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shiningwonderland · 5 months

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Camus (All Star) Memorial

Translator: Mimi (twitter: _mimisaurora)

Memorial 11 - Living in Different Worlds

“Have you finished your meal?”

“Yes. I’ve eaten everything today.”

“....How’s your fever?”

“Mild.”

“And chills?”

“Still getting them a little…”

“It’s because you don’t sleep warmly enough despite being sick. I will show you how we sleep in Silk Palace. This method allows you to maintain adequate temperatures and keeps your skin moisturized…”

I grabbed a few bath towels, and Haruka grew a little flustered for some reason.

“I-I really appreciate the sentiment, but I think it’d be better to continue sleeping the way I do now.”

“Then do as you please.”

It’s been two days since Haruka passed out.

She’s still on the road to recovery, but her cheeks have begun to regain some of its blush.

I sat myself in a chair next to the bed and held out a gift bag.

“Shibuya came while you were sleeping. She said this was a care package for you.”

“Ah. Tomo-chan stopped by….”

Haruka happily held the bag in her hands and smiled.

One visit from a friend was enough to make her look so happy.

By the look of it, the contents inside were CDs and sheet music.

“When was she here? I wish you had woken me up."

“I figured as much. But the very stupid look on your face as you soundly slept was enough to make me think twice.”

“Gah. D-Did I really look that pathetic…?”

“Yes. The most pathetic I've ever seen.”

“Eh…”

Haruka held her head in her hands.

…I wish she didn’t take it so seriously.

“In any case, Shibuya would have yelled at me if I tried to wake you up. Recover quickly so you can go and meet with her yourself. She said she'd love to go shopping with you again when you're feeling better.”

“I-I will. I know, I need to get well soon.”

Haruka pulled herself together, laughed, and opened the gift bag. Sure enough, a CD sat on top.

It also looked very old.

“Wow. I’ve been wanting to listen to this one!”

“...Do you have no other interests besides work and housekeeping?”

“Besides work and housekeeping…?”

Haruka tilted her head.

It's honestly not a question worth repeating.

“I have no idea what you do when you're at home alone.”

“Oh, right. Well… Let me give you an example. This past Sunday, I…”

Haruka, in response to my question, began to share about her everyday, but abruptly cut herself off and tilted her head again.

“Um… Why do you ask? You’re not usually one to like to talk so much…”

“You’re asking why…?”

I was stumped for a moment on how to explain myself.

“H-Hmph. I asked on impulse. I truly have no interest in knowing what you do.”

I stood up and reached for the tray on the side table.

The bowl I’d used to serve porridge was empty.

“Hm. It certainly looks like you finished it.”

“Of course. It was very delicious. You’re a great cook.”

“As a servant to the Queen, I am bound to acquire all manner of skills.”

“Actually…”

“What is it?”

“I'm sorry for only ever feeding you ordinary dishes…”

“....”

I place the tray on her head.

Carefully, of course.

“You fool. I would never eat anything that tastes bad.”

“Um…. Alright.”

Haruka looked up at me from under the tray, her eyes a little worried as she asked.

“If I had to pick between it being delicious or terrible, your cooking would be the former.”

“T-Thank you.”

“It was just the choice between the two. Don’t get too excited. If it tasted bad, I'd have stopped you from cooking anymore. ”

“Ah, but… Cecil mentioned he cooked everyday during the master course, and how awful it turned out.”

“That was mentorship. That cat was living alone in a foreign country and couldn't do anything for himself. If he failed to learn then, he would have a difficult time in the future.”

Haruka gave a little laugh as I responded.

“...What?”

“Nothing. I was just thinking of what a good Senpai you are.”

“...It sounds like you're feeling a lot better.”

I smacked her on the head with the tray this time and she panicked like a little animal.

“Hmph. Everything I just told you was a lie.”

I spun the tray in my hands and the edges of my lips curled into a grin.

“I bullied Aijima into doing all the chores. Since I had been given the role of mentor in the Master Course, I had to act like it in front of Saotome once in a while, even if it was a pain.”

“W-What’s the truth…?”

“Hm. You tell me.”

I hold the tray again. It was probably almost time for me to go to work.

Haruka smiled at me as I was about to check my watch.

“The former was the truth.”

“...Your judgments are far too subjective.”

“You think so…?”

“You should learn that some people in this world are not trustworthy. I have to go to work. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will. Thank you.”

I wordlessly turned on my heel and took the stairs down to the living room.

Alexander looked up and I lightly pet his head.

“Are you worried about Haruka? She’s fine now.”

I wondered what kind of impact this would have on her given that she was unconscious the entire night she passed out, but by the looks of it, she should be completely recovered in the coming days.

And when she does…

I still couldn’t bring myself to say that she return to the dormitory.

“...Well, it’s fine.”

There is no need to make someone who is sick dwell on trivial matters.

It can wait until after she’s better.

—After she’s feeling better.

—She's still recovering, so it's just a matter of time until she returns to full health.

—I’m leaving back to my home country anyway, so not yet…

DaRuma's report brought things to a head, and as everything caught up, the days passed by.

There were so many things to do that getting Haruka back home became an afterthought.

The more intel I can get before returning home, the better.

I should be considerate to Agna Palace as long as I continue to ask for Aijima's help.

The issue is my job here in Japan. I cannot just quit the agency as there is a possibility Her Majesty may change her mind and order me to continue my work here.

And the solo song...

It was more convenient for us to continue living together, considering the solo song.

“Camus-senpai, can you guess what today’s dessert is?”

Haruka asked with a smile the day before I was to leave. After my return to Silk Palace was decided, she behaved brightly from beginning to end.

“If you have something you want to hide, you'll have to come up with something to keep the scent out.”

“Ugh… I knew you’d figure it out.”

“It’s chocolate.”

“It is! It’s chocolate fondue! Please feel free to have as much as you like.”

Haruka giggled and turned to head for the kitchen to prepare.

“Wait.”

“Yes?”

“Are you… not going to blame me for leaving such a dangerous perfume bottle out?”

Haruka blinked.

“It was scary when I believed the Queen might take over my body, but… now that you’re by my side, it’s fine.”

Did she really mean what she said?

I genuinely don't know. Does she really not resent being involved in any of this?

As Aijima pointed out, did she not suspect that I had been trying to take advantage of her from the very beginning?

Wasn't it frightening to witness something like magic in the first place?

Reflecting on it, I don't think I've ever understood from the beginning.

How could she stick around after the way I was treating her?

Why is she still with me even after I agreed to cooperate with her debut?

Why is she smiling at me like this?

Haruka…

The answer was right in front of my face, and I dismissed it.

I shouldn't even consider it.

She is perhaps like this to everyone.

Kind, gentle, and unsuspecting.

I once thought of her as like fresh snow…

“Not snow…. Snow is not warm like she is.”

“Camus-senpai?”

“It’s nothing.”

I shake my head and Haruka looks at me curiously before heading to the kitchen.

As I watch her back, I think.

If not snow, then what?

A.... flower.

A white flower which blooms in spring and withers away when the north wind blows.

On the other hand, I am a mere sword.

I work for Her Majesty, who has no freedom.

For her, I am willing to sacrifice myself and others.

Ultimately, I don't know if Haruka is fit to serve as vessel or not.

Now it is no use thinking about it.

Yet, for example, if I had met Haruka unaware of everything prior to learning about Her Majesty and Saotome.

I would have brought her to Her Majesty with a smile on my face.

To become Her Majesty's vessel means to be deprived of their freedom and live in the Silk Palace far away from here.

I knew what it meant, and I obeyed Her Majesty's order to search for one.

In the future, I will continue to use whoever I need to.

The count of several generations ago was once called the White Devil by people of other countries, and I will be the same if my master commands it.

Then, of course, I must not ever be allowed to even be with someone as pure as Haruka.

“But… I will only for now.”

I will return to my country, come back for the song festival, complete the solo song and that will be the end of it all.

Just one song. I want to sing her song.

I want to see her fulfill her dream and find success as a songwriter.

And I know it's only because of these foolish feelings I have for her that I want that.

I thought I had already suppressed these emotions once, but they resurfaced in the wake of the attack.

I will concede to this passion until the solo song is written.

Beyond that, no more.

I stared up at the ceiling and the words slipped from my mouth.

“...The Silk Palace. A paradise of permafrost. A cold but beautiful snowy kingdom shrouded in ice. Under the perfect and absolute queen, many noblemen gather…”

I may be the only person remaining in that country who can truly be called a nobleman right now.

No one else is trying to protect or save the queen.

Not even my family..

Nevertheless, I cannot afford to back down.

And for that, these feelings are unnecessary.

The smell of sweet chocolate wafts from the kitchen.

I hear the sound of Haruka handling a knife.

Until today.

Today is the end.

Starting tomorrow, I will forget about these emotions.

I will put them away, lock the door, and pretend it never happened.

That would be the best thing to do.

This love has been nothing but a sin from the beginning.

#utapri #all star #all star camus #camus utapri #camus memorial

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ladysqueakinpip · 7 months

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Bozo (Bodrum) my beloved: 5, 8, 20

Bozo.... me and you both, neb

5. Does your OC have a signature weapon and/or attack? How long did they train to master it?

LOL this is one thing ive had a hard time deciding for bo over the years. I always imagined him using something old fashioned, like revolver-kind. I'm sure he has a cool god tier attack power too but unfortunately I'm also indecisive on GTs!! right now I'm debating between heir of life/heart or knight of heart.

I wouldn't consider him a master of any fighting technique. Too brutish for him. He's always gotten by on highblood strength/status and threatening glares alone.

8. What was your OC’s most embarrassing moment? Does it still bother them or are they able to shrug it off?

Every day of his life is embarrassing. Alekah makes SURE of this. His biggest cringe fail moment in their story tho is how he spends so much time complaining about Akhett (lowblood) being given responsibilities. Bo thinks everyone should Listen To The Highbloods (Alekah and him), but he really just means alekah. he's gonna ride in her wake of power as long as he can.

After alekah dies the whole group just looks to him to be the New Leader since hes been the most vocal about it. And he Does Not Like the Responsibility! At all. So he's put in the awkward position of having to go back on everything he complained about and step down and let Akhett take over for the Good of Everyone. Pathetic.

20. Has your OC ever done something terrible and lied about it? Did they run away or blame someone else for it? How long did they maintain the lie and did the truth ever come out?

Oh my. Also probably every day of his life. This boy is SUCH a poser I CANNOT emphasize how wet and pathetic he is. Its not as much "did something terrible and lied about not doing it to get out of trouble" in his case, but more "he did not do terrible things but lied and said he did to look more intimidating." He puts the fear of the Lord in the lowbloods with empty threats but they're weenies so they believe him anyway. The lie kept up for a while but Alekah saw right thru him and made sure everyone knew he was a weenie asap. And if they didn't figure it out quick enough from her, after she died his ruse fell apart FAST (see above)

#oc stuff #lets t a l k a b o u t about ocs #UGHHH i love bo SO MUCH. he fascinates me.#-slaps him- i could psychoanalyze this bad boy all day #i know i talk in the discord chat about how he has murdered in the past and thats definitely true. yes.#and the murders definitely are Bad and Terrible things.#but all of his murders were motivated mostly by highblood peer pressure #his character is TRULY about nature vs nurture #he was nurtured by his society to be someone vicious and violent but truly he just wants to vibe.#he could not care less what the lowbloods are doing and if left to his own devices he would sit inside all day #and watch pride and prejudice and read and not talk to anyone for a week #introverted king #as im saying all this im realizing bo was absolutely a prototype for roland LOL. wow. omg.#gothic quiet rich boys

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prismartist · 2 years

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cw for ren being very sick in the background

---

Scott stared at the huge box structure, feeling unsure. Not really about any particular thing, but just in general. Aside from the question whether he should disturb its inhabitants, as they hadn't emerged in hours, he also felt unsure about how to communicate with them at all. There were no doors, no windows, no visible way in, and no place to knock, unless Scott wanted to severely injure his knuckles.

After a moment of contemplation, Scott settled on hoping that his own voice carried beyond the thick cobblestone. "Ren? BigB?" he called out. "Are you there?"

The silence from the base proceeded for a while, before a block broke, and BigB tentatively poked his head through. He had a look of lingering exhaustion, and his smile wavered. "Oh hi Scott!"

"BigB?" The two flinches as Ren's croaky, more-pathetic-than-usual voice called from inside. "Who's there?"

"It's just Scott!" BigB replied.

"Agh, that hobbit. Make sure he does not invade our walls!"

"Yes, Ren, I'll make sure he doesn't invade our walls." BigB turned back, apologetic. "Sorry, he's a bit loopy."

"I don't... mind?"

"So what's up?"

"Well, just wanted to check on you guys. You've been in there for a while, and as good neighbors, me and Cleo thought it would be a good idea to bring some food." Scott produced a leather bag and held it up with an inquiring smile. "Care for some bread and baked potatoes?"

"Oh my god, thank you," gasped BigB, reaching and taking the goods. "This will definitely help, once Ren's, uh... settled."

It was at this point that Scott became acutely aware of some terrible groans coming from inside the base, as well as the smell of what he could only describe as something gone wrong.

"Oh my god, what is happening in there?!" Scott clapped a hand over his nose and mouth, and BigB winced.

"Uhmmmm... well, Ren and I had a little... experiment, you could say, earlier." BigB scratched the back of his neck sheepishly (or goat-ishly, what with his new ears and horns). "It was nice honestly, we both learned a lot, but I think one of us hasn't adapted to the goat lifestyle well."

Scott could almost feel the loading screen pop into his head. "Goat lifestyle?"

"Oh you know, just... goat. Things."

Scott lowered his hand. "BigB. Did you and Ren eat grass."

"Uhm."

"Don't lie to me, BigB."

"Okay yes we did," BigB quickly admitted, cringing. "But we were craving!"

"How much did you have??"

"A lot, dude. A lot. I'm not proud either. But in our defense––" BigB raised both his hands, "––it tasted good."

Scott moved his hand back onto his face in a full facepalm. "I hate adaption," he muttered. "Whatever god thought it would be a good idea for people to mutate in new worlds, I'm going to kill them."

"Yeah, and I don't know why Ren reacted so badly, we've both gained goat features and stuff but he's not taking the grass well."

"Might just be a him thing, to be fair."

"Like the dog thing?"

"Not necessarily, most dogs don't get sick from grass, but some do. That might be overpowering the goat parts."

BigB's eyes widened. "Ohhh, is that it? That makes sense, you're smart."

"Thank you, I am."

"BigB, my tummy's rumbling again, man," Ren once again piped up.

Scott took a step back, to maybe ease some space between him and the aura emanating from the Box of Regret. "Anyways, I think I better go before it gets too dark. And besides, I do not want anything to do with that, no offense."

"Oh of course, I get that, I get that."

"Well––" Scott gave a wave, "––best of luck, I feel like you'll need it. Tell Ren I hope he gets better."

"Yeah, I will." BigB gave another strained smile and waved back. "See you dude, thanks for stopping by."

"See you, BigB."

And BigB hurriedly replaced the block.

---

(sequel to this fun lil snippet because a lotta people were talking about dogs eating grass in the notes... so i made an epilogue based on that lmao)

#double life smp #doublelifesmp #scott smajor #bigb #bigbstatz #rendog #mcyt #dolesmp #prismatic writing

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mirnightghost · 1 year

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"pulls out a gun* I have not been sincere with the audience since 2020 I am not responsible for myself. And believe me, my sincerity is terrible. I have to create pictures. That's all.

but I...oh

Moving abroad? The completion of the Great Plan that I spent almost a year on? Parting with a cat for almost a month? Feelings of uncertainty and fallen terror? Yes. I will draw it. My adrenaline is going through the roof for three days in a row, I don't eat anything and just draw. My voices play with me, make me fight and overcome. I am grateful to them.

I have been receiving information for a month now that I deserved the life and death of the beast. I don't argue with that. And I felt it, and I will feel it for a very long time. Society hates creatures like me because I did not join the general morality. Spit. I only know one thing for sure. I won't give up, because what else can I do but always taste metal in my mouth, get scars, lose my mind...I must continue the eternal battle. Until the last drop of blood.

I haven't been in a fandom for a long time. It's funny, I always say that I was, but it's a lie. This sounds like a very strange/unexpected and funny topic here, and maybe it is. But then again, I just avoid society. Because my thoughts and ideas are delusional(?). I like them, but society always bares its teeth at you. Or not. I don’t know, I haven’t been to places where I can just sincerely share emotions with people about some simple things that we like

If I don't stop writing this I might say too much. Who cares? Hah, funny question. After all, we perfectly understand what they are watching. You won't run away from them.

Why are we so afraid of death? Don't we all experience the feeling of death every day? You can be happy, scared, calm or energetic. You can be loved or hated. You may experience a kaleidascope of emotions but... but the feeling that you are bound to die is there.

[wanted to quote Nietzsche here, but I already sound too pathetic]

I am overwhelmed with emotion, remorse for my ideals and contempt for what drives me. Adrenaline hits me for the third day, I seem to be lost in time and I don’t know what will happen to me in a week...okay, I know for sure that I’ll watch Nimona from Netflix, but what then...

Again anxiety, building sand castles, noises... new place, new people. I've been waiting for this, but that doesn't mean I'm not excited about something new and familiar at the same time.

And this is the end of this post.

#thoughts #dog #blood #fear #a lot of thoughts #ugh #...anyway

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kittlyns · 3 months

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I don't even know what I'm trying to say here but there's a lot going on and I'm on my period so I'm just a fucking wreck right now.

It's so hard. Reaching out to people. Like, actually impossible. It's just not something I'm capable of. So when something goes wrong in my life, I honestly just don't bring it up to anyone around me. And I know I'm supposed to. Like my grandma tells me my mom has been venting to her and I'm like, oh that's right. That's something mothers and daughters should do. But not me, cuz my mom is dealing with enough on her own, so I can't bother her with my petty shit. Okay, my siblings? God no. I'm the eldest, I'm the one who's supposed to keep it together, I can't fucking drag them down in the muck with me just so I have... what, catharsis??? That's fucking doubtful. More like arming them with future ammunition against me so they can bring up how fucking crazy I am. Gonna pass on that one.

Then it's like, well that's what friends are for, right? I should reach out to my best friends and look for support and comfort. I know they'd willingly give it. But that feels weak and pathetic and vulnerable and they've got enough on their plates without babying me, so I'll just fill them in when everything is better. Or maybe not at all. Who knows. But I'm not gonna bother anyone about shit they can't control or understand just so I can feel even worse afterwards.

But they find out anyways. Cuz of course they do. And then my voice shakes and the veneer slips and they see me for what I am. And then they're disappointed that I didn't go to them! And I feel terrible over that!! But how do you even begin to explain it all. How do you explain that they will never be able to understand the complexities of it all? That yeah, it's one situation, but it goes much deeper than even I'm aware, and the only 2 people I can think to talk to were raised too well by people in much better situations that opening up about it all would make me feel like a goddamn charity case!!

Like, oh, sorry, it's not that I don't trust you with my vulnerability, it's more that I trusted someone in the past and they were also going through some shit and I mistook their silence for annoyance and I know better now but that feeling of rejection embedded itself in me and has not let go of me in nearly 10 years. How do I tell someone, "you fundamentally changed the way I interact with people, forever and ever, but I know you didn't mean to and I'm not mad at you-"? You don't. I don't. Oh, you're going back 9 years? Really?? That's a little- Yes, excessive, I know. But wait! We actually have to go back to when I was 4 to truly understand this situation! Matter of fact, let's just say it all started the day I was born to reallyyy make sure we cover the intricacies of it all!

God. How fucking dramatic. How exhausting. Can't you just say "Here's what's going on," and when people say "Oh No! It'll get better soon 🥺" you just smile and say Thank You, I Know like the good robot you are?? Never mind that it's pointless to even have that conversation, because I can fucking lie to myself all day long, that's what I DO babyyyy, I don't need fucking help there. No, if I'm truly going to sit down and talk about how I feel, you need to know EVERYTHING. And there lies the problem. Who even wants to hear all that? Who would care enough, still love you after? And if they did, what does that say about them? Probably nothing, but let me spiral a little farther and I can come up with something, I'm sure.

But going back to 9 years ago, idek why I'm blaming them for me being like this. Honestly, this is who I was always going to end up as. I can't even cry without holding my breath cuz I don't want anyone to hear me. I even do it totally alone. Been doing that little trick since I was 5 or 6, AT LEAST. Of course there's a part of me that craves being able to lean on someone's shoulder and just letting the dam break, but I know it'll never happen. I am physically and mentally incapable of letting anyone see me like that.

All that to say. I am stuck in the same place I've always been. I am incapable of reaching out to people I love for support, and think I am doing them a favor by not doing so. In turn, this alienates me from them even further. I am alone. I don't have to be, but I am. Conclusion... accept the empty platitudes because that's likely all I will ever be able to accept?

God. Again, how devastatingly sad. The connection and support I need and want will forever be out of reach bc I'm behind a wall of my own construction. I'm totally aware of this but I just cannot. change. Whatever.

#ignore. please.#like that goddamn dog in the life I always wanted comic.....#anytime I write an essay's worth of bullshit I always think of that one doctor who told me I didn't need to see anyone for mental health cuz #it seems like I 'cope well'.#just have to laugh. am I still coping well doctor??? am I doing a good job being aware????#what good is awareness if you can't change anything. age old question.#anyways. good night.

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imheretoreadandpostart · 1 year

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Crow T Robot X Sensitive!PastelCore!Fem!Reader angst and comfort

youtube

In all fairness, it's not your fault the Forresters liked to torment you. Though you don't know why. Maybe it's your sense of style? Mayhaps how sensitive your emotions are? Or perhaps they're just mean.

Either way though, Kinga/Clayton (Whoever you like better) said some rather harsh things while explaining which movie you and the gang were to be put through, which in turn lead to where you are now. Curled up in a ball and crying on one of the lower level of The Satellite Of Love.

You managed to calm down a bit after a while before you heard footsteps and the familiar voice of a certain yellow robot calling your name.

You looked down the hallway just as he stumbled into view, his arms bent in a weird raptor-like position. He looked your way and trotted his way next to you.

"Hey.. you alright, cakepop?" He asked with a small amount of worry lacing his tone. He put his clawed hand on your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you.

You look up at him with messed up makeup and puffy eyes, a light cringe creeps onto his visage. It's hard to tell, but it's there.

"Jeez, doll, I didn't know what they said hit you that hard."

"Did you expect anything less of me?"

he didn't know how to respond as you looked back down at the floor as more tears streamed from your eyes.

"Why do I have to be such a crybaby.."

He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his beak into your hair.

"Don't beat yourself up like that. They shouldn't be saying stuff like that to you in the first place. Besides you're not as much as a crybaby as you think you are."

"What makes you say that?"

"I've seen more people more sensitive and pathetic than you, babe. trust me. Besides, None of them were as kind and pretty as you."

A miniscule smile creeps onto your face as Crow holds onto your hands and helps you onto your feet. He brushes your hair out of your face before leading you down the hall towards the kitchen.

"I'm not too keen on this kind of stuff, but I heard that some water will help you calm dow-AAUGH!!"

Crow falls forward onto the floor as he trips over one of Gypsy's coils. you quickly help him back up and keep him standing while he gathers his bearings.

"Are you okay?"

"Yep.. I'm fine, Babe. C'mon lets go."

The two of you continue to the kitchen, Crow has you sit down as he grabs a glass of water for you. After a few minutes of chaotic banter and jokes from Crow he gets up and asks you a question.

"Hey, i need to go... do something really quick, will you be okay on your own or do i need to grab Gypsy real quick?"

"... what are you planning, Crow?"

"Oh nothing, I'm definitely not going to the upper level to throw some insults back at Kinga/Clayton, definitely not."

You couldn't tell if it was sarcasm, a joke, or a terrible lie, but it made you laugh all the same.

"There's no need, I'm sure karma will do its thing sooner or later."

"Alright fine, you do have a good point."

He lets out a light chuckle as he sits himself up on the table and crosses one leg over the other. He leans down and puts the tip of his beak against your forehead.

"Mwah. I can't actually kiss you so this is the next best thing i can think of. Mwah... Nevermind this feels ridiculous."

You snicker as he pulls away, you look into his unsettling eyes before surprising him with a kiss on the beak. Your tender moment with your chaotic robotic boyfriend was interrupted when the two of you were startled by a loud siren and flashing lights.

"TIME FOR THE MOVIE, DAMMIT!"

Before you could get up, Crow picks you up and rushes off towards the theater room. Time for your daily dose of jokes and psychological torture.

#mst3k #Mst3k x reader #crow t robot #Crow t robot x reader #Crow x reader #Youtube #Anomaly fics

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arithecreatorsstuff · 1 year

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Overheard Rejection Line in the Local Tavern, Or That's a Million Koin Insult if I Ever Heard One

Context: I'm a barmaid in a popular tavern near the Palace. We get all kinds in here, royals to rogues. Sometimes, connections happen. But sometimes, rejection stings worse than a bitch slap from Queen Sheeva.

It's late at night, not late enough that we stop serving drinks, but the kitchen is shut down. There's a few people at the bar, including a couple (in his mind, anyway), of upper class types. The man thinks himself some kind of prince, judging by all the gold jewelry and purple silk. Must be Edenian, they're the only people who manage to look like high-class pole dancers just to get drunk. The woman, though... while wealthy, she's also got enough class not to flaunt it. Her clothes are at least covering enough to be decent, well tailored, and good quality. Yeah... the Purple Would-Be Prince isn't going to charm her, she's already shooting daggers at him with her eyes alone. He won't concede defeat, yet. But... she's not amused. A good barmaid would intervene. A sensible barmaid would flag down someone to back her up beforehand. Before I can do even that, the woman has Prince Nothing pinned to the bar, dagger in hand.

"Listen to me, you deluded refugee from a gentleman's brothel. You. Are. Not. My. Type. I've seen more fashion sense in actual exotic dancers, your personality is more repulsive than a decaying, fetid pile of manure left in a swamp, and I would sooner spend an evening as Baraka's entrée than one more moment listening to your self important, insane drivel. If you do not leave me alone, I swear to Frigga I'm going to cut out your vocal chords and your pathetic excuse for manhood, and nail both of them to the front door of the tavern. Now. Get. The. Hells. Away. From. Me. Now!" She lets him loose, and... he leaves. He brushes by me in his hurry to exit. I approach her to see if she's all right.

"Terribly sorry you had to hear that. My mother tried to raise me to be a proper lady, but my father raised me to be a shieldmaid."

"No apology needed, Miss. It was a pleasure to hear a million koin insult like that."

"You don't care for him either." It was a statement, not a question. And 100% spot on. I didn't like him. He seemed... dodgy.

"Not really. Comes here often, pesters every single woman here like he's Argus's gift to the women of Outworld. I think he's a pretentious twat."

"Good girl. You're a good judge of people. Here's a little bonus for your trouble." She slips me a decent sized pouch, clinking of koin. It's heavy, must be an entire year's wages in there. I hide it in my pocket before my greedy boss sees it.

"Thank you, Miss?" I wait for a name.

"Sigyn, just Sigyn. I quite like you, young lady. I'll be back to check in. It can be a rough world for women, best we stick together."

"You're a wise woman, Sigyn. I look forward to seeing you. And thank you for your gift." I pause a moment. "Wait... Sigyn? Wife of Loki, Sigyn? Goddess of Truth Sigyn?"

"Oh dear. Did I make it so obvious?"

"You're the Goddess of Truth. No mortal can lie to you, right? Well, that jerk slunk out of here looking like he got hit hard with the unfiltered truth. Best part of my week right there."

"It's nice to know that wasn't just enjoyable for me. I think I've had enough of that kind of fun for one night. I'll stop in tomorrow for lunch. Until then, let me know if he comes back. He's a menace to all women."

"I will, and thank you again. Not often I hear a million koin insult, let alone get paid for it. Goodnight, Sigyn." The goddess leaves, we close up. Gotta love living here, you meet all kinds.

#mortal kombat #rain

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aselfking123 · 1 year

Text

Wide Awake Blacked Out

Watch all the people around you like they're scrutinizing your every motion; stick your hands in your pockets so no one sees how much you're fidgeting; no one cares anyway, so it doesn't really matter; don't forget to adjust the way you're sitting so no one can see your lower back, and fix that weird lump the zipper of your jacket makes when you lean forward; in fact, nothing really matters; pull on your fingers until you feel better, and if that doesn't work, bite your nails until they bleed; your foot drumming against the floor is vibrating the whole table, the person sitting next to you is annoyed, stop; fix your jacket it's making you look fat; maybe consider wearing something else today, because we wouldn't want anyone to see how you really look; all the people who say you're a good person are lying, they're just being nice; God, I just want to lie here until the pain goes away; stop sleeping, you're wasting time; stop doing that, it's unproductive; leave me alone; your life is a wreck, you really need to get it under control before people start thinking you're a mess; you don't even know who you are, how pathetic; pick at the scab so it never heals; ouch, actually stop that it hurts; but keep doing it anyway; I can't feel it anyway; don't eat too much, people will think you're some kind of pig; be carefully how quietly you chew your food, we wouldn't want people to be disgusted by our presence; stop breathing so hard, it was just a flight of stairs, you sound like a hippo; everything is so hard, please just let me rest; all of your successes are fabricated, the product of a system that rewards mediocrity; but that's not true, I worked hard on; don't accept those compliments, because those people are just lying to be nice, they actually hate you for your success; your friends are all doing well for themselves, but you're not; look at all those people having fun together and feel bad because you're so wholly alone; stop complaining, there're people starving in Africa; ignore the rumbling in your stomach, you don't really need the food anyway; oh my God, you're so annoying, look they're bored out of their mind listening to you ramble; no one wants to hear about your interests or hobbies, you're too boring for that; okay, if you say so; don't ask for that money back, it would be rude; don't tell the barista they made your drink wrong, that would be rude; don't go back to the counter to tell the cook your chicken was raw in the middle, that would be rude, even if you spent ten bucks on inedible chicken; they can all hear your voice shaking, just look at them; I just want to listen to my music; Jesus, your taste in literature is laughable, read something more sophisticated so people won't roll their eyes when you say what you're reading, even if it will bore you to tears; why did you say that, it was so dumb; please, just let me be; they all think so little of you, so you need to do everything in your power to regain their affirmation and praise, because nothing else matters in this world; fine I guess I won't sleep; you're so useless, mooching off the people around you; but I just crocheted a blanket, how could I be usele; what a freeloader, get your life together; what are you going to do? You have no plans; stop I'm going to cry; and that's another thing, so sensitive, learn to take criticism and recognize when someone is trying to help you; why are you so mean to me?; Stop crying, right now; look at yourself in the mirror, look at what a terrible person you are; emotions are irrelevant; but I'm human, i have feeli; you're such a waste of space, no one, not even your closest friends, love you; suck it up; life's hard, then you die, that's what they say; leave me alone I don't want to be around you anymore; oh, you poor, sweet thing, don't you understand? I'm here for the long haul.

#writing #sad thoughts #anxiety #writerblr #creative writing #flash fiction #relatable

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willowedwisteria · 3 years

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⁂~The Beginning of Revenge~⁂

Summary -> You were thought to be an imposter, mocking the god that the whole of Teyvat got on their knees for. However, you were the mentioned god.

Note -> With the amount of Villain! AU content being written, I thought I should rewrite the Villain! AU since it was lost on my old account. I hope this is to your liking!

Mondstadt, a city of freedom, the nation of the wind, the nation with that happy-go-lucky bard for an archon. The cheerful streets, melodies by bards played throughout the day from dawn to the setting night of dusk.

What a farce. What a lie. The wounds on your body reminded you of how horribly they treated you. You couldn't buy food even though you had Mora, you couldn't get a place to stay even with how much you offered to pay them. Terrible.

Liyue? You entertain yourself with the thought of being able to even anything at that wretched place. The cold, empty stares made you shiver more than the freezing temperature in the depths of Dragonspine did. The extreme prices there were unreachable.

You don't even want to think about Inazuma. It took you forever to even find a way to get to Inazuma from Liyue. Your escape, your hope, it shattered as soon you stepped off of that ship. They threw you into the freezing ocean. You had to leave everything you carried with you to drown in the ocean for your own survival.

"How could you mock the holy one when they did so much for us?"

"You impostor. Trying to earn favor from the gods, right?"

"The divine one will strike you back for mocking their grace."

They didn't even bother hearing you out. You apologized, you didn't mean it, you didn't know, you weren't trying to mock this oh so supposed divine one that created the ground under you, the wind that flows through your hair.

This divine one could have at least properly controlled their worshippers.

The stinging sensation in your body became a normal occasion. The pain and loneliness that you felt became a common feeling, a feeling you had become quite accustomed to. For the very least, you prefer the feeling of loneliness over being with other civilians.

"Your grace?"

You looked up to see the Abyss twin, calling you "your grace". You hated hearing that term over and over again, but this time was a little different, this term was directed to you.

"I'm not anyone special, I supposedly mocked "their grace". I didn't mean anything by it though."

Your self-esteem, if you could even care about that in this situation, reached new depths and you didn't consider yourself unique, special, or any of the sorts. You couldn't even remember who you used to be.

"No, you have to be my god, your grace. There's no way I wouldn't recognize you."

In denial? That's new. You figured that going with them is better than being alone, at least, with them, you won't be driven to insanity and do something rash.

The abyss twin reaches their hand out to you as your palms connect, the feeling of their skin against yours comforts you weirdly. Pulling you back up, the abyss twin leads you back to the ruin guard for it to carry the both of you away into the setting sun.

"Your Grace, I'll make sure I never lose faith or mistreat you, unlike those pathetic archons. I hope you'll grow to trust me."

Those words stuck in your mind. There was something in your veins - no, your heart - that told you to trust them. Was it the fact that they're from a different world so they can understand your situation?

That can't be it, logic, common sense, it doesn't apply in a different world. Oh well, you can find out later.

#Wisteriawrites #genshin #genshin impact #self aware genshin

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1800-omi · 3 years

Text

scared.

characters: sakusa x reader

warnings/genre: liberal use of italics, female reader, swearing, angst, fluff

notes: i tried to proof read as much as possible i swear

Saying Sakusa Kiyoomi was good-looking was an understatement. Everything — from his soft skin to the way his perfect black curls fell on his forehead to his deep brown eyes — looked amazing on him. From that description alone one might say Kiyoomi is feminine, but his well built body and strong jaw say otherwise. He was pretty. Perfect balance between masculine and feminine. With that said, you couldn’t understand how Sakusa Kiyoomi had eyes for you when everyone else had eyes for him.

In fact, Kiyoomi not only had the looks, but he had the smarts too. He had perfect grades, had won so many awards, so many certificates. He had been at the top of his class ever since primary school. You weren’t sure whether there was something he has not achieved. He is the golden boy every family wanted, so when your family found out you were dating him you could say they were more than pleased.

Having known him for more than 3 years and having dated him for 2 years, you knew that being Sakusa Kiyoomi’s partner wasn’t easy. To others, you weren’t Y/N, you were Sakusa’s girlfriend. The perfect girlfriend for the perfect boy, always by his side, always supporting him. This was not necessarily a bad thing, but at times you thought whether you’d ever be more than just someone’s girlfriend. Not to mention, were you just an accessory to him too? When with him, you had this terrible desire to be loved, and still there was a horrible fear of being left behind.

Once again, you decide to put all these thoughts and insecurities aside. Letting out a soft sigh, you open the door of the café you were supposed to be meeting your boyfriend. The edge of the door shakes a little bell, causing it to ring, alerting the people in the café that someone has entered. You look around the place, eyes searching for your boyfriend.

The café was decorated beautifully, with big lilac plants planted in vases placed at the corners of the room. Each table had a little vase with a small flower on it, you never were sure whether all of them were real or not. The metal chairs were each coloured differently and looked quite vintage, each of them had a cushion placed on top of it, to make it more comfortable. The pastry and desserts the café offered also smelled wonderful. This place calmed your nerves the moment you stepped in which is why it was your favourite place to spend time in.

Looking around the café, you see Kiyoomi sitting at your usual place, at the corner. You make your way to the table he’s sitting at and sit in front of him.

“Hello, love,” he says the moment you take a seat, “how was your day?”

You take your bag off and put it on the empty chair beside you. “My day was good. I'm quite tired, though.”

“Not getting proper sleep again?” he raised an eyebrow, “you do know that's not healthy, right?”

Another thing Sakusa Kiyoomi likes to do is make sure you’re living as much of a healthy and perfect life as he is. You knew he did this out of love but sometimes you couldn't help but feel as if you couldn't keep up with him and his perfect lifestyle.

“Yes, I know. Don’t worry, I did get sleep, I just didn't get my daily coffee today.” That was a lie. You were up all night studying for your exams. The exams you have not studied nearly enough for because of the responsibilities that came with being the cheerleader’s captain.

“That’s good then.” A waitress walked to the table you were sitting in, placing two coffees and two slices of cake on it, one for each of you. “I ordered for us, I hope you don't mind.” He says and he removes his mask getting ready to sip his coffee.

“Thank you, you always know what I like.” you smile at him before looking down at your slice of cake, grabbing a fork and begging to eat it.

You see Kiyoomi grab his phone and swipe a few times all before opening his mouth and saying. “The exam results are out.”

With that, you feel your stomach turn and you get hit by a sudden wave of anxiety. You are not sure whether or not you want to check your results right now. You know you did not do well, but you can't just stand there staring at your cake either. You slowly pick up your phone, hands slightly shaking. Kiyoomi doesn't notice this, actually, he does not know this side of you at all.

He sees you swipe a couple of times, all before freezing and gulping. You’re praying he doesn't ask about your grade, so you try to ask him questions instead. “So, what did you get?” you put your phone down and put both your hands on your lap, playing with your fingers under the table.

“Maximum points, as usual,” he answers, making your stomach feel even sicker.

“That’s amazing! Congratulation—”

“What about you?” he interrupts you, his dark brown eyes staring into yours.

“I did, um, I did alright!” you stutter, forcing a smile at him. You were proud of your grade, but you knew he would not feel the same. It wasn't even his opinion on his grade that mattered to you, it was the fact he did better than you. You used all the free time you had for studying, you truly gave it your all, and yet here you are, second, again.

“Let me check.” before you could protest, he grabs your phone.

“No, Kiyoomi, ” by the time the words left your mouth he’s already swiped a couple times.

He opens his mouth and lets out a soft sigh, a soft sigh that almost went unnoticed by you. “You know, I’m gonna need to tutor you more often.”

Here he goes, once again, making your heart ache. Making you feel so small, so useless, so ashamed. He does not know that you were expecting way worse. He does not know that if you didn't have him, you would be way happier with your results. To him, your efforts are small, so, so small. This feeling has been going on for years now, you can’t remember whether there was ever a time where you didn't feel like the second-best beside him. He made you feel so pathetic, it made you angry and unbearably sad.

“Actually, no, I don't think I need your tutoring. I did quite well.”

“I know you did, but you could’ve done better.”

“Oh? Well, I didn’t and I’m proud of my results.” You raised your voice slightly. Your tone made it seem like you were trying to prove something wrong even though there was nothing to prove him wrong.

He could sense you were mad at him and he didn’t even know why, which made him angry too. “What’s with the attitude? It’s not my fault you didn’t study. You literally had weeks to do it.”

That did it. You were at the edge of breaking. “You know what? You’re right, it’s not your fault. I was the one wasting time coming to all your games and getting your cheerleading squad ready. I was the one wasting time supporting you and your dumb fucking team.” At the end of the sentence, your voice broke and your vision was getting blurry by your tears. By now, everyone else in the café was staring at the argument go down. “Next time, I won’t even fucking bother.” You grabbed your bag and rushed out the door, trying to sob as quietly as possible.

His eyes had widened at your response. He put his head on his hands and whispered, “Fuck, I messed up.”

It had been two weeks since you last talked to Kiyoomi and there was not a day that passed in which you had not thought of your fight with him. Whenever you thought about what went down you felt sick. Yet here you are, sitting on your desk, homework waiting to be finished in front of you while you think about it again. All Kiyoomi was trying to do was help you, how could you be so selfish? How could you let your jealousy take over? Your failures are not his fault. You should’ve just studied, but you’re so fucking useless you can't even do that properly. Regret and anxiety had consumed you. Seeing him in the hallways of the school didn't help. You weren't sure what was going on with your relationship anymore, is he breaking up with you? Once again you were dragged away from these thoughts by the sound of knocking on your bedroom door. You shake your head, trying to make yourself sound as normal as possible before talking, “Come in!” you say, looking back at the homework in front of you.

“Hey, ” You’re shocked to hear a voice that didn't belong to any of your family members. You turn around to see Kiyoomi. “Your mom told me to come up, sorry if I'm interrupting.”

“No, it's alright.” you stay quiet, not sure whether you're gonna continue this conversation normally or not. Should you apologise? Should he be the one to apologise?

“I’m sorry,” Kiyoomi speaks up and continues before you can reply. “Can I sit down?” You nod and get up from your desk as he sits down on your bed. You sit down next to him and speak.

“ 'm sorry as well.”

“No, you don't have anything to apologise for. I shouldn't have said what I said.”

“No, you don't understand, it's my fault. I, ” you start tearing up, “I was so selfish and I was jealous and, and–”

“Jealous? Of what?”

“Of everything! I mean, you’re so perfect and you achieve everything you want to and I’m just so terrified of being left behind. I'm so terrified of always being second.”

“Love,” he pulled you into his arms, making you start sobbing.

“And I’m sorry I’ve been so selfish. I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better girlfriend, I’m so sorry.” You manage to get out through the sobs. “It’s just that these thoughts have been hurting me so, so much. I don’t think I can take it.”

He kept hugging you as he answered. “Love, I couldn’t have asked for a better girlfriend. You’re always so supportive and I know you always try your best.” He placed a kiss on your forehead, “I’m sorry for making you feel this way. Please know that to me, you’ll always be the first. I love you.” You hadn't expected Kiyoomi to say anything, he had always been the type to just let his presence comfort you. The fact he’s trying to reach out to you with his words made you realise how much you meant to him.

“I love you too.” you wipe your tears. “Thank you, Omi.”

Instead of replying, he kisses you. You missed his soft lips on yours, you missed the feeling of having him so close to you. You missed feeling so loved, feeling so important to someone and at the same time having someone who’s just as important to you. You missed him.

reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x self insert #haikyuu x yn #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fanfiction #sakusa x self insert #sakusa oneshot #haikyuu sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #sakusa x y/n #hq sakusa #sakusa scenarios #sakusa fic #sakusa x you #haikyuu x imagines #haikyuu x y/n #s.rb🎈

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allegra-writes · 4 years

Text

“The Devil all the time”

Hunter!Tom x Demon!Reader

Supernatural AU

NSFW

Warnings: Smut

"Break the silence, damn the dark

Damn the light..."

The Chain - Fleetwood Mac

Forget everything you thought you knew, you had every reason to be afraid of the dark when you were a kid. In this world where monsters are real, the Holland brothers hunt them so normal people can continue to live in the bliss of ignorance.

But when something goes terribly wrong, Tom will do anything to save his brother's life, including selling his soul to the devil. Well... Not exactly the devil, but close enough.

You don't need to watch Supernatural to read this AU

MY MASTERLIST

He knew it was you, even before turning. He knew it as soon as he heard your deceptively delicate footsteps break the supernatural silence that had fallen over the forest the moment he had buried the little metal box in the old crossroad. Tom didn't want to think about what it meant, having such an intimate knowledge of you to be able to recognize you by the cadence of your steps, being so in sync with you that he could tell whenever you were in the vicinity.

So he used his favorite deflection technique whenever it came to you.

"Y/n? What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this? Sorry, did I say nice girl? I meant evil skank"

The insult didn't phase you. None ever did. It was hard to take them seriously when you knew how many nights he fell asleep with your name on his lips, after pathetically releasing himself into his own hand, or fucking his boring girl-next-door girlfriend, chasing orgasm over unsatisfactory orgasm that would never completely satiate him. Because it wasn't your face the one contorted in pleasure looking up at him from the mattress.

"You called. I came" You batted your lashes, sweetly. "I always come when you call…"

He gulped, the innuendo not lost to his ears. It threw him off guard, like it always did.

"I would have thought this would be… beneath you" Tom cleared his throat, looking away, trying to regain his footing, "collecting a deal, like a vulgar crossroad demon"

There was nothing vulgar about the soul of a Holland. But he didn't need to know that, so you just shrugged,

"Queen Rowena has an interest in you boys. She finds you entertaining. I'm just being a good subdit"

He scoffed,

"Funny. I would have never peg you for a sub"

You took a step closer to him.

"You don't have what it takes to make me submit, Holland" Your hot breath fanned over his skin, setting his skin on fire. Making his blood boil. You had a way of doing that, of bringing out the worst in him. Of making him lose control. And you thoroughly enjoyed it, poking at the bear until the claws came out, laughing at the carnage.

Another step, and you could physically feel it: The hate, radiating from his every pore, his mind screaming with it. He hated you. He hated your kind. He hated your beauty. He hated the pretty white dress you were wearing, so pure and innocent, glowing like a beacon in the dark. A lure, guiding uncountable men before him into perdition.

But above all else, he hated that, even then, he couldn't help but to want you. Fervently. Desperately. Irreversibly.

"I came here to make a deal" He croaked, cursing himself internally for showing weakness.

"Let's negotiate, then," you replied, stepping away, mercifully letting him breath.

"My brother-"

"I know" You interrupted, sounding bored already, "Reapers everywhere are going berserk. Who, oh who, will get to reap the soul of a Holland?"

The wind picked up, making your long dress billow around your legs. You twirled a little, admiring the way it moved. Tom's eyes were glued to you, almost hypnotized. Partly because you were too dangerous to be left unsupervised even for a second, partly because you looked beautiful like that. It had never been more obvious to him that you were an unearthly creature, you didn't belong to this world. There, surrounded by greenery, barefoot, swaying softly under the twilight light, he wondered how could anybody ever mistake you for a human.

"Of course" your apathetic voice took him out of his revery, "being reapers, watching them go wild is rather boring. I swear they are the most uninteresting beings of all creation"

That made him see red.

"Boring? Boring?!" He knew his voice was rising with every word but he just couldn't help it, "They're waiting for my little brother to die!!"

"Which could happen any minute now," You reminded him, all playfulness gone from your demeanor, "so if you wanna strike a deal, I suggest you start making me an offer worth my time"

He was taken aback by that.

"I- My soul in exchange of a wish, and you collect it in ten years" He tried and failed not to think about what that implied: vicious, invisible hounds of hell tearing apart his body and dragging his soul to hell, "Isn't that the usual deal?"

You scoffed,

"After all the things you did in your life, what makes you think your soul doesn't belong in hell already? And if your brother dies, that is one less Holland on earth to worry about. You and your brothers have managed to become a big pain in the ass for us…"

He pulled out a knife, a strange one, with runes in the blade. You arched a brow in recognition

"The Winchesters' knife. Are you threatening me, little hunter?"

Your lack of reaction was another blow. He had hoped you'd be more impressed than that. Nonetheless he turned it in his hands, offering you the handle.

"I'm throwing it into the deal"

To his surprise, you didn't immediately take it from his hands, choosing instead to pace the clearing, deep in thought.

The truth was you couldn't care less about the knife, it wasn't more dangerous to you than a toothpick. And while it was true it could certainly damage your queen, she had a far better weapon to protect herself: You.

But it did confirm your suspicions about the Hollands having access to the old Winchester arsenal, which meant they had access to something way more dangerous than that rustic weapon made of steel and bone. A book, made of ancient dark magic and human skin, written in blood. A book that was precious to queen Rowena and by extension to you: the Book of the Damned.

The Hollands were a family of extremely talented, yes, but old fashioned hunters. The stab first, ask questions later kind. They probably had no idea what they had in their hands… but you did.

"Very well then," you finally declared, "this is my offer: Your soul and that knife in exchange for sweet Harry's life and one year for you to get all your businesses in order"

Tom felt all the blood drain from his face. One year. Just 365 more days to live, before an eternity of torture in hell.

"O-one year?" He breathed.

"One year" You confirmed, "More than enough time to go see the Grand Canyon, eat the world's spiciest burger or whatever you have on your bucket list"

The disdain in your words only made him hate you harder.

"Not nearly enough to live" He replied through clenched teeth. You rolled your eyes,

"You're a hunter. You lead short, violent existences, charging head first towards what most humans run away from. Things faster, stronger, more powerful than you, surviving each encounter out of sheer luck. Killing one monster after another, until that luck runs out. Because the monsters? Unlike you who rely on it everyday, they just need. One. Single. Lucky. Strike." You punctuated every word with one step in his direction, until you were face to face again. Until, for the first time ever, you could see the fear, the desperating hopelessness he kept hidden inside, reflected on the warm coffee of his eyes. You knew a lesser man would be already crying and begging for Mercy.

Tom wasn't like other men though, that was the whole point.

"Or…" You soften your tone and your stance, letting your fingers ghost over the back of his hand, his whole skin erupting in goosebumps. That was the very first time you touched him. Ever.

And it was as if nobody had ever touched him before, the light caress enough to set every nerve ending, every single one of his cells, alight.

He was so distracted by the sensation and his body's response to it, he almost didn't hear your next words over the sound of his own pounding heart.

"Or you could keep your little pocket knife, and even have your ten years if…"

"If?" He struggled to focus.

"You let me borrow a book"

His brows furrowed in confusion,

"A book? What book?"

"Any book of my liking, for as long as I want" You shrugged it off, "Do we have a deal?"

There was a catch there, it was obvious. He knew he was going to regret it but, what choice did he have?

"Deal"

Your smile was blinding, luminous. If he didn't know any better, he would have called it angelical. Now, that was one ridiculous thought.

"What now? We seal it with a kiss?" His eyes fell to your lips, so soft looking and inviting. He wasn't eager to put his mouth on a filthy demon and doom himself. He wasn't.

You chuckled, but there was no humor behind it.

"Oh no, darling. This is big. This is special" You're special, "A simple kiss just won't cut it…"

No. You couldn't mean… could you? Was there no limits to your hatred for him? Did you really want him so defeated, so humiliated?

"What do you want?" He spat through gritted teeth.

"The same thing you want" You put your hands on his chest, rising to your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, "The same thing you have wanted ever since we first met . The thing that's obsessing you..."

"I don't know what you're talking about"

You smirked,

"You can lie to your family, you can even lie to yourself, little hunter... But you can't lie to me."

He couldn't hide, you could see every fantasy, hear every single one of his thoughts of you on repeat, like a prayer in your direction. Just like he couldn't hide the way his skin was burning now for you, the way his blood rushed south, the way all logical thought left his brain, his iron grip on his emotions finally breaking as he snapped.

Lightning fast, in just a blink, he twirled you around, your back hitting the rough bark of a tree, as he towered over you, demon blade to your throat, every inch of his body pressed against yours. His eyes were ablazed with rage, and passion, as he surged forward, striking you with his best hit.

He kissed you.

Lips vicious against yours, teeth biting and scraping only to soothe the offense seconds later with his tongue, until he was dizzy, light headed with the lack of oxygen and the taste of you. The hand not holding the knife to your neck fell to your breast, squeezing the pliant flesh with enough force to cause pain on a human woman, merely making you moan. He swallowed the sound, letting his fingers trace your waist, your hips, clawing at your dress until he finally, finally, felt skin under his fingertips.

It was better than anything his mind had conjured in his feverish fantasies in the dead of the night. The skin of your inner thighs velvety soft, as they parted under his touch, the sweetest sounds leaving your lips as his fingers found your naked core. You weren't wearing any underwear, probably never had. The realization that, in all your past encounters and fights you had been standing there, just feet away from him with nothing under that damn dress hit him like a truck, making his head swim.

He searched between your folds, and suddenly his fingers were inside you. He was inside you, a part of him was buried deep within you, within your silky heat, claiming you as his, if only for the night.

And you were so wet for him, and only getting wetter as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, scissoring them, opening you up until he was able to slip a third one in, fucking you with his hand in earnest. You were sobbing, clutching at his biceps, head thrown back in pleasure. He took advantage of that to suck bruises on your neck, only to see them fade before his eyes. Your skin tasted clean, smelled like wild flowers and rain. Ozone. Lightning. Like those coursing through his veins with every cry, every delicious gasp you made.

He found the perfect spot inside you, the one that sent sparks through your nerves with every stroke of his calloused fingers.

"This what you wanted?" To make him lose it? Lose his mind, himself, in you? "For me to make you come on just my fingers, like the little slut you are?"

The floor disappeared from under his feet as you sent him flying away from you, a searing pain exploding at the back of his head as he landed, sprawled at the feet of an old, dying oak. With blurry eyes, he saw you stalk towards him, all power and cold, controlled fury.

"Let's get one thing straight, Holland. I'm not one of your sluts" You sneered, "and I'm definitely not your basic bitch of a girlfriend. So you better start showing me a little respect, are we clear?"

He gulped, sitting up. He had to be seriously fucked up in the head, for his cock to be twitching inside his pants at your threatening tone.

"Crystal"

"Good" You declared, coming to a stop right in front of him, standing between his parted legs, "Now, let's put that mouth of yours to a better use"

He knew that image was going to be forever tattooed on his brain: You standing in front of him, holding the skirt of your dress up, waiting for him to put his mouth on you. Tom took a moment to admire you, before delving in, flattening his tongue over your slit, before drawing tight, precise circles on your clit with the tip. God, you tasted so divine it was messing with his head; something as dark and corrupted and twisted as you, feeling so exquisite, so perfect, so heavenly to his every sense.

He helped you hook your knee over his shoulder, his other arm snaking around your leg, pulling you even closer. You could feel his smirk against your cunt the moment he realized your legs were shaking, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care, not with his wicked talented mouth devouring you like a last meal, rocking your whole world, making you see stars behind your closed eyelids.

You always knew that man would make the stars fall.

Tom kept on, penetrating you with his tongue as far as it would go, his whole face moving against you. The slight burn of his scruff felt delicious against your delicate labia, as he used his fingers to open you up like a flower, separating your petals to get to the delectable nectar inside. You were close, he could feel it, the obscene sounds you were making, the waves of sweetness falling on his lips feeding his ego, filling him up with pride. By the time the night was over, you'd be unable to forget him. He would make sure of that. He would make you come, over and over, until the only thoughts left in your brain were of him, the only word your lips knew how to speak was his name. He would mark you, like a bloodstain, like you had done to him.

Almost there, he almost had you. Your muscles were locking, your walls starting to tremble, when a loud crack resonated over his head, and you stepped away on unstable legs, breathing hard. You didn't even need to breathe, it was just his effect on you. He made you feel human. And it was both exhilarating, and terrifying.

You took another step back, but he took hold of your ankle, tugging hard enough to make you fall on his lap, white skirt covering the place where his hands were fumbling with his zip, with his boxers, aligning himself with your entrance.

"Fuck!" He cursed, as you sank on his rock hard cock, not giving him any time to get used to the feeling of you around him, before starting to move.

"How does it feel" You taunted, "fucking a monster? Is it as good as you dreamed of?"

Better. You felt even better. Tom hadn't thought it was possible, but he loathed you even more for it.

"Shut up" He growled.

You leaned forwards, breath hot against his ear,

"Cause you feel amazing, Tom. Your cock feels like heaven"

His hand tangled in your hair, keeping you in place as he crashed his mouth to yours again, the other fumbling for the buttons at the back of your dress, tugging and pulling, tearing at the fabric, in his haste to feel more. More of your skin against his, more of the body that had been his hyper fixation for far too long.

You sat up, still grinding on his cock, letting the tattered dress fall to your waist, watching in satisfaction as his eyes went wide, zeroing on the way your breasts bounced in sync with your hips.

Reaching up, for a glorious second Tom could feel one perfect pebbled nipple against his palm, the roundness, the weight of your soft flesh on his fingers; before an invisible force pinned his hands to his sides.

You tsked.

"Still don't get it, do you little hunter? This?" You let yourself fall all the way down his thick cock, hard, tearing twin moans from his mouth and yours, "This isn't about you. This is about me."

Leaning back, you braced yourself on his strong thighs, changing the angle, changing your movements to a slower rocking against his pelvis. The friction against your clit was perfect, the feeling of his big, throbbing dick so deep inside you, stretching you like no one before, sending electrical pulses through your spine. It was decadent. It was ecstasy.

It was torture. Underneath you, Tom was sobbing, eyes bright with unshed tears, fighting in vain against his bonds. He needed it faster, harder, anything to help tilt him over the edge you were keeping him on, your sweet cunt too tight, too good around him to allow his cock to soften, your rhythm too leisured to let the tensed, strained coil inside him to snap. You were uncaring, using him remorselessly to get yourself off, your little moans getting higher in pitch the closer you came to your climax. Tom felt himself getting higher just by looking at your beautiful pleasure ridden face. You cried out, and suddenly it was happening, you were coming, pulsating around his cock, falling apart on top of him.

And the ground beneath him quaked. The sky above his head bled, the blue twilight torn open by lightning, and thunder, despite the fact that there wasn't a single cloud marring its diaphaneity. You fell forwards, hand braced on the tree, next to his face, ridding the aftershocks of your orgasm until the end.

"No!" Tom cried when, after a few seconds of catching your breath, you dismounted him, letting his dick slip out of you.

You arched a brow,

"Something you want, Tommy?"

He locked his mouth shut, gritting his teeth. You smiled, amused, knuckles stroking his still iron hard cock.

"Do you need more, little hunter?" You enveloped him in your hand, moving it up and down his member, watching the head disappear under his foreskin, "Do you need to come?"

He banged the back of his head against the bark.

"Yes!" He finally admitted, "So badly…"

"Then beg" You commanded, stilling your hand. He snapped open the eyes he hadn't realized he had closed. Oh, if looks could kill…

"Never" He hissed, livid.

"Very well, then" You picked up your pace, pumping him fast, your grip almost too rough. He gasped for air, feeling the telltale tightening of his balls, the coil inside just about to break under the tension. But you must have felt it too, cause your hand let go of him altogether. Too late, he understood what you were doing.

One beat. And then another, and he was coming all over his t-shirt, orgasm completely ruined.

He cursed, tears escaping through the corner of his eyes, fingers digging into the moist ground under his hands. You chuckled, cruelly, standing up and stepping out of your shredded dress. He could have ganked you with the demon blade in that moment, he really could have, except his hands were still pinned by an invisible force at his sides.

"Let me go, you bitch," Tom growled, tossing, fighting against his restraints to no avail, "aren't you done?!"

"Not quite." You smiled, mockingly sweet, "Just one more thing before I leave. Don't worry, it will only hurt for a minute…"

He renewed his efforts to escape, as you bended over, reaching for his chest, white hot pain burning through his ribs. He almost cried out, but what he saw stole the voice from his throat, turned his blood into ice inside his veins, leaving him shaking, jaw slack and mouth open in a soundless scream:

You, naked and gorgeous and terrible. Transfixed, eyes glowing with a supernatural indigo light, the shadow of two massive, bended, broken wings projected on the trees behind you.

Not a demon, he thought. You're not a demon.

You smiled, and it was terrifying.

"No. I'm the thing demons have nightmares about" You replied out loud to the words he had only said in his mind, "And now, little hunter, you belong to me. Mind, body and soul"

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