and even knocking the idiot Fjerdan onto his ass didn’t do me any good.”

“I should kill you right now for even so much as threatening him,” you cut. “What else did you do to my friends, Kaz? What? Did you melt down Wylans flute into the head of a new cane? Did you kill someone in front of Nina and revel in the fact that she hasn’t had the means to heal them since she was dosed with parem? Did you rip Jespers guns from their holsters and threaten him with his own weapons? Did you revel in the fact that you’d proven Inej wrong as you did one terrible thing after the next, proving yourself to be a cruel man incapable of changing, incapable of even wanting to change for any person who’d ever even mattered to you in the bloody slightest?”

“You shouldn’t’ve left,” Kaz said. Someone at the til called your name, and you collected the collar you’d ordered the previous day while Kaz paid for the dog treats he’d grabbed.

Kaz joined you in your walk back to the townhouse you’d procured the year before, even despite the fact that there was a part of you that wished he would leave well enough alone, go back to whatever heist he’d been planning, whatever he’d needed the dog treats for.

“You tell me that I shouldn’t have left,” you said, breaking the silence that, somehow, remained as comfortable as it was five years before. “Why, Kaz? You were ripping my heart into pieces. Why shouldn’t I have left when I deserve more than what Ketterdam had to offer?”

“You did deserve more,” Kaz agreed. “You did. You do. You shouldn’t’ve left because people miss you. Five bloody years and I still get asked by regulars when you’ll be returning.”

“I had to settle for a crimeless life at some point,” you said. “I deserve a townhouse, Brekker. I deserve a cat that I name something like ‘Mittens’ because the only portions of brown across it’s coat are it’s paws. I deserve to be able to live off of my early retirement and supplementary income that I get due to my early retirement. I deserve to wake up at a time of my choice. I deserve good food. Damn it all, Kaz, I deserve to be able to drink tea while I watch the sunset from my backyard.”

“I miss you, too,” Kaz said. “It’s not just the regulars. The crows and I are in town for a series of heists over the next six months, and then we’ll be gone. Went into that shop to get treats so that I could get the guard dogs at the place we’re raiding tonight to calm down, not alert their owners of our presences. The fact that I found you at all was a coincidence.”

“I lived in apartment close to the the palaces at first,” you said. “It made it a lot more convenient to get to work that way. Zoya was entrusted a townhouse from one of my coworkers that she could do as she pleased with once the coworker moved to Shu Han. Zoya gave it to me, told me that I could retire early if I wanted to. I took the chance, got a cat, started crocheting and bought a piece of farmland where I currently grow wheat and turn it into flour and kvas. The flour and alcohol goes to Ketterdam, lands at a Dregs owned port. I wanted to oversee the shipments getting there at one point, but I realized I was just trying to get back to Ketterdam. I wasn’t ready at that point, but I wanted to see you.”

“Why?”

“I have loved you since we were seventeen years old. I dealt with it for a while, realized that you would never love me back, decided I deserved more, and I left. I spent the first two years after leaving feeling the regret so deep that I was entirely sure it’d gone through my bloodstream and seeped into my bones. It made me want to return to the city but weighed me down so greatly that it kept me from leaving Ravka.”

The two of you walked in silence for the remainder of the way to your place. Kaz grinned slightly as he watched you grab your keys, unlocking your door and opening it for him as you stepped inside.

You dropped your keys in a bowl to the right of the door, took off your coat as Kaz did. You took both of your coats and hung them on separate rungs of the coatrack, grinning as you heard a trill from the living room.

“A cat who you named Mittens because the only the portions of brown across it’s coat are it’s paws,” Kaz whispered. The cat that you’d heard moments before walked into the foyer. Kaz tried his grin, turning his head slightly and feigning indifference when he registered the colors of the cats fur--a dark beige, brown at it’s paws, patches of a lighter beige lingering on it’s ears.

“I have grown to love this life, Kaz Brekker. I will not sacrifice it without reason, without it being a thousand times as good as the one for which I boarded a boat at midnight, felt my heart shattering in two as I watched the view of the harbor fade into nothing.”

Kaz Brekker had loved you since he’d been eighteen years old. You were the one person he’d never wanted to lose, and somehow, he’d lost you. There was a point at which he was sure that it would kill him from the inside out.

“I am not asking you to leave,” Kaz said. “I do want a second chance, but if that is something that you cannot give me at this point time, I completely understand.”

“I loved you and I left,” you whispered, bending down to give Mittens the cat the attention he’d been asking for as he stared at you with his head tilted. “I left. It’s been five years, and I love you still. I really bloody hate that.”

Kaz felt his heart tear itself into pieces as he watched tears cascade down your cheeks like a dam had been removed.

“I want to stop missing you, Y/N. Another minute of it and I’m sure I’ll break down until there is nothing left of me except for the plans for heists I keep in the Slat and my reputation of being prone to ruthlessness. I am afraid that, if I have to lose you again, I will simply go mad. The idea of my life without you in it is one that I can no longer bear to think of.”

You turned to look at him, wishing that you could walk over and press your forehead against his and tell him that he was to be in Ravka for six months. Things were going to be okay.

But, you couldn’t. Such was not the way of things with Kaz Brekker.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you said. “You’re here six months. Let’s make the most of it, and in the end, whether we decide to stay together or go our separate ways, it won’t feel like a loss. It’ll feel like moving on.”

“The deal is the deal, Y/N.”

“The deal is the deal, Kaz.”

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows

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