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animeismyhappyplace · 3 months

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The Devil's Salvation

Synopsis: Lucifer's heart is hurting due to the recent extermination. In an effort to help shift some of the pain Y/N, his assistant, attempts to distract him with her body.

Set around episode 1 of Hazbin Hotel.

Word Count: 5K (5,930)

Trigger warnings: 18+ only!!!

Boss/employee relationship, power imbalance, biting, marking, hickies, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, brief oral (m.recieving), sex on furniture, cowgirl, dick riding, possessive language, cursing, pet names (sweetheart, baby, sweets, dear), fluffy ending, some Dom/sub/switch undertones, descriptive sex scene, Lucifer is a total cutie, some very minimal angst directed at extermination day rather than the characters.

The sky in Hell is dark and bleeding red as another extermination comes to its gruesome end.

Lucifer is slumped over his desk with a sour expression on his face as he throws one of his rubber ducks across the room "another year, another fucking blood bath" he grumbles to himself as he hears footsteps coming to his invention room.

He hears a few knocks as a soft voice breaks the silence "it's over Lucifer, can I come in?" His assistant Y/N asks quietly.

Lucifer's red eyes light up as his mood perks up "of course dear! Come in, come in~" He leans back in his chair, letting loose a small yawn scrunching his nose as he does.

He glances at the rubber duck laying on the ground, and then back at the woman in front of him "what brings you to my office?.." His voice remains soothing as he finally looks at her properly for the first time that day, she's wearing a red dress shirt with a matching striped skirt pretty similar to what he is wearing ‘cute, very cute’ he can't help but think with a small smile. Her dog-like ears flat against her head as she bows to him.

"I wanted to check on you sir, I know extermination days are taxing on your health" she frowns as she takes in his appearance, his hat has been placed on his desk, his staff nowhere to be seen and his eyes have large bags under them.

Lucifer gives out a soft chuckle, before putting one hand to his temple "yes, yes thank you for your concern, my dear. You are right, these kinds of days can be exhausting to say the least"

He glances at her noticing her ears still firmly pinned to her head so he tries to offer a small smile but it doesn't seem to work very well, she can see right through him.

"It's reassuring to know that someone cares about me in this shit hole, you're truly the best assistant I could ask for”

A small blush settles on her cheeks and her ears perk up a little as she shakes her head dismissively "it's my job to worry about you sir" she chuckles softly almost under her breath.

"As per usual for this time of year I've cleared your schedule so you have no commitments for the rest of the day" she's smiling as she speaks but Lucifer notices her brow is furrowed ever so slightly.

Lucifer raises his eyebrow, taking notice of the sour look on her face.

“Your concern is appreciated, and I’m grateful to have you by my side"

He pushes himself forward in his rather large chair and sighs.

"It’s nice that you cleared my schedule for me... I need a rest”

His tone remains soft with a subtle hint of affection, but his attention is captured by your worried expression.

"What’s wrong?" He asks in a soft tone.

Her eyes slide off to the side focusing on one of the mountains of rubber ducks, she sighs as she collects her thoughts before looking back at his scarlett eyes.

"The head exterminator, Adam, has made contact sir and he wants to meet. Wouldn't tell me why though" her brow furrows again more deeply this time as anxiety sinks into her heart.

Lucifer frowns as he processes the information.

"Adam made contact?" He takes a moment to collect his thoughts.

"And... he didn't tell you why?" Lucifer's voice has a slight hint of suspicion, and his expression turns more serious as Y/N shakes her head solemnly

"No, he refused to answer my questions, just said "arrange the meeting bitch" and flew off with the others" her nose crinkles in disgust as she thinks back to the arsehole angel.

Lucifer grunts in frustration as he stands up from his chair.

"That man sure is arrogant... but this is rather suspicious” Lucifer strokes his chin, pondering this sudden event.

"I'll take care of it, no need for you to worry~" Lucifer offers a reassuring smile and a gentle pat to her head, although the frown on his face shows a hint of his frustration.

Y/N starts to speak but thinks better of it as she watches Lucifer pull out his phone while walking into the hallway.

He comes back a few minutes later and explains that his daughter Charlie will be taking charge of the meeting so she can pitch her hotel to the angels. Y/N nods in understanding as he speaks.

"I'm sure she'll do brilliantly sir" Y/N smiles and Lucifer can't help but smile back at the young assistant, and chuckles at her words.

"Charlie will do great," Lucifer agrees "She's certainly more than capable of handling the meeting"

As Lucifer talks, he starts to pace around the room, his gaze distant as he thinks to himself.

The young woman tilts her head to the side slightly as she watches her boss "what's on your mind sir?" She presses gently, taking note he seems more lost in thought than usual.

Lucifer's eyes trail back to his assistant.

"I'm just thinking, my dear. It's strange that the head exterminator would make contact as opposed to showing up at the doors" Lucifer's brow was still in a puzzled expression.

Without much detail he continues to speak, sounding more concerned "It's.. not a great sign.. something's wrong, I feel it in my bones..”

Y/N walks towards Lucifer and takes a hold of the cuff of his pearly white jacket gently.

"Please stop worrying sir, I'm sure Charlie will do fabulously at this meeting and you'll know soon enough what Adam's plans are. Please sit and rest"

She pleads as she gently guides him back to his chair. Lucifer's eyebrows raise at her sudden action, but his eyes warmth and comfort as she urges him to sit back down.

"You're right.. I'm just letting my depression get the better of me HA HA” he tries to fake a laugh but it's hopeless, and walks back to his chair, sitting down.

There is a long stretch of silence, but he gives her a charming smile, offering one last glimpse of comfort.

“Thank you, my dear”

"of course sir, let me get you something to drink"

She bows as she leaves his study to find something to calm his nerves

Lucifer leans back into his seat, the tension slowly receding as he waits for her to come back. He glances at the rubber duck still lying on the floor, and rolls his eyes with a small chuckle. Despite his efforts to stay calm, he couldn't help but feel a bit anxious about this whole predicament.

Y/N returns quickly with some tea "this should help soothe some of your worries sir" she smiles as she pours him a cup of the warm beverage. Lucifer nods, his smile growing as he sees the cup in her hands.

"Thank you, my dear. You know, you're very perceptive of my needs.. I'm quite lucky to have you as my assistant" he says as he takes the cup from you.

She smiles brightly while nodding "I should hope so Lucifer sir, I've been working for you pretty much since I arrived in Hell"

Y/N clears away some of the papers scattered across his desk, keeping them safely to the side so as to not potentially spill tea on them.

Lucifer chuckles as he takes small sips of the tea, his eyes taking in the details of her movements as she clears up his desk.

"Indeed you have, you've been the best assistant I could ask for.."

Lucifer's tone is much warmer now, and he takes a big sip before continuing.

"Although I suppose I've never asked, how long have you been here in Hell in total?”

"Only a few years now but I guess it's not so bad down here, especially since I get to work for you" she smiles as she holds the tray the tea was on to her chest waiting for him to finish up. Lucifer's cheeks heat up as smiles, taking a few more sips and finishing up the tea.

"Well... I suppose I can't argue with that, especially when you say it so sweetly" Lucifer chuckles, brushing his hand through his golden hair.

"It's good that you feel right at home here. I'll admit, Hell can be a bit... overwhelming when you first get here”

Y/N clears away his used cup and places it off to the side as she's cleaning up she notices him walking up to a large window, looking down at the carnage left behind by the angels with a deep frown set into his usually delicate features.

"Sir?" She asks softly as she sees his shoulders tense up.

Lucifer pauses at the window, taking in the destruction as the bodies litter the streets.

His mood seems to have shifted dramatically from his previous lightheartedness, as his expression becomes very serious.

He glances back at Y/N, taking notice of her concerned glances.

"Hm?..." Lucifer says, his tone sounding rather calm "oh, it's nothing. Just.. observing, is all.”

Y/N sighs sadly before joining him at the window to see what he's looking at and when she does, she understands.

She can see the devastation left behind, sinners dead bodies piling up, the streets ablaze as overlords fight for new unclaimed territories. She can see the weight it leaves on his heart.

"This was never what I wanted you know all those years ago" he sighs but doesn't look at her, even with his attention fixed outside she can see the hurt swirling in his usually shining eyes.

Y/N lifts her hand tentatively to Lucifer's back in an effort to comfort him, even if it's only for a moment.

Lucifer turns his focus from the carnage back to the younger woman, and is caught slightly off guard by her sudden and kind gesture.

Lucifer’s red eyes are full of sorrow as he looks back at her, the weight of his burden clearly settling on his soul.

As her hand rests upon his back, he finds himself calming down, almost as if just her touch was enough to soothe some of his suffering.

"you can't blame yourself sir, you couldn't have known what would happen" ears twitching as she frowns at his pained expression, rubbing slow circles against his back.

Lucifer sighs sharply, leaning his back against her hand as she calms him with soft circular motions.

"You're right, I couldn't.. but I still do..." Lucifer mutters, his voice sounding much softer now.

There is a brief moment of silence, where he appears to just absorb the comforting warmth coming from her touch.

"That's a lot of weight to carry... even for a king" her hand stills on his back for a moment as she pulls away moving back towards his desk away from the window.

"I have a feeling things are going to change, very soon sir. Thanks you and your family" Y/N smiles as she rests against the edge of his desk.

Lucifer’s eyes dart over to her as she steps back and leans on his desk, his smile returning slightly at her optimistic words.

"Yes, I have that feeling too...."

Lucifer mutters thoughtfully.

"But regardless of what comes, I hope that you will always be here by my side, helping me carry whatever weight the future holds..." Lucifer says, his voice sounding slightly solemn yet also reassuring.

"You're my king Lucifer, I will be here as long as you desire" as silence slips between them Y/N clears her throat before speaking again "I'd say you use a distraction right about now sir"

A sweet and genuine smile touches Lucifer's lips as he raises an eyebrow.

"A distraction?.." Lucifer's voice is

playful as the gears start turning in his head.

She hums sweetly as her fingers drum anxiously against Lucifer's desk her eyes on his carpeted flooring "well Lilith has been gone for years now, you've been alone all that time"

Her eyes flit up to look at him "you must have been so lonely sir, you should look into fixing that" she watches for any changes to his body language with a barely hidden smirk.

Lucifer takes a moment to digest her words letting out a quiet chuckle, the corner of his lip twitching upwards.

"You're being rather bold my dear..."

Lucifer smiles softly while shaking his head with his eyebrows raised and a blush spreads across his pale cheeks

"Ah.. well.. I've not been entirely alone now, have I?..." His tone is playful, but she can feel the flirtatious nature behind them.

She bites her lip while smiling "you're right Lucifer, I've been right here"

She bats her eyelashes at him acting as sweetly as she can whilst pushing herself just off the edge of his large desk "and I'll always be right by your side sir"

As she bats her eyelashes at him he chuckles, a blush deepening his cheeks slightly.

There's a brief pause as his eyes scan over her body, taking notice of the cute way she's leaning on his desk. He speaks coyly back at her.

"Is that so?"

"Tell me dear, if I... needed someone to lean against.. would you be ready?”

Y/N leans forward to grasp his hand gently so he could pull away at any time "haven't I already shown I'm ready to stay by your side?"

She looks into his eyes as she tugs on his hand prompting him to come closer "I know how much Lilith leaving hurt you but I wouldn't do that ever"

Lucifer's heart skips a beat as he watches her take his hand, tugging him inches closer.

It takes him a moment, but Lucifer gently pulls her closer, until she is right in front of him, their bodies almost touching.

His breath catches as his eyes stare back at her doe like expression, he can't quite believe how cute she looks right now, her nose almost touching his own. Lucifer pauses, and glances down at her lips. His eyes flicker from her lips, and back to her eyes.

"You really won't, will you..?" Lucifer mutters quietly, sounding a bit breathless.

"The sweetest sinner in all of Hell" he almost whispers with a smile as his hands cup her face, his thumbs rubbing little circles against her cheeks

His tenderness shocks her though it really shouldn't for how long she's known him and she closes her eyes for a moment, enjoying their closeness and his tender touches

Her hands sneak up to his red striped dress shirt, pulling him ever closer bridging the gap between their bodies. Her lips stop just short of his own, so close she can feel the warmth of his breath.

She looks into his eyes and waits for him to decide if he really wants this, wants her.

Lucifer's heart almost stops as she pulls him close, his mind spinning rapidly making him dizzy as he realises how long it's been since he's felt affection like this. His eyes fixate on her cherry red lips, watching as she gets so close he can feel her body heat. He hesitates for a moment as he worries what will happen if things go wrong but he leans forward needing to take this risk.

Lucifer closes his eyes and presses his lips to hers. He kisses her so tenderly as though she'll break the second he lets go, and his hands grip her body tightly, pulling her even closer.

Y/N's hands grip Lucifer's waist as his hands move to pull her face closer, deepening their kiss.

Her chest is heaving slightly as he kisses her with more passion than she's ever felt, leaving her breathless.

Her cheeks are a deep shade of pink when Lucifer finally pulls away, she giggles as he bites his lip red irises watching her intently

Lucifer's breath is still staggered as he pulls away from her lips, red-faced and blushing. He pulls himself away from her, as a light-hearted grin spreads across his cheeks.

His eyes glance down to her lips, and his brows raise.

"It seems my assistant has gotten a bit too familiar with me~..." Lucifer teases with a playful smirk.

She gasps pushing at his chest playfully while giggling at his teasing words "who in Hell could blame me when my boss looks like this"

She bites her lip as she intertwines their fingers pulling him towards the lavish chair seated behind his desk, she gestures for him to sit as her hungry eyes rake down his form.

Lucifer chuckles as he allows her to pull him towards the chair. As he sits down comfortably, he notices the way she's looking at him and he smiles, his golden eyebrows raising up in a flirtatious manner. He gives her a playful wink.

"You're a real handful, my dear.. I hope you know that?”

She smirks as she climbs into his lap, licking her lips as he lets out a surprised grunt "oh I'm counting on it sir"

A sly smile forms on Lucifer's face as he glances up at her.

He lets out a little laugh, amused at her boldness. His hands trail softly up and down her sides, his fingers tracing little circles against her skin as he bites his lip muttering with a grin "fuck sweetheart you're going to be the death of me”

Y/N shifts slightly once in his lap, wiggling her hips as she gets comfortable, looping her hands around his neck as she steals his lips in another kiss.

Her tongue licks over his bottom lip as he hungrily accepts her affections.

Lucifer's body immediately responds to her touch, his entire frame heating up as she kisses and nibbles softly at his lip.

His fingers tighten around her hips, pulling her closer, and his other hand trails her body from her hips all the way to her neck.

Lucifer pulls back ever so slightly, his breath staggered, feeling as if he might melt from the heat rising between them.

"You're lucky I don't get visitors often sweetheart, who knows what vicious rumors would be spread if you were caught in my lap" Lucifer mumbles in between kisses.

Y/N's kisses trail across Lucifers lips to his rosy cheeks then down to his jaw as she starts nibbling at the delicate flesh "I'm sure you'd find a way to silence them"

Hearing Lucifer's sinful groans, her hips start to gently rock back and forth as her tongue laps at his neck, sucking harshly in the places that make his groans deepen.

Lucifer's breath catches in his throat as his back arches slightly with every gentle kiss. Just the feel of her breathing heavily against his neck drives him crazy, the heat rushing through his body and spreading like a fever.

He bites his lip to prevent himself from letting out any more noises, his head lolling back slightly as she sucks on his neck. A breathy groan escapes him without notice, as his breathing grows more rapid, his cheeks redder.

"f-fuck I need..." He whines as his hands fly out to grip steady onto her hips, grinding the growing tent in his pants up against her.

Her skirt starts to ride up as his body jolts from the stimulation, her breaths leaving her throat in hiccups as she feels him poking at her inner thighs.

"L-Luci~" she moans breathlessly, her hips stuttering as he rubs against her clothed core.

Lucifer's jaw muscles tighten as he grips her body tighter, almost going mad listening to her sweet sounds.

Her voice sounds like a soothing melody to his ears, and he can't hold himself back any longer. He begins to kiss her throat, and even licks the skin between her neck and shoulder biting softly.

Y/N whines as he teases her body, lolling her head back to give him more space to mark her neck and shoulder.

Lucifer pulls back once he's satisfied with his work eyeing the claim he's laid on her body. Her breath catches in her throat as he lifts her from his lap onto his desk.

"My dear, I dare say you've never looked more divine than you do right now" he bites his lip as she's laid out before him, her chest heaving and her legs spread as he slots himself between her thighs.

Y/N runs her fingertips along the edge of her skirt before she starts to slowly and teasingly tug it upwards revealing more of her body to her king.

Lucifer watches her slowly and teasingly tug your skirt up with interest. His eyes trailing up her body, taking in every inch of her skin as she reveals more of herself to his greedy eyes.

A breathy groan escapes him at the sight as he grips the meat of her thighs tightly. Spreading her legs out as he licks his lips at the damp patch on her underwear a low whimper escapes his throat "you'll surely drive me mad, sweetheart"

He utters softly, as a blush spreads across his cheeks. His tongue slipped out to wet his lips. Her cheeks heat up at his sultry words making her whine in embarrassment and hunger "Luci please"

Her hands reach out to grasp at this forearms, gripping tightly as she tries to wiggle her hips looking for some attention to be paid to her heated skin.

Lucifer's mouth twitches at the pure desperation in her eyes, his hands trailing up and down her legs before moving back to the top of her thighs to her thighs. He gives them both a quick squeeze, drawing her attention back towards him.

His soft whispers carry a hint of playful teasing.

"Pretty desperate for my attention huh?" Lucifer asks in a low voice as his red eyes watch her reactions carefully.

She nods helplessly as her eyes fog up with unshed tears, his teasing touches pure torture as his fingers leave heat and desire everywhere they touch.

"N-need you to do something, anything... Please baby" she pleads as her arms reach up above her head to grasp at the edge of his desk.

Lucifer bites his lip, and he can't help just how much her words excite him... her hunger is so apparent, so raw, and the way she begs for what she wants does nothing to help the problem in his pants.

He leans in closer, his eyes darting to her neck and jaw before he quickly dips his head down, his mouth placing a short peck of a kiss just above her collarbone.

His kisses continue down her body until he reaches the band of her panties. He gives her one firm look, as if to say ‘tell me know if you need to stop’, but she shakes her head and lifts her hips, wiggling them teasingly making him smirk.

"Who knew my soft spoken assistant would be so greedy?" he mutters with a smile as his thumb pushes into the wet spot on her panties making her gasp at the sudden stimulation. Enjoying her reaction he moves his thumb up slightly to rub against her clothed clit, grinning widely when her thighs tremble.

"This is what you wanted right sweetheart? wanted my fingers to play with your cute little pussy?"

Her head nods aggressively as she bites down on her tongue to stifle the wanton moans waiting to escape.

She can't help but rock her hips forward against his hand wanting more, needing more as her skin feels like it's been set alight with passion and desire.

Lucifer chuckles softly as he watches her squirm under his touch, licking his lips as he feels her slick coat his thumb.

"Ah ah ah, you need to use your big girl words if you want something from me" he grins wickedly.

"Need your fingers Luci" she pouts cutely when he raises his eyebrow at her.

A smirk spreads across his pink cheeks as he pulls her panties down her legs and throws them off to the side, sucking in a breath as he admires her naked body, wetness and need shining across her skin "Yeah? where do you need me hmm?"

A stray tear streaks down her cheeks as she whines "n-need your fingers in my pussy, fuck please Luci! I-I need-"

Lucifer grins wickedly as he watches her squirm under his gaze, leaning down to place a soft kiss on the tip of her nose then to her cheek and he even places a soft kiss on her fluffy ears before straightening back up. He smirks at her desperation, sliding his fingers into her dripping pussy and grinning widely as she lets out a shaky moan.

Y/N's head lolls back and her eyes roll as she finally gets the stimulation she needed, whines tumbling out of her strained throat as her hands turn white from her gripping so hard at his desk "f-fuckk..."

Lucifer watches her closely, his fingers curling inside her wet heat, relishing in the way she squirms and begs for more.

He leans down once more, his lips brushing against her neck as he murmurs, "Talk to me sweetheart... Tell me how good I make you feel?"

His fingers curl upwards his thumb swipes across her clit making her almost cry as the pleasure wrecks through her shaking body.

Her thighs shake as sweat starts to pool against her forehead, her hips bucking wildly at the onslaught of pleasure Lucifer is giving her "I- you- fuuck so fucking good, love your t-thick fingers Luci”

Lucifer chuckles softly, pleased by her response as he starts to move his fingers in and out of her wet pussy faster, his thumb continuing to tease her clit with feather-light touches.

He can't help but lean down to place another kiss on her collarbone. His teeth graze along the soft skin, eliciting a shiver from his lover.

Y/N's sweet moans and the wet squelches of her abused pussy fill the quiet room, a strangled cry leaves her chapped lips as his fingers bump a spongy spot in her tight walls, he almost stops his movements as the realisation hits making him chuckle "Theree it is, that's the spot yeah sweetheart?"

She rocks her hips in time with the thrusts of his fingers as her moans pitch up in volume, she can't help but babble as the pleasure builds "there.... fuck d-don stop" another desperate whine "gonna cum... fuck! fuck! FUCK!”

Lucifer smirks as he watches her lose control, her body arching off the desk in search of more pleasure. His fingers curled deeper inside her, finding that spot again and again as he relished in the power he held over her.

Her eyes roll back as her walls clamp down on his fingers, his thumb rubbing tight circles over her throbbing clit until her high slowly ends.

Her breathing is erratic as her high tingles over her limbs before slowly ebbing away leaving her body limp, when her eyes can fully focus she sees Lucifer slurping up the wetness coating his fingers.

The sight alone is so sinful it sends fresh waves of need flooding through her veins as her hands reach out for him.

Lucifer grins mischievously, watching her every move. He licks his fingers clean with a soft moan, savoring the taste of her on his tongue.

"You're irresistible," he murmurs, his voice rough with need.

She gently guides Lucifer down to sit in the plush chair "your turn baby~"

Y/N licks her lips as she sinks to her knees before him, running her hands over his strong thighs. Slowly moving her way up until her fingers hit his pristine white belt, she discards it off to the side of the room as she works on pulling down his suit pants, smiling sinfully as she notices the wet spot soaking through his boxers.

Lucifer groans softly as he feels her hands on him, his cock twitching in anticipation. He watches her with hooded eyes, a mix of desire and possession in their depths. Her thumb rubs over the wet spot making his hips jump at the sudden pleasure.

"You like making me cum on your fingers this much Luci?" she grins as she flicks her tongue over the wetness moaning softly at the first taste of his pre.

"I love seeing you so submissive, it drives me wild," he answers, his voice deep and husky. He watches her hungrily, his eyes locked on the sight of her teasing his cock “and those cute little moans you let out? Truly sinful baby”

She hums to herself as she pulls the suffocating materiel down his legs joining the growing pile on the floor, her eyes widening as she takes in the size of his cock for the first time mumbling more to herself than to him "such a pretty cock”

His eyes squeeze shut tightly as her delicate fingers reach out to explore his body, her pink tongue licks up the length of his cock so suddenly it makes Lucifer suck in a breath as he groans "definitely going to be the death of me sweetheart... f-fuck~"

His cute reaction makes her smile and raises her confidence. This time she flattens her tongue, rolling it over his slit taking the time to lick up all the precum drooling over his cock head, moaning as it coats her tongue and bottom lip.

Lucifer's breath hitches at the sensation, his hips jerking forward almost involuntarily. He bites his lip, trying to keep control as she lavishes him with her attention "such a good fucking girl f'me"

His soft grunts and groans raise in volume as she starts to suck on his swollen heads, flicking her tongue over his slit as her hands pump his length "f-feels too good baby... You gotta stop or I'll cum too quick, wanna cum in your pretty little pussy"

She giggles but concedes giving him one last long lick up the length of his cock following the thick veins she finds before she allows him to lift her onto his lap.

Once settled she gives him a deep passionate kiss tasting herself on his tongue as his hand dips between their bodies to line himself up, rubbing his cock over her clit once then twice before finally sinking into her tight pussy.

Lucifer's hands grasp her hips tightly as he feels himself sinking into her wet heat, his fingers digging into her soft skin. He groans deeply into their kiss, his tongue dancing with hers to muffle their sounds of pleasure.

He holds her hips tightly in place as he fills her up fully "y'gotta stay still for me sweets or I'll finish right now 'kay?"

She nods as she sucks his bottom lip into her mouth, nibbling on it as she adjusts to his massive size.

Her body shakes as his thumb rubs on her swollen clit making broken moans slip from her throat as he suddenly thrusts his hips upwards making them both groan " 'kay you can move now, you gonna ride me pretty girl?"

Her arms loop around his neck as she starts to slowly lift up then sinking back down so he's filling her to the hilt. After a few slow movements her desperation increases, finding a place to steady both of her feet she starts to bounce on his cock, the angle making his head hit her sweet spot with every thrust.

Sweat starts to coat both of their half naked bodies, pain starting to set into her limbs but the pleasure he's giving her is too good for her to break, her head falls back and his hands grip her waist tight helping her to rock up and down at a steady rhythm.

Lucifer's hands tighten on her waist, one sliding down to the small of her back while the other grips the flesh above her ass cheek as she rides him.

He groans deeply, watching as his cock sinks into her tight walls with every movement and rocking his hips in time with hers "love this tight little pussy~ could have been fucking you like this for years if I'd known how well you take me sweetheart"

Y/N preens at his praise, doubting her efforts. Her throat constricts with every moan but if feels so good she couldn't care less "need you to keep fucking me Luci, love your cock sooo much feels too good”

Lucifer's eyes glow a dark red with lust as he looks up at her, one of his hands sliding up to grab her breasts, pinching and rolling the nipples between his fingers the other dripping lower to play with her clit, drilling his hips up into her dripping pussy "I'm not stopping until you cum on my cock sweetheart~”

The pleasure he's giving her is too much for her spent body, her thighs start to shake as the coil tightening in her stomach threatens to snap "yes yes yes Luci baby shit!~ m'close so fucking close" her walls start to calm down on his cock.

"Fuck" he grunts, his thrusts becoming jerkier and harder as he feels her start to tighten around him "Come on sweetheart, let go~ need to feel you cum on my cock~"

He gives her two more powerful thrusts, mumbling words of encouragement in her ear nibbling on her earlobe.

"that's it pretty~ look how your walls are clamping down on me, I'm fucking you so good your body won't let me pull out"

Gasps fall from her lips like the most unholy prayers as her body stills the pleasure flooding wildly through her veins, shaky moans tumbling from her lips as she cries his name over and over until she can barely speak any longer.

Lucifer's thrusts match hers, pounding into her as he feels her walls start to spasm around him. He groans deeply, his own pleasure starting to build as he watches her cum hard on his cock.

He can't help but whine loudly as her orgasm triggers his own, his body shaking as he dumps his load into her quivering walls crying her name as he holds her tight to his body.

Lucifer places soft kisses on each spot of her skin he can reach as she comes down from the high, she returns his affections leaving purple and red blotches down his neck and the along his jaw wanting to show all of Hell her handy work, possessiveness shining in her eyes as she watches his blissed out face.

Lucifer smiles softly at her, his eyes filled with pure adoration. He nuzzles against her neck, leaving a trail of kisses down to her collarbone.

He hums lowly in his throat, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin as he leans in to nip at her neck gently.

"So fucking beautiful," he murmurs, slowly pulling out of her body and readjusting so they're more comfortable.

"You're truly mine, aren't you sweetheart?" He whispers, his voice husky with tiredness.

Her fingers reach upt o cup his face gently as she looks into his eyes "for as long as you'll have me, sir" she winks cheekily at him placing kisses along his jaw hiding her heated cheeks.

Lucifer chuckles softly, his fingers trailing down her sides to soothe her sensitive skin.

"That's my girl," he breathes out before leaning in to capture her lips in a slow deep kiss, lifting her body into his arms to carry her to his bedroom.

Beautiful banner by: @/saradika

2K notes · View notes

perlelune · 3 months

Text

Oxytocin | Coriolanus Snow | v. {END}

One act of kindness from a peacekeeper may be your salvation or your doom. Possibly both.

Warnings: DUB-CON, Blackmail, District 8 Reader, Stalking, Kidnapping

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

A deep breath flows from your lungs as you examine your reflection in the cracked, stained mirror. It’s been in your family for years and you never had the heart to rid yourself of it, despite the object’s sorry state. Like everything in the small house, it harbors a plethora of fond memories.

You arrange a few unruly strands of your hair. Though you immediately feel silly for doing so.

It’s not like he cares what you look like. It never bothered him before. He always seeks you out, even when you are worn and sweaty after working a long day at the factory.

As you tiptoe across the room, your gaze settles on Tilly’s tiny form. Soft breaths lift her chest up and down. She is fast asleep, thankfully. Words are amiss to explain where you’re sneaking off to tonight, who you’re planning on meeting up with…or perhaps there are words for that, some you are too terrified to even fathom. Two young people secretly wandering the streets of District 8 at night to find each other and…

Your cheeks flare with warmth.

This isn’t what Coriolanus is to you. He is your tormentor. That is all. If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t be shaking like a leaf in the dark, your stomach threatening to drop to your feet.

One of the moth-eaten, dusty floorboards squeaks below your feet as you reach the exit door and nudge it open.

“Are we going somewhere?”

Startled by your cousin’s drowsy voice, you turn around so fast that your head spins. She blinks at you curiously as she sits up in her bed. A heavy sigh peals from your lips. Smiling from ear to ear, you approach her.

You hunker down in front of her.

“I am. You’re not, sweetie.”

“Where?”

Your stomach coils. Still, your smile remains intact.

“Just gotta run an errand quickly,” you lie while cupping her cheek. “We’re running out of your medicine. We have to make sure you stay healthy past the winter.”

She yawns and glances at the twinkling stars through the window.

“But it’s so late.”

Excuses dwindle in your head. You retreat to the authoritative older sibling tone you sometimes use to get your cousin to do her chores.

“I’ll be back before you know it. Just go back to sleep, okay?”

You tuck Tilly back into bed. Arranging the blanket over her gingerly, you drop a soft kiss on her forehead.

Your cousin nods and curls herself beneath her blanket. Relief swells within you. She is too little to hear about the purpose of your nightly trip. In fact, you plan on her never knowing a thing about it. With luck, all of it will end tonight. You’ll bow to the peacekeeper’s demands. One last time. Then you’ll bury the awful memory in the furthest, deepest recesses of your mind and never look back.

It’s what you hope will happen.

Cool winds skate across your skin when you step outside. The moon trails your quiet, anxious trek through the alleys of District 8, its silver beams lighting the cobblestoned path. Every time your feet hit the ground, the nervousness in the pit of your stomach grows. Perhaps you should have stayed home, risked his wrath. You are so painfully unready for whatever the peacekeeper has in store for you. Your wild, palpitating heart seems as if it’ll burst out of your chest any second now.

Suddenly, your tremulous walk is halted.

Familiar fingers snake around your wrist. You’re pulled into a dark corner and shoved against a wall. A stunned gasp hops from your throat.

Coriolanus smirks at your reaction.

“No need to be scared, birdie. It’s just me,” he whispers, balancing his arm above your head in a way that makes you feel caged.

“Coriolanus.”

He seizes your chin, cobalt eyes drinking you in. His voice is almost soft.

“You really thought I’d let you walk on your own at night? It’s not safe.”

He parts from the wall. His hand wraps around yours. He tugs you along and you have no choice but to follow.

“Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll recognize it.”

Indeed, you do. To your utter despair. After strolling through a vertiginous amount of dank alleyways and narrow stairs, you and the peacekeeper end up in front of a place that bears a daunting familiarity.

As the neon lights of the brothel fill your sight, your apprehension skyrockets.

Snippets of memories of what occurred the last time you were here lurk inside your mind. Your insides clutch.

Coriolanus sighs. His thumb sweeps across your palm, almost tenderly.

“It won’t be like last time. I promise. You can trust me.”

The same beautiful woman welcomes the two of you. Once again, there’s a flirting lilt to her tone, one the peacekeeper ignores. Coriolanus asks about a room. His questions about it fade amidst the uproarious drumming of your heart inside your ears. You’re a jittery wreck behind him, your gaze bouncing from wall to wall.

His deep voice yanks your attention back to him.

“Birdie?”

“Y-Yes?”

The corner of his lips quirks upward.

“Come with me.”

You nod. Is it too late to make a run for it? Though you’d rather not find out how much worse this could get, how mean Coriolanus could turn. He didn’t even hesitate to have you on your knees before, simply to make a point. He’s in good spirits now, nicer than he’s ever been to you, even humming a light tune to himself. Maybe you should aim to keep it that way. Tread the path of least resistance, as much as you loathe yourself for surrendering to him so easily.

You enter the room. Your heart leaps when you hear him lock the door behind you. The inside is nicely decorated. Candles around the canopy bed at the center of the room provide a soft, intimate light.

Red and white rose petals are scattered over the silk sheets.

Your heart skips a beat when his breath ghosts over your neck.

“It’s pretty, right?” His hands settle over your hips, his chin resting on your shoulder. “I had it decorated specially for us.”

He shifts you so you’re facing him. Fingers sneak below your chin, tilting it upward. Your stomach flutters as you get lost in his blue eyes. They burn into you like coals in the swaying candlelight.

“Has anyone ever done something this nice for you?”

You remain silent for a while, fiddling with the scarf around your neck, the one he gave you.

“N-No,” you eke out after an eternity.

He starts pulling on your scarf. When it hits the floor, exposing your neck to his gaze, you already feel incredibly vulnerable. You tremble as Coriolanus begins to circle around you. As he does that, more articles of clothing join your scarf on the floor, turning into a growing heap at your feet.

First he unbuttons your shirt. When it’s loose on your frame, he pulls on it lightly until it slides off you. Next he unlaces your skirt. Coriolanus is slow, digits dragging over your quivering flesh as he peels every layer of fabric off you. Eventually, you are bare before him. Goosebumps peek under your skin as he spends a torturous minute simply appraising you. Lust swells his pupils, nearly drowning the blue in his eyes.

“Have you ever done this before?”

You shake your head. He seizes your jaw, angling your face upward.

“No miners? No factory worker? No one before me?”

Heat rushes to your face. Still, you shake your head again, faintly wishing you could sink inside the earth and disappear.

Satisfaction illuminates his features.

“So I’m your first.” He caresses your arm. You will yourself still, despite the itch to run away searing through you like a hot knife. His voice lowers to a husky whisper. “I wish you’d see I’m not your enemy, birdie.”

He then shocks you. Layer by layer, Coriolanus starts to shed every part of his peacekeeper uniform. Every piece of clothing falls into a heap on the floor that melds with yours.

When he peels off his boxers, your throat dries. He’s thick and long, just as you remember. Apprehension settles within you. His eyes lock with yours. “Do I look like your enemy right now?” he mumbles. Your pulse picks up as he approaches you. Your gaze drifts everywhere and nowhere, your breath caged in your lungs.

“I don’t know.”

“Do I scare you?”

“Yes.”

His mouth slants crookedly.

“But not in the way you wished, right?”

You gawk at him, wide-eyed and dry-mouthed.

The courage to answer never finds its way into your heart. Coriolanus’ lips however find their way onto yours. At first, the kiss is soft and firm. Cradling your face, he sweeps his mouth over yours without haste. Meticulously slow. As if he wishes to commit your taste to memory.

He nudges you backwards onto the bed. When your back collides with the mattress, his mouth turns more ravenous. His tongue explores the roof of your mouth while his hands wander lower, kneading at your curves. Your head spins. You keen against his tongue as a sick twinge of something you won’t name flickers in your core.

When his mouth parts from yours, you’re both equally breathless, his warm breath mingling with yours. You find yourself almost longing for the heady feeling. Almost. The blond smiles down at your dazed expression.

He traces your jaw with his thumb.

“You can scream as much as you like, you know? No one will come to your rescue.”

“I won’t scream,” you say, defiance igniting your gaze.

“Oh but you will,” he replies with confidence. His mouth ghosts over your earshell. “You’re all mine tonight, pretty bird.” His mouth tugs upwards. “And I plan on making you beg for it before the morning comes.”

As if to emphasize his point, he slithers down your body. The entire time, he corrals your gaze, his blue eyes shimmering in the darkness. He wedges himself between your thighs, meeting only meek resistance as he pushes them apart.

Coriolanus appraises your slick folds. He drags a finger alongside your slit, mirth lighting up his face.

“Already so wet for me, birdie,” he says.

Your face heats. You could try to contradict him but the evidence is right there between your legs. Impossible to escape or deny. You are sinfully, embarrassingly wet in front of the peacekeeper.

“I-”

Brazenness melts off your tongue when he presses his lips to your core. He feasts on your weeping folds, his unyielding fingers keeping you placid and open. His tongue teases your tender nub, drawing torturous patterns. Your muscles tighten. The air in your lungs rushes in and out faster as Coriolanus’ tragically skilled tongue sends zings of shameful pleasure through your spine.

Meticulous and slow, he takes his time to taste you. Every second he spends unraveling you is the most sensual torture.

Your trembling fingers claw at the sheets, your eyes rolling back. You glance down. A peculiar tingle dances through your belly when you catch sight of the blond’s head bobbing between your thighs. Despite your center aching for release, you fight the urge to buck your hips into his mouth and seek more of the delectable contact. He sucks your swollen clit between his lips, pushing his tongue between your folds. You gulp down a sharp scream. Waves of pleasures sweep through your frame. Your lids flutter as your stomach tightens. A painful tension settles in your limbs, heat gathering in your core.

For a long time, you try to stay quiet. You bite yourself hard enough to draw blood as you muffle every whimper and moan struggling to break past the confines of your lips.

Coriolanus makes his way up your body, his index and middle finger replacing his tongue. Quick exhales burst from your chest as you peer at him through your hazy vision.

“I want to hear you, birdie,” he rasps, his fingers catching on your bottom lip, forcing your mouth open. He sinks a finger inside you. Your chest lifts, brushing against his. When the digit hooks between your slick walls, grazing against your sensitive spot, you unleash a loud squeal.

The blond smiles.

“There. So much better.”

He sneaks another finger inside your core, stretching you even more. Unused to the feeling, you whine and grip a fistful of the sheets. He pumps inside you, finding a steady rhythm that has you twitching beneath him. The broken moans spilling from your tongue mingle with the wet sounds your cunt makes as he explores you with his fingers.

Embarrassment is slowly nudged aside by the storm of delectable sensations growing inside you.

The heel of his hand keeps grazing against your swollen button, eliciting spikes of pleasure through your flesh.

His forehead rests against yours, his feathery lashes falling to half-mast as he whispers,

“Come for me, birdie.”

Your breathing accelerates, his words propelling you closer to your peak. You clench around his fingers. Your legs tense. Warm tingles swirl across your flesh as your back arches.

A lightning bolt of pleasure passes through you, quick and intense. For a few seconds, not a thought occupies your mind. You are nothing but a million nerve endings on fire.

Your boneless frame crashes over the sheets.

“Good girl,” he praises, his smile expanding. His fingers pull out of you and he brings them to his lips. You watch, sickly fascinated as he dips them into his mouth, reveling in your taste. He hums in appreciation. Your face warms. He then places those same digits over your own lips, forcing you to taste yourself. He bends over you, peppering sluggish kisses in the crook of your neck. His hand splays over your heaving chest, his thumb rubbing your nipples until they pebble under his touch. His lips trail lower on your body.

He pauses, looming over you. Hands on each side of you, Coriolanus lines his tip with your entrance. Your eyes widen in surprise. You squirm and try to scoot away, panic rushing through you.

He yanks you back on the bed with ease, his body pinning yours onto the mattress. When you reach for his face, hoping to land a blow, he snatches your wrists and slams them above your head.

He scoffs, “So feisty, even to the bitter end.”

Your breath falters when his thick tip stretches you open. Even that single inch of him feels like too much. Rapid breaths burst from your fluttering chest.

Tears quiver beneath your lashes.

“It hurts…”

He pushes until he’s halfway inside you. Pain shoots through you as you sob.

The tears spill. He releases one of your wrists to fondle your cheek.

“Shh, it’s okay, pretty bird. I’ve got you.”

He shoves inside you until he grazes your hilt. Your lips part in a quiet scream, your vision flickering. For a while, Coriolanus remains still, giving you time to accommodate his thick girth. He starts moving, his thrusts slow and deep. The longer he fucks you, the more the pain morphs into something else. Something not entirely unpleasant, albeit a little terrifying. The aching stretch becomes tantalizing, your wet walls clinging to his length every time it drags against your soft spots. Little whimpers leave your throat as you cling to his bicep.

Coriolanus’ hand wraps around your jaw.

“Focus on me and only me,” he instructs.

Your eyes dive into his. Flames dance in his cobalt orbs. He smiles, his thumb sweeping over your bottom lip.

“Such an obedient girl.”

“How does it feel now?” he grunts. You note the sweat glistening over his bare muscles, dotting at his brow. His exhales are more strained now, matching yours.

You keen at a sharp snap of his pelvis into yours. He picks up the pace, bending one of your thighs against your chest to thrust as far as his cock will go. Your toes curl, blissful shivers creeping their way up your spine.

“Awful,” you wheeze out.

He snickers. “You’re a horrible liar, birdie.”

You sense him nearing the cusp of his pleasure. His cock twitches between your walls and you plead, panicked, “Corio…Coriolanus…not inside, please.”

A crooked grin spreads on his lips.

“But wouldn’t it be wonderful, if I left you something to remember me by.”

You shudder, shaking your head. “No…”

He slips his fingers between your joined bodies, drawing a long moan from you when he starts rubbing your pulsing clit. He plays with your tender bud until you cry out. You come apart around him, slick walls hugging him snugly as he shoots his thick seed inside you.

Dread settles in your bones, piercing through the haze of delight. You tremble as the stickiness trickles alongside your walls.

He lets out a throaty sigh, trapping you underneath him so you can’t move.

“Yes,” he breathes out, burying his head in the crook of your neck. Your mouth opens in shock as another tear traces a blazing path down your cheek. He scatters bruising kisses along the column of your neck. His cruel words sear into your flesh. “That way you can never forget you were mine before anyone else, birdie.”

You awake with a start, bruised and sore, in the massive bed. Your glance darts around, confusing filling you as you tuck the blanket against your frame. Your shoulders sag. You note faint sunlight pouring through the crimson curtains. All the candles from last night have been blown out.

It’s the next day. You are alone. You shiver at the sight of the rumpled sheets, glimpses from the night before seeping through your mind. Coriolanus kept true to his word and made you sing for him the entire night. He was relentless and didn’t stop until you passed out from pleasure. In fact, you were so exhausted, you can’t pinpoint the moment he left. You simply recall him cooing soft praises in your ear as he had his way with you for the last time.

For a moment, you held some fear that he would never leave, since he was so hellbent on making you come around him as many times in a row as he could.

What terrifies you most however, is that last night wasn’t terrible. Not entirely. Or not in the way you pictured at least. Heat creeps up in your cheeks at the thought.

You clamber off the bed, wincing at the aching stiffness of your limbs. You collect your clothes and begin to dress. You’re eager to leave the room. It stinks of sex and shameful mistakes.

As you climb down the stairs, the madam greets you with a wiggle of her fingers. You bristle, shame glowing inside your chest.

She bends over the wooden handrail, her cleavage threatening to spill out of her dress.

“He said you were free to stay in the room to rest for the entire day if you wished. Paid in full before he left.”

“I don’t want to stay.”

You hasten your pace to reach the exit faster.

She stops you in your tracks, a mischievous grin dancing on her lips.

“So the pretty boy didn’t tire you out then?” She tilts her head and pouts. “Pity. I imagined him to be a more…zealous lover.”

Your cheeks flame as you rush out of the brothel. You can’t get back home fast enough.

You need a shower expeditiously. Never before have you longed for the freezing cold spray to hit your skin so badly.

You return home to at least a month’s worth of supplies and medicine in several bags.

There’s even candy for your cousin, the same he brought her last time. Your cousin’s overjoyed, of course, but you remind her not to overindulge.

Nothing else accompanies them. No letter. No card. You should feel happy at that, you surmise. Finally, you are free to live life on your own terms, return to your routine.

Part of you is a little stunned by it however, and perhaps expect the peacekeeper to not be truly gone. For days, you keep wondering if he’ll materialize from a dark corner or surprise you as you stroll down a dank alleyway.

None of that occurs. Still, it takes weeks for your blood not to chill anymore at the sight of a peacekeeper. After a month of tranquil, humdrum days, you’re forced to admit it. Coriolanus has granted you the peace he promised.

Your chest is a little lighter as you head to the factory everyday. You even start smiling again, which Yara and Tilly keep teasing you about.

But you can’t help it. No more feeling scared or confused. No more eyes trailing your every move. You’re relieved, happy. Life in district 8 may sometimes be uncertain but, at least, you hold your destiny in your hands once more.

Blessed freedom. Finally.

So you let yourself relax. Over time, the terror gripping your gut melts away. The tightness in your chest eases.

Your mind is so at ease that you don’t notice the shadow creeping behind you on your way out of the factory. It’s too late when you do.

A black cloth is shoved over your head as you turn a street corner. You’re hauled off your feet and dragged into a dim alley. Your heart races, panic flooding you as you’re tossed into the back of a vehicle.

The engine roars to life. Every question you ask is ignored, your kidnappers frustratingly silent. You wonder if you’ll die or be sold off to traffickers. You’ve heard of district girls disappearing sometimes, the kind no one will miss or ask too many questions about.

They often end up in sordid places. You’ve heard the stories. Some could end up in the mines, in shady brothels or even wind up as an Avox maid with their tongues cut off. Chills swirl over your skin.

Is it to be your fate? Being carted off to some hellish place and worked to death?

The car stops. Your pulse soars. Quick breaths pour from your mouth as you’re roughly carried to some other place. You struggle, trying to kick your assailant. You land a blind strike and hear a curse. You make a run for it, your blood singing wildly.

It’s pathetic the swiftness with which you’re caught, as if your attempt meant nothing.

You’re shoved into a box. As the slamming of a hammer surrounds you, sealing your fate, you begin to sob. You used to think you were just born in the wrong place, unlucky, like so many others. Now you’re starting to believe you are cursed.

Shivers wrack your frame as the box is lifted. Your stomach lurches. The entire trip is a nightmare. Dread grips you tight as questions crowd your mind about who’s taking you and why. After a while, you realize you’re on a train. Your terror swells.

You’re being moved out of District 8. You haven’t left your district since birth. For better or worse, this was your home.

After an awful, rambunctious journey, the box is finally opened. You hear grunting above you as the lid of the box is pried open.

The bag over your head is removed and you take in a lungful of clean air. Strong arms hoist you out of the box. You clumsily stumble to your feet.

You whirl.

An audible breath skips off your tongue as you take in who stands before you. He looks so different. No more peacekeeper uniform. No more buzzcut.

“Coriolanus?” you gasp.

He smiles. “Hi, birdie.” A wave of snow engulfs your veins.

He sweeps a hand over his silver curls, sounding almost bashful.

“Do you like it? I’m trying to grow it out again.”

Ignoring him, you peer at your surroundings. The white room has a vaulted glass ceiling that allows sunlight in. The pearly marble tiles are pristine. Other than that, you only find one opening. A small door on the other side. You scuttle across the room to reach it.

The door knob shakes but doesn’t give. Still, you insist, your desperation growing. Your heart sinks as you glance down at the tiny keyhole in the door.

Coriolanus’ deep voice approaches from behind you.

“This is a locked cell, pretty bird,” he explains. “And I’m the only one with the key. Dr. Gaul uses it for her more…feral experiments. But she’s granted me permission to use it for an experiment of my own.”

You whip around. “Dr. Gaul?”

You feign interest, hoping to distract him, having noted the tiny golden key dangling from his neck. Coriolanus catches you looking at it and smirks. “My mentor. Don’t worry. I’ll walk you through everything. I’m sure you’ll fit right in over time.”

He inches closer and you stagger backwards.

“W-Why am I here?”

Instead of being offended by your attempts to shy away from him, the blond seems mildly amused, studying you as he paces around the room.

“I couldn’t let my sweet bird wither away in a filthy district, of course. I belong in the Capitol, and you belong to me.”

You gape at him. While you knew him to be some entitled rich kid from the Capitol, you never imagined he’d take it this far. Steal you away like you’re some shiny object that struck his fancy at the marketplace. Not a person with a life and desires of their own.

“You’re insane,” you hiss.

His mouth twitches, marking the first hint of displeasure at your reaction.

“We’ll have to work on that coarse mouth of yours. It will not stand here.” His tone grows chillier. “Here in the Capitol, we have discipline, order.”

“Let me go,” you shout, lunging yourself at him. You attempt to tackle him and grab the key from his neck. Unleashing a sigh of annoyance, Coriolanus seizes your wrist and twists it with hardly any effort. The sickening sound of bones snapping lands in your ears. He throws you on the floor, kicking your side for good measure. You keel over the tiles, cradling your throbbing wrist against your chest.

Coriolanus shakes his head as he considers your curling frame on the floor.

“Look what you’re making me do, sweet bird. As I’ve said, your uncouth District wench ways will not stand here. You’re going to behave…” He hunkers down before whispering, “Unless you never want to see your cousin again.”

Your head snaps up, tears filling your eyes.

“She needs me. Coriolanus, please-”

“She will be cared for. There’s a very nice orphanage south of the Capitol, one for all the children who lost their homes in the war.” He beams at you. “She’s being transported there as we speak.”

“Oh my god…”

“You want to see her again? It’s all up to you, birdie.” A slow, wicked smirk blooms on his lips. “...Or perhaps she would fare well as the District 8 tribute for the 11th Hunger Games. She may be a little young…but at least she’d increase viewership.”

“You can’t do that,” you protest, your lip quaking as tears skip over your cheeks.

A dark chuckle leaves him.

“I can and I will. You see, birdie, the world isn’t fair.” He cocks his head. “No one cares about innocent children dying. Hell, I was kicked, beaten and starved so many times during the war, I lost count. No one cared.” His blue eyes turn icier as they meet yours. “The world…it’s an arena. You’re either a predator, or you’re prey.” He lifts his hand to cup your cheek. A gesture that’d be almost tender if the words spilling from his mouth weren’t so cruel. “It’s best to just embrace your role.”

He caresses your tear-stained cheek.

“So will you be my sweet, obedient girl?”

As you sink in his empty blue gaze, a sense of defeat cloaks your frame. You come to realize, you were never meant to come out unscathed from meeting Coriolanus Snow, never meant to win. The fire in his eyes is the kind that burns all standing in its path.

There is no getting away. If you survived him, you’d be lucky.

Your chin trembles as you reply meekly, “Y-Yes, Coriolanus.”

His lips brush over yours before he gets to his feet, satisfaction glowing on his handsome features.

“Wonderful. I can’t wait for you to meet everyone, birdie.”

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #tbosas fanfiction #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

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cyn-write · 4 months

Text

"Her Smoldering Eyes Still Scorch My Soul"

Summary: Rollo has been eyeing you since your arrival, seeing you as the diamond amongst coals. At the Ball, he corners you into a dance, but your BF is not going to let this slide...

Pairings: Rook, Epel, Silver, and Sebek x F!Reader (separate) For Azul, Idia, and Malleus' part

For Riddle, Deuce, Ruggie, and Jamil's

For Rollo's Warnings: Possessive behavior, suggestive, manipulation (Rollo), obsession (Rollo), established relationships, romantic, fluff ~

Note: This is the last part FINALLY!!! I have been working on this for a while and am excited to move on to new projects! Any suggestions, please let me know!!

Prologue

"Who might you be miss?"

Y/n gave a kind smile and nodded her head in greeting "I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you," she stayed next to Trein as she was there as his assistant.

"Yuu is our magicless perfect of Ramshackle. She will be working as my assistant throughout the trip," Trein added.

She felt Rollo's eyes scan her, and, unlike his greetings to the rest, he held out a hand. Being poilet, she offered her hand as well, and he lifted it to his lips, grazing her knuckles quickly.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, y/n. I understand it must be difficult, being surrounded by mages every second of the day. I hope you get a chance to relax this trip." Y/n blushed at the motion and bit her lower lip. All the while she could feel her boyfriend glaring daggers into her and Rollo.

"I-I'll do my best..." Y/n replied. Throughout the entire trip, Rollo seemed to gravitate towards y/n and used every excuse to isolate her from the group. They chatted about her difficulties at NRC and of the festival. Due to her being Trein's assistant and the constant reminders to behave, she and her boyfriend had little time together.

This all accumulated at the Masquerade. Rollo had given Y/n a proper dress for the occasion instead of the attire his counsel had chosen. The (color) fabric decadently adorned your figure and stunned the NRC boys with its beauty. But before her boyfriend could ask for a dance, Rollo stole y/n away. He whisked her to the dance floor, and they started chatting.

At this point, Y/N's boyfriend has had enough of the student counsel president, but what sent him over the edge is when he takes you to the balcony and dare suggest the worst:

"Y/n, stay here with me." Y/n turned quickly on her heels to Rollo in confusion, "The fools at NRC do not deserve your purity. You belong here. with me." He has her pinned against the balcony, "This is your sanctuary."

Y/n pushed Rollo away slightly and spoke up, "Thank you for the offer, but I have not intention of leaving NRC. It is difficult at times but I wouldn't have it any other way. Now if you excuse me, I want to go back to the ball."

Rollo grabbed y/n's wrist and pulled her against him. "It's because of Draconia, isn't it? He has bewitched you!" He pinned her between the balcony wall and him. "Those fiends have enchanted you, but I will free you from those chains and show you salvation! No matter the cost!"

Rook Hunt

An Arrow landed right in between Rollo's middle and index finger splayed on the wall.

Rollo turned to see Rook with his bow still aimed at him.

"What is the-"

"Step away from Mon Ange."

Ever the observant Hunter, he could tell Rollo was attracted to his dearest as many were. He trusted y/n to take care of most of them. She was quietly capable, and he knew she preferred to fight some battles alone, but this crossed a line.

It only took a few strides to close the distance between them. Rook, being the gentleman he was, gently pulled y/n out from under Rollo's grip. He pulled her behind him and stood tall against the Student Council President.

"Hunt. What is the meaning of this? The perfect and I were having a conversation and you shoot at me?!" Rollo's tone begins to lose his composure. "You will pay for this!"

"Not if you want the entirety of Nobel Bell to learn their esteemed president is a pervert." Rook held up his phone and a video of the previous events started playing. Along with that he scrolled and displayed photos of Rollo looking at y/n's behind and chest, being aggressive towards her, and pinning her against the wall.

Rollo quieted and stared at Rook in rage, "You wouldn't dare."

"Oh I would, and the first person to see this would be the Dean of Nobel Bell and Professor Trien. Permanently ruining your reputation and the friendship between the schools." Rook took a step closer and held his thumb over the 'send' button. "And you wouldn't want that would you?"

Y/n looked at her loving hunter in shock. This was a side of Rook you were never privy to and it was terrifying. Rollo closed his agape mouth and stepped back. He bowed to the couple and retreated "Enjoy the ball, Mages." he spatted.

The moment Rollo left Rook turned to his Mon Ange and cupped her face with his soft gloved hands. "Mon Amour, are you alright?" he was so gentle with her.

Her emotions started to flood her senses as tears spilled from her eyes. She nodded and smiled, "Now that you're here I am," she brought her hands to his shoulder and he pulled her into a hug.

"Mon Amour, you're safe now. Non will dare hurt you as I stand by your side." He patted her head and kissed her cheek and forehead and anywhere he could get his lips before he finally placed them on her lips.

She smiled and let out a soft cry, "I know, I know."

"Ma Princesse, your chevalier dans une armure brillante will never leave your side again." He held her close as she cried.

Eventually, a new song began and he stepped back. Rook had an idea to make her feel better. He kneeled in front of her and clasped her hands in his, "Mon Ange, will you honor a humble chevalier with a dance?"

Y/n nodded and smiled at her brilliant hunter, "Of course, Mon chevalier!"

Epel Fulimer

"YOU GET YUR HANDS OFF HER!" Epel wasted no time, pulling Rollo off his apple-blossom. He stood in front of y/n and held out his magic pen to the predator. "YOU LAY A HAND ON HER AND ILL BUST YOUR BOTTOM THREE WAYS TA SUNDAY!"

Epel looked dashing in the moonlight. Despite the cuteness of his outfit, in the eyes of y/n he looked like a prince rescuing his love from an evil monster.

Rollo looked shocked at being thrown off the perfect by this little mage. He squinted his eyes then they widened when they realized it was one of the NRC freshmen.

"Fulimer. This doesn't concern you." He said pointedly, "Now go back to the ball and leave the perfect and I to our discussion."

"NO. YOU LISTEN TO ME." Epel said and squared up the older mage, "y/n told you NO. She clearly said she doesn't want to leave NRC. So unless you wanna go right here. right now. You leave MY Girl alone."

Rollo glared at the two and before he could say anything else he heard someone call his name from inside. He straightened up and looked past Epel at y/n, "Think about my offer y/n, we will discuss this matter later."

He turned and left the balcony. Leaving Epel and y/n alone in the cold night breeze. Epel watched Rollo leave then turned to hug his beloved close to his chest, "y/n, I am so sorry I didn't get here sooner. I couldn' find ya in the ballroom and people said Rollo took ya, and I thought the-"

She shut up his yapping by giving him a deep kiss on the lips. Epel pulled her closer, firmly gripping her waist and slipping a hand into her hair. The couple stayed like this for a long time before parting to breathe.

After regaining his breath, Epel said, "Wow... what was that for?"

Y/n smiled and placed her hands on either side of his face, her fingertips grazing his mask, "Isn't it traditional for the damsel to kiss her champion after a heroic rescue?"

Epel's smile turned mischievous, the way it always did when she complimented his masculinity. "Champion ya say? Well, Princess, do ya wanna go back to the ball or keep thanking me?"

Y/n giggled at the suggestive comment and said, "What do you have in mind?"

Epel leaned in close and whispered in a low voice teaming with desire, "I say we slip back to my room and-"

"Monsieur Cherry Apple! Madame trickster! There you are! I was looking all over for you!" Rook came out and Epel jumped back and grumbled at his senior's interruption. "The music is splendid! why don't you join me for a dance?"

He held open the door back into the ballroom open and gestured for them to come inside.

"We will be there in just a sec," Epel said and gave Rook a look of 'Please give me two more seconds'.

"Very Well, I will be waiting ~" Rook said and closed the door for a second.

"Well... looks like Rook decided for ya, but" He bowed to y/n and held out his hand, "Will you be this humble Champion's Princess tonight?

Silver

"I suggest you let the lady go." Silver’s hand gripped Rollo’s shoulder, forcing the president to turn from y/n.

The expression on his face was stone, eyes filled with a fiery rage all aimed at the man who dared to lay a hand on his princess. Rollo was taken aback by the gaze, it it made y/n’s heart swell. The momentary shock of Silver’s iron grip allowed for y/n to slip away from her captor and into Silver’s arms. The partner change changed Silver’s tactic from offense to defense. He let go of Rollo’s shoulder, took y/n’s waist, held her close to his chest. He held out his magic pen like a sword and y/n felt as if she was on the cover of a Romance Book. From where she stood, Silver looked like a fairytale prince. He may be a man of few words, but his eyes could write a novel.

“As a retainer of Prince Malleus and a Knight of Briar Valley, I cannot overlook a man of your caliber harassing a lady.” He said, his voice steady yet commanding, “Especially MY Lady.”

Y/n felt the heat rise in her cheeks, that was the first time he ever referred to her as “his.” Due to his position, their relationship had to be kept secret from everyone but Malleus and Lilia. They never used labels even in private. There were times she felt as though they were just friends, but you understood his situation. Now he called her his and acted as her knight, her Prince Charming.

Rollo was shocked to say the least. He took a step back and said, “The perfect and I were just discussing some private matters. But we can continue our conversation later,” Rollo started to walk away but Silver held his pan to the small of his back.

Silver’s expression shifted from stone to threatening, he lowered his voice an octave and whispered into Rollo’s ear, “You will not speak to her again. If you do, I swear to the sevens you will have wished those fires consumed you.”

Rollo glanced back a Silver with a twinge of fear in his eyes before retreating back to the ballroom.

The moment Rollo left the balcony, Silver turned back to look at his dearest. For someone notorious for his stone expression, Silver was very expressive on the balcony. He looked at the perfect with concern. His eyebrows knit, lips slightly frowning, and eyes looking in her eyes with deep concern.

Without any words, the two lovers embraced under the stars. Silver pressed his lips to her temple and whispered, “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.”

Y/n looked up at her knight and smiled, “It’s okay…” she brushed her lips against his cheek and whispered with tears in her eyes, “y-you called me ‘your lady’… you’ve never called me your’s.”

Silver brushed back a stray hand of hair as he said, “I know I asked to… to keep us quiet, but after that, I think it best that I be selfish…” he kneeled before his beloved in the (f/c) dress, one hand clasping hers while the other laid over his heart. “Y/n, will you honor the selfish request of a knight and be my princess?”

Sebek Zigolt

"Let. Her. Go."

Rollo turned to face him and was surprised to see Sebek. The usually loud retainer spoke in an even tone, barely above a sage whisper. His magic pen was drawn and pointing at directly at Rollo’s head.

He did not yell, but his rage was oozing out of every creases of his being. The fear in y/n’s eyes when Rollo pinned her to the railing made a switch click inside the freshman. He had been looking for y/n for a while. Malleus suggested the two dance n’s relax, and Sebek was never one to deny his Prince’s request. But when he saw Rollo pulled the human on to the balcony, he knew something was up. He got to the balcony just in time to hear Rollo suggest the worse: the Human switching schools… HIS human. And worse off, when she said no, Rollo forced himself on her. He could not take this anymore.

Rollo stood between the human and him. The council resident looked the freshman up and down before simply stating, “Zigolt, what are you doing? The perfect and I are trying to have a private conversation.”

“You touch her again and I will not hesitate.” Sebek Said, he stepped forward and Rollo remained unmoving.

“And I suggest you leave us be.” Rollo dare place his arm around y/n’s waist, “If the professor’s heard a NRC student threaten the Host of this event, the relations between our schools would be ruined, so I suggest you leave us be. She and I still have much to discuss-“

“You let go of her or I will-“

“Will what? Ruin the name of you dear prince and university over a human woman? I thought human’s meant nothing to fea like you-“

“The discussion is over. Flamme.” Malleus appeared behind Sebek with Silver by his side.

Sebek looked back to his Prince and his brother in arms and they could see the rage and disparation on his face. Malleus smiled at Sebek and said, “Sebek, take the child of man to the dace floor, it is simply criminal that a young couple not dance at a ball.”

Sebek understood the hidden meaning behind the words, ‘take y/n out of here.’

He strode over to y/n as she shimmed out of Rollo’s grip. In a rush, y/n and Sebek embraced upon meeting and he took her hand in his before leading his human away from the scene. Silver nodded to Sebek as they passed, releasing him of his duties for the night. Once away, the couple stopped in an alcove and Sebek embraced his human tightly.

“Y/n forgive me,” He said with his emotions finally spilling over, “I have been an inattentive lover and did nothing when Rollo had you… I’m so useless-“

“Don’t say that.” Y/n placed her hands on either side of Sebek's face. She looked him in the eyes and saw the disappointment. He was so upset with himself for what happened. Despite his rough facade, he put a lot of responsibility on himself, and if he did not live up to those impossible standards, he punished himself. "You saved me Sebek, so can we leave that behind us and go to the ball?"

Sebek allowed a small smile to grace his lips. He leaned his forehead against her's, "Oh course... I want nothing more than to be with you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Note: Please Like, Reblog, and Follow for more! If you are interested in seeing an NSFW part 2 or want to see more characters in this scenario, please let me know! (Do not Steal)

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tikkunolamresistance · 1 month

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Anti-Zionism & Purim:

Purim is a wonderfully joyous, often colourful and very tasty, Jewish holiday celebrated every year on the 14th of the Hebrew month of Adar (which corresponds to late winter/early spring). A holiday where drinking is a mitzvah, some dress up as characters from the Book of Esther, we gift good food and most definitely argue about which hamantaschen filling is best. Purim is about Jewish joy, resistance and outliving those who wish for our destruction.

Purim starts the evening of Saturday 23rd March, and ends at sundown the following day, Sunday 24th.

What’s the Purim story?

It is a story of salvation, of Jewish survival and being against all odds. The story of Purim comes from the salvation of the Jewish from Haman’s plot “to destroy, kill and annihilate all the Jews, young and old, infants and women, in a single day”. Haman, or Haman the Agagite, was a royal vizier in the court of the Persian empire, to King Ahasuerus/Xerxes I (465 BCE) who was agrivated by Moredcai, of the tribe Benjamin, and his refusal to bow down to his demands— thus Haman seeked revenge on his rejection and convinces the King to issue a decree to kill all Jews in the Persian empire. However the genocidal plot would soon be thearted by Hadassah, or as we know her, Queen Esther.

Queen Esther was an incredible Jewish woman whom the King Ahasuerus (transliteration of Xerxes) had fallen in love with. The Queen revealed her Jewish identity and pleaded with the King to spare her people, to which then, the King was appalled by Haman’s treachery— ordering his execution and granting Jews permission to defeat their enemies.

This story is apart of the Five Melligot (Melligah meaning “scroll” in Hebrew), the Book of Esther.

How is Purim celebrated?

Celebrating Purim depends on minhagim (customs) amongst Jewish cultural and ethnic communities: Ashkenazim may celebrate differently from Sefardim, who celebrate different from Middle Eastern, North African, South Asian and Ethiopian Jewry!

However, these are some universal rituals:

• Listen to the Purim story, the Book of Esther, typically at a Synagogue.

• Eating good for Seudah, a meal had during the day of Purim. Including foods such as pomegranate and wine brisket, hamantaschen, boyosa, challah with various toppings, rugelach, onion and poppy seed rings, hojuelas, kreplach, pickled vegetables and so much more.

• Mishloach Manot, gifting food to friends and/or family.

• Tzedakah, charity, and Metanot L’evyonim, supporting those in need.

• Haka’at Haman: during Megillah reading, there is a custom to make noise at the reading of Haman’s name. From stomping your feet to booing, this minhag is associated with Jewry of France and Provence, though has roots in Talmudic sources. You can read more here.

• Drinking lots of wine!

If you have any specific cultural Purim traditions, leave a comment! Traditions vary from family, to minhag, to cultures!

So, what do we learn from the story of Queen Esther?

Where our Rabbis may dress as Queen Esther, and we get drunk because it’s might be your favourite mitzvah, where we stick to tradition and try a new hamantaschen filling, and hearing the megillah like it’s the first time, all over again. Purim is where we introspect through our celebration; the very expression of joy, against all odds, is where we seek our growth. We exercise our liberty, our bravery and boldness— like Esther, we do not hide our Jewishness, instead we decorate ourselves. We do not stand in the face of adversity and let it through, we crush it and celebrate our resilience. Purim is a reminder of pride, of resistance and using your voice for those who may have theirs silenced. Like Queen Esther, we must not allow genocide and violence, and certainly not in our name as a people who have faught against it through out history. In honour of Purim, we must use what power we have to call for Tikkun Olam— a better future, for all.

Purim is where live to see ourselves dance and sing, the complete expression of G!d— HaShem, the Divine, the Universe, our collective human spirit— we live to build a future of many more Purims, many more celebrations of collective resistance. We dance and sing, and dress up, and drink, as is written, so that there is no world without this freedom.

Families often get creative in teaching their children, and communities, the importance of Purim, by making decorative masks to communicate the importance of identity, or dressing up in fun costumes inspired by strong characters, wether from the Purim story or just fictional worlds. Art is an incredible and important way to communicate, so if you want to get creative and make your own mask, costume or simply create artwork inspired by the story of Purim— tapping into your creative liberty is a wonderful ritual to add to your own traditions.

You can also show your gratitude to people, such as friends, family, service workers, activists, with gifts and letters to celebrate them and their bravery, their selflessness. Do you have anybody you’re greatful for, who’s inspired you to be more selfless, to give back?

What can I reflect on for Purim?

Think about how you show your Jewish pride, how you express your Jewish joy. Do you want to be more loud, more unapologetic, more open? How can you show up for others in need, who are in need for their voices to be uplifted? How can you do your part in building a future that celebrates total liberation from what tries to destroy us? Purim is about celebration, about joy, so as you join in on the festivities however you celebrate, remember that this full expression of your Jewish self is an act of resistance against a history of Jew hatred, a history of antisemitism, and that our existence will outlive the powers that pretend to be on our side.

How can I incorporate Palestine into my Purim celebrations?

Following traditions of donating and tzedekah, you can donate funds to GoFundMes of Palestinian families seeking refuge outside of Gaza, to ensure these families can make it to safety and eat well. We’ll be reposting and sharing GoFundMes and other calls for aid all day on Purim, if you’re looking to do some tzedekah.

As millions of Palestinians in Gaza are imminently facing starvation, you could aim to organise protests and rallies with your communities to demand action to be taken for immediate food distribution into Gaza. Be vocal on Purim, we’ll try to update you with any anti-Zionist events that may be happening across the world.

If you live near a Mosque/Masjid or Islamic community centre, you coulf drop off some Halal-safe food packages for Ramadan celebrations; sweets, pre-packaged/cooked foods and pastries. Your local Islamic food stores can definitely offer more guidance, and be sure to look out for the Halal logo! But, importantly, it’s always good to contact the Mosque or Community centre beforehand to see what donations they’re accepting!

If you’re visiting Shul, now more than ever is your time to challenge the narrative. Why must we turn away blind eye to a genocide whilst we celebrate our survival? Why must we allow the pain we have felt, pass to another, in the name of our survival? If you feel it is safe to do so, it is so irrevocably important to challenge the Zionist narratives that use our history, our holidays, our peoplehood to inflict harm that we once felt. As Queen Esther did, we must speak, and we must not be afraid to do so.

Further Purim readings:

The History of Purim

Laws and Customs of Purim

History of Purim costumes

We’re wishing everyone a happy, safe, healthy and beautiful Purim— please share with us how you’ll be celebrating this year, and keep an eye out for tzedekah posts to donate to Palestinians in need!

#purim #anti zionist jews #anti zionist purim #purim 2024 #purim ideas #purim celebrations #what is purim #free palestine #purim for anti zionist jews #jewish holidays #info: purim

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gretavanlace · 2 months

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Sugar II (part 8)

Jake Kizska x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: adult content, language, brief illusions to sex, angst, jealousy, etc.

Only two chapters to go and an epilogue, everyone. I’m so grateful that you have taken this little journey with me. Thank you so much for all your kind words, support, and care. You’re all so wonderful ❤️

“Oh my god, Jake,” your eyes are darting around the room like a mouse with a rabid alley cat slinking, famished and cruel, into its path.

Your unease trumps his delighted gloating instantly, “What do you want me to do, sugar? Tell me and I’ll do it.”

When you steal a glance at the window, longing to climb out and disappear, he hops on the train of your thought process right away, “You want me to duck out?”

You know Jake through and through, and staring into his eyes as your heart drums paranoid vibrations into your rib cage, you’re stunned to watch him offer to give up this chance to square off with whom he has come to see as his most bitter rival. That he would do that for you? That all you would have to do is ask and he would crawl out and wander off into the golden afternoon sunshine like an afterthought…

You really do own his whole heart, you realize at the most inopportune of moments. Your grip on his soul is just as tight as his fingers have always clawed down inside yours…fierce and beautiful in their unrelenting grip.

But haven’t you always known? Hasn’t it always been written across his skin? Etched in his gaze? Sculpted into the bow of his lips when he whispers your name? Evident in his touch?

“No,” you shake your head, willing the mess inside of it to go away, rejecting the thought of him leaving. You want him near, you need him near. To let him go right now, even for a second, seems an agonizing punishment that you cannot bear to suffer. No matter the consequences.

“Stay. But please…” you rush over to him, helping him to his feet while stealing glances at the doorway, “Please just behave and follow my lead, okay? Please?”

”Normally, I like it when you use your manners,” he sighs, smoothing out his clothes, as well as a lock of your hair that has fluttered out of place, “But that’s too many pleases and you look petrified. Why?” His voice is suddenly intense yet careful, as is his grip on your arm, “Does he hurt you?”

They idea is entirely laughable, but there’s no time for that, so you brush him off with a swipe of your hand and a flippant, “Don’t be stupid, Jake.”

Without allowing yourself to think it through, you begin ushering him down the hall towards the front room, but what will you find there? Doom or salvation?

How will these pieces fall together? Something solid and heavy in your heart tells you Jake will do as you have asked and play nice, but another facet buried even deeper inside is rocked with anxiety and screaming that it’s only wishful thinking to believe such a fairytale.

”Hey hon,” jovially rings out as he steps in through the garage, “I saw your car! We’re both home early? Looks like the universe knew how much I missed you!”

Jake turns to catch your eye as you shove him along, but you refuse to meet his gaze. You're unsure of what you’ll find there and this isn’t the time for uncertainties.

Would you find sadness threatening to roll hot tears down his cheeks? Anger threatening to boil over in his fiery chocolate irises? Accusation and resentment for what you’re about to subject him to?

Oh god, you can’t do this! Suddenly, and absurdly, you wish you could fade into the gentle, lush, green paint that you had once rolled upon the hallway walls, paying meticulous attention to detail. Build this home, had been the plan…bury him away under paint and sanded cabinets. Art perched on the walls and throw pillows piled on the bed.

You’d love to disappear and leave them perplexed and confused, wondering what became of you. To vanish into nothing like a dust mote blown away upon the lightest, softest breeze.

You’re a coward.

While your thoughts are busy with that, Jake’s are grappling with each other. Tangled up and struggling. He’d very much like to stomp into the front room and shut this man up. With his booming voice calling out how much he’s missed you like he has some claim over you. Like you’re his. Like he doesn’t understand that you could never really be anyone’s because you’re much too good for this whole goddamn world. That you’re precious, like the rarest of stones and anyone who is lucky enough to hold you in their palm should fall on their knees in thanks.

He sounds so fucking common. Does he think you’re common as well? Jake can’t stomach the thought.

So, yes, he’d like to stroll into the room, casual as you please, and announce that he is taking you away from this ridiculous illusion where you play house and pretend to be satisfied. He longs to tell him how he’s made love to you, how he’s fucked you. How you’ve begged for him and swore no one could ever be him. Jake wants to tell him that the ring he put on your finger has been in his mouth, that he spat it out and you didn’t even care. That you hardly even noticed. Jake would almost kill to watch Mr. Wonderful’s face crumple in defeat and loss…

But he loves you far too much, and to say all those things would hurt you, too.

Scar your heart he will not.

He’s shrugging off his suit blazer when you both appear. It’s a mundane action, one that repeats itself nearly every evening, but you stand still and shellshocked, unable to jolt yourself into some semblance of normalcy until Jake subtly nudges you with a ginger elbow.

“Hi,” you begin, a touch too loudly, “Yeah, you’re early! I actually didn’t end up going to work today. Old friend in town. We went to the movies. And then we came here. He wanted to see the house. I…I told him about it. I was just giving him the tour.”

You sound robotic and ridiculous, but he doesn’t appear to notice. Rather, he looks delighted when his eyes land on Jake and recognition settles in.

”Ah, I know you!” He laughs, marching forward with an outstretched hand. “The almost brother in law. Good to finally meet you.”

His grasp on Jake’s hand is strong and sure as he pumps it up and down. The genuine gladness in his gesture makes you want to tear your own hair out in penance.

Or is it the ‘almost brother in law’ moniker that has made you nauseous?

Yes, that’s what you boiled Jacob down to. You had held nothing back about your relationship with Josh…but Jake? You just couldn’t. To speak of him, to share him that way…it had seemed incomprehensible. And how could you ever put it into words, anyway? How could anyone ever understand what he was to you? What he is to you? No, it had seemed best to keep him locked away, silent and safe in your memories. Tucked away in your heart. The boy in the bubble.

Jake’s face is unreadable as he sizes up this opponent before him. This rival who has just unknowingly stepped into the ring. This blissfully unaware adversary. He is a doe who has wandered idly into the path of a dangerously ravenous mountain lion, and he doesn’t even know it. Ignorance really does seem like bliss in this moment, and you long for it.

“Yes, the almost brother in law,” his tone is slightly clipped, but no one, aside from you - and perhaps his brothers - would ever notice. “That’s me. And you are?”

Here we go. He’s going to love this.

They drop hands and a friendly clap lands on Jake’s shoulder. “I’m Jake, too. What are the odds?”

A sharp, satisfied laugh bursts out of Jake, head tipped back, adam’s apple bobbing gleefully, and you long to tell the smug bastard to just shut the hell up, but it’s over quickly enough.

”Yes,” he sighs, with a shake of his head that ends in his eyes blazing holes into your soul, “What are the odds?”

”’Course this one over here calls me by my middle name, James. Says it fits me. No one else does, though, so choice is yours. Man, it’s so great to finally meet you.” He’s prattling on now, never having met a stranger, “You know we’ve got all your work over there in the case. You’re a hell of a guitar player. I tried to learn in high school, mostly to impress girls…never could get it. Anyway…”

Jake is eyeing him like he doesn’t know what to make of this man standing there, cordial and warm, tossing out compliments and bids for conversation.

His eyes are traveling over this unfamiliar being, now so tangible and real, who has had his hands all over you. Who has had his mouth pressed to your precious body, who has whispered against your skin, who has made love to you in the still of the night, and held you, and rested beside you, breathing in tandem. Who has gotten down on one knee and asked you to be his wife.

And you said yes...you said yes.

He wants to hurt him. Both physically and emotionally. He wants to level him. To crush him into nothing. And though this Jake, James, or whatever his name is, isn’t to blame, he wants it all the same. He wishes he could lure him into his palm like a revolting insect and squeeze until he was no more than something vile to be wiped away with a Kleenex.

Instead, he tilts his head in the direction of the vinyls and shrugs off the accolades, “Fuckin’ Zeppelin cover band.”

James laughs uproariously and gestures into the room welcomingly, “Why are we all standing around like this? Have a seat…please. Make yourself at home. Can I get you something to drink? Water? A beer? Whiskey? I know it’s early, but special occasions call for special circumstances, I always say.”

Eyes on you, he shrugs out a response that would be lost on anybody but you, “I’ll have what you’re having.”

Once you’re alone for a moment, he shakes his head with a gorgeous, if not self-satisfied, smirk sparking to life upon his face. “His name is Jake? Oh, sugar…” he’s laughing softly now, and sinking down into the cushions of the couch, “creature of habit, aren’t you, pretty girl?”

”Shut up!” You hiss, eyes flickering towards the kitchen doorway, “Coincidence. That’s all. Don’t be so fucking full of yourself. Now, please just be nice.”

He quiets down, drawing the back of his forefinger beneath his eye dramatically as if he has laughed himself to tears, “I’m being very nice and you know it. Don’t push it.”

You sit, as far away from him as the couch will allow, but instantly he’s leaned in close. “What do you think he would do if I got down on my knees right here and buried my face in that gorgeous little cunt of yours? Showed him how it’s really done.”

”Jacob!” You barely make a sound as you admonish him with a clipped shove to settle him.

He slinks back into his seat with another laughing shake of his head, “This is perfect.”

”I hate you.” You lie.

”Sure you do, sugar,” he winks, crossing his legs to get comfy, “Sure you do. Almost brother in law, huh? Is that what I’ve been reduced to?”

He’s still chuckling quietly to himself while a strange mix of panic and tears begins to churn around inside of you like a slow moving summer storm. He’s gearing up, you can feel it, and the thought of it all is too much, your metaphorical knees are beginning to shake. This could end so, so badly.

“Later, Jake…” you’re beseeching without shame, pleading with your watery gaze. “We’ll talk about it later. Please just stop.”

His palm cradles your cheek so softly you wonder if anyone has ever touched someone as gently as he touches you, “Settle down, baby. I won’t make trouble for you.”

How laughable that he can’t seem to recognize that you’ve brought this trouble on all by yourself. No help needed.

He has moved to create a respectable distance between the two of you by the time James is sweeping back into the room bearing a tray flush with drinks and snacks.

”Here, sweetie,” he drops a kiss upon the top of your head, presenting a glass. “Made you a mimosa…I know you like to keep it light through the week.”

You somehow manage a thank you and sip at the sweet, bubbly mix, praying it calms your frayed nerves.

”For us,” he extends the tray and you watch as Jake plucks a low ball glass from it, “bourbon. Unless you’d rather browse the bar. Plenty to choose from.”

”Bourbon is fantastic,” Jake nips at his glass. “Thank you.”

There is a palpable disdain hovering around Jake like a murky aura, but there is heartbreak there too. Aching and black. Heavy and weighing down the light that normally follows him around like a strange shadow…and you’d give anything to take it away.

For just a breath, you intend to do just that. To rise to your feet and stomp all over James’ open, trusting heart. To tell him the truth. To tell him you’re leaving. You nearly take Jake by the hand and drag him towards the door and leave everything else behind without explanation…simply to end his suffering.

Your lips nearly part to say the words when you’re cut off.

“Oh. I almost forgot,” James leans forward in his chair and grabs for your hand, absently running his thumb against your own, “Erin called. She said you guys had a great time the other day, said you’d planned something for this weekend? Wedding planning?”

Erin. His sister. You’ve grown close but it wouldn’t hurt to leave her behind. It wouldn’t even sting…not for Jake.

You squeeze his hand with a tiny smile and fight rolling nausea at the mere mention of the wedding in Jake’s presence. From the corner of your eye, you watch him tense, but he recovers quickly and drains his glass to the dredges in one pull.

”Well,” suddenly, he’s on his feet. “I’ve taken enough of your time today. It was good to see you.” His eyes are unreadable and shift quickly away from your own. “James, good to meet you and thank you for the hospitality.”

”Don’t run off on my account,” James is on his feet now as well, “We’d love to have you stay for dinner. I make a mean chicken Kiev, and…”

”No,” Jake interrupts, gaze jumping towards the door as if he can’t get away fast enough. “I’ve got a flight to catch in just a few hours, need to head back…you know how it goes.”

He sounds ineloquent and so unlike himself… and you can feel it - his heartbreak - in your bones as though you’ve crawled inside his body and curled up beside it like a clinging lover.

“Jake,” you can’t seem to move from your seat, your body uncooperative and rebellious, “Your car is still at the theater, let me drive you…”

”Drive me?” He is staring at you, white hot and desperate…the mask is finally slipping. He has played pretend all he can for the day. “And then what?”

”And then…” again, you are a coward. A fucking coward. “I don’t know. What do you mean, and then?”

The room is silent for a beat - with words unspoken crashing into the space between yourself and Jake, and James struggling to understand this strange exchange.

With the slightest nod of his head, Jacob silently encourages you. Urges you. Come with me, sugar…it seems to say, come home.

But still you sit, frozen and paralyzed. A horrified doe staring down the hunter’s muzzle.

Another nod, clipped and more obvious this time, responds to your inaction. “I’ll walk. Again, thank you for having me.”

The door closes behind him in a blink, and he is gone. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve imagined him completely…

Looking down at your shaking hands in your lap, you realize you never even made it to your feet. You sat, unmoving, and watched him go.

Hours later, you’re standing outside an unfamiliar door, anxiously clutching at the straps of the bag tossed over your shoulder.

And when that unfamiliar door swings open, your heart unclenches, for there he stands. Showered, smelling of soap and warmth, hair curled into dampened, loose ringlets, beat to hell jeans riding low on his hips.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” he smirks, leaning against the doorframe. “If it isn’t Mrs. Wonderful…”

“Hi,” it comes out meek and small, but flush full of the comfort that is being near him.

”How’d you find me?” His arms cross loosely, with a faded smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

”Were you hiding?” Why hasn’t he turned to lead you in?

”From you, pretty girl?” He scoffs as if the very idea is preposterous. “Never.”

Yet, on he stands as though barring your entrance…as though he intends to send you on your way any moment.

”I called Josh,” you offer, wringing at your bag’s handles idly, simply for something to do with your hands. “He told me where you were staying.” Your gaze skitters over the house. “It’s nice. Cozy.”

He nods, “Airbnb. You mentioned something about us always being in hotels, before. I thought, if there was a chance I’d be hosting you, you might like something a little more…domestic. Though, I see now that you have plenty of that going for you already, right? Domesticity?”

“Do I deserve that?”

His shoulders hunch inwardly slightly, he knows you’re right, and he knows he’s being a bit of an asshole as well. “No, I suppose you don’t.”

”Are you going to invite me in? I feel a little stupid standing out here.” Vulnerability seems of such insignificance when it is Jacob in question. He knows your bare soul so well anyway.

Still, he allows you to dangle on his string, twisting languidly in the soft, evening breeze. “Why’d you call Josh to find me? Why not just call me? Missing my better half now that you’ve had a bit of fun with me?”

Now there’s a slight irritation traipsing along your nerves, and damned if you’re going to mask it. “Alright, either let me in or tell me to go to hell. I’m not going to beg for your good graces.”

”Are you coming in to stay? Or are you here to say goodbye? Because my heart has had enough for one day.”

”Oh, fuck off, Jacob.” You huff, pushing past him into the house. You slump your bag off your shoulder and onto the floor and then turn on him. “Sorry to have interrupted your pity party, but what did you think was going to happen today? Did you think it was going to be spectacular and wonderful to walk around in the life that I live with someone else? You practically fucked me in the bedroom I share with him. You lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree when you realized he was home. You wanted this, and you know what I think your problem is? I think you liked him.”

”Fuck you!” He slams the door closed and looks you over like you’ve lost your mind entirely. “You think I liked him? I couldn’t give a fuck less about him. He made my skin crawl. Do you know what it was like for me to watch him touch you? The way he looked at you…”

He falls silent and suddenly refuses to meet your eyes, and your heart breaks right alongside his.

Tentatively, you reach out and rest your palm against his cheek, “The way he looked at me doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. It never really has.”

His hand floats up to meet yours, “He looked at you with so much love. Like he would give you the entire world. It made me feel not good enough. It made me feel like I should leave and let it be. Like I was wrong for showing up and rattling your whole life around.”

You’re backing him up against the door now, his gorgeous, stricken face held fast in your sure and gentle hands. “Not good enough? You? Oh, Jakey…” you pet at his face worshipfully, “We have a garden, remember? And you help me harvest, and I know you feed me those tiny tomatoes I like. You know? The little yellow ones? And they’re all gone before we even get inside.”

He’s nodding along as you pepper kisses upon his cheeks and forehead.

“And we have a porch swing, and a piano, and beautiful babies, and a cat…and you sing to us, and love us hard every single minute of every single day. And you make us so, so happy. And I wake up every morning with a smile on my face because I packed this stupid bag,” your foot darts out and kicks it, “and shoved my way inside when you refused to invite me in.”

”Don't say things you don’t mean, sugar…” his hands are in your hair now, guiding your mouth to his own so that he can lick inside it. He needs to taste you - needs to feel the silken velvet of your tongue, “I can’t take it, baby.”

You’re breathing each other's breath, lips like feathers dancing together soft and sweet, holding on to one another as if you might both just vanish into nothing in an instant, “I mean it, Jake…” you promise, “I mean it. You are everything,”

You can almost hear the pounding of his heart as the heat of his need begins to radiate and warm you, “Because I can’t stand the thought of leaving, of thinking you’ll follow, only for you to change your mind. It would kill me, sugar. So, please don’t say these things to me if you—“

You silence him with a deep, feverish kiss and then break away, forehead to forehead, “I’m not following later. I’m coming with you. This is where I am now…with you.”

Tears well in his eyes and spill over, hot and saline, as you lick and kiss them away. “I love you, pretty girl…” it chokes out of him, rasping as he swallows thickly, “I love you so fucking much. I’ve imagined this moment in so many different ways, but it was never as perfect as this. Tell me you know how much I love you.”

”I know, and I—“ it is he who interrupts with a desperate kiss this time.

And you know that later he will ask, and when he asks you will tell him what was said back at that house that broke his heart in two - how you ended things with the one who really never mattered at all…

…but for now all that matters is the taste of him on your lips. His air-drying hair looped through your searching fingers. Your hearts and lungs syncing, with his tears like brackish diamonds in your stomach because you have finally swallowed his sorrow and unburdened him from it.

He seems lighter in your arms already…closer now to the sun than he had ever been to the moon before.

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brenbofen · 7 months

Note

GAASPPP OMGGG VINCE I JUST GOT AN IDEA OH GOD

priest+exorcist reader x demon dottore holy FUCK ive always had a thing for sacrilege... religious corruption and shit like that... fallen to worship you instead, to open his eyes to the one true god, one who owns him, one who would give him salvation, one who graces him with blessing though he has ugly horns and tattered, blackened wings, one who will love him as supposed to the father above, one who would send him into eternal bliss

make him bite onto your rosary while you fuck him full, kiss on his horns, his scars and mumble sweet nothings like a prayer,, or call him things that sends shivers down his spine, make him claw at your skin while u punish him for his blasphemy, for his heresy... make a demon like him, violent and mad, into nothing but a slut for ur cock that will bring him into a realm of pleasure, something he deems as heaven...

basically taming this dangerous blood thirsty demon by fucking him to oblivion while being a the kind hearted priest u are 😇

oh god is this good for the monster theme??? I THINK I GOT CARRIED AWAY MY BAD... anyways take your time and have fun!!!

⤷ Sweet Words ✝︎ AMAB Preist Reader x Demon Dottore > Monster Luvrs Event

Vincent’s ramblings ଳ i couldnt hold myself back and am posting tbis a day early, im sorry guys 😞😞 also got a bit excited while writing this lawll

Featuring; Religious themes, degradation and praise, body worship, reader gets a little mean, spanking mentioned, belly bulge, multiple orgasms, slight p.rn with feelings??, biting and scratching, petnames (love, my love, baby), cumflation, Let me know if I missed anything!!

You always noticed a particular individual in the back of your church. Every sermon he’d watch you, whenever you’d look away you could feel his gaze burning through you. However, he never seemed to care for what you said. When the choir would sing or church goers would gather for a group prayer, he’d stay seated in his little corner, never moving until your sermon was over.

You had also began to receive an influx of reports about demons. More than enough times would you find yourself within the residents of your small village’s homes, searching for a demon that always seemed to evade you. No matter where you went or how early you were informed of the demon it always moved on to another location by the time you arrived. It was frustrating.

Currently you were in your office reading through documents and signing paperwork, tiredness clawing at your mind. You sighed, gently setting down your quill and resting your chin against the palm of your hand. Work was beginning to impede on your sleep. You would spend long nights searching for that demon, then you’d return to your office to count donations and send off documents, tonight you finally got a break, only a small stack of paperwork to go through then you could rest.

You were so out of it you almost missed the knock on your office door. Quickly you stood from your chair, smoothing out any wrinkles on your clothing as you called out for “Just a moment.” Upon opening the door you were stunned, it was the man in the back of the church!

He wore a bird like mask that covered the top half of his face, you noted the only thing not hidden was the bright blue hair framing his face. He gave you a meek smile, bowing his head slightly. “I apologize for disturbing you at this hour.” He spoke softly, barely parting his lips as he did so. You waved him off, telling him it didn’t bother you and stepping aside to let him in.

He nervously walked into your office, looking around before settling on a chair you motioned to. “Please, take a seat.” You sat in the chair across from him, you saw how the man sat awkwardly, almost as if something were preventing him from sitting comfortably. “I can’t thank you enough for letting me in.” He folded his hands neatly in his lap, tugging on the fabric of his gloves. There was this odd giddiness in his voice as he spoke, a sickly sweet smile on his face as if he were trying to contain his excitement.

You nodded, asking him why exactly he came, the hours for confessions and personal prayers were over. He frowned slightly, tilting his head to the side.

“I wished to… see you.”

You laughed nervously, running a hand through your hair as you leaned into your seat. “I’m sorry?” You were confused, why would he not wait for when you weren’t working? The man shifted in his seat, hands gently curling around his hood. You bit your tongue as he pulled the hood down, revealing curving horns that sprouted from his head.

He was a demon. He was the demon you had been searching for.

You immediately shot up from your seat and stumbled over to your desk while keeping your gaze on the demon, your hand slid across your desk as you searched for something, anything, to protect you from the creature before you. He pulled his mask off, bright red eyes almost appearing sad as he moved closer to you. “Please don’t be afraid, I mean you no harm.” You had your back pressed against your desk as the demon’s gloved hand gently, so, so gently, grabbed your wrist. “What do you mean you ‘mean me no harm’? You’ve destroyed homes! You’ve killed people damn it!” The demon sighed, lips parted just enough to show you his sharp teeth.

He was so close to you. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, his breath hitting against your neck as he leaned even closer. “I know I’ve done those things… but I only wished to grab your attention.” He brought his other hand to your hip, holding you in place. “I just was too afraid to face you when you’d come looking for me.” The demon pulled back to look you in the eyes, both hands now resting on your hips.

“So what do you want… uh—”

“Dottore.”

“—Dottore?”

The demon— Dottore smiled at you, releasing a soft sigh. “I’ve seen you with the church goers. You’re so kind to them, helping them with mundane things, giving them advice and even resources.” Dottore tilted his head to the side in thought, “So much kinder than any god may be… I know it may be foolish but, I hoped you could share a bit of that kindness with me?” You looked at Dottore like he was mad, a demon asking for kindness from a preist? He really was foolish.

But, you didn’t want to turn him away.

If you did, it might mean he would return to terrorizing your village. You brought your hands to the clasp of his cloak, “Very well. You may stay here while I figure out what to do with you.” You removed Dottore’s cloak, watching as his dark wings fanned out, fluttering slightly from his giddiness. He gave you such a big grin, burying his face into your neck as he spoke soft thank yous like a mantra. Such an odd creature he was.

No one could fault you for wanting to have a bit of fun with him, right?

You now had Dottore nude as he leaned against your desk, your hands trailing up his body, his clothing discarded somewhere in uour office. He had been staying with you for a few weeks now, and you couldn’t help yourself from playing with a pretty thing like him. He would’ve never thought the sweet preist of a church in a small village would have such dirty fantasies. He bit back any teasing remarks as you buried your face into his neck, he wouldn’t want to make you upset. Not now, not while you were being so sweet to him.

You pulled your hands from Dottore and smiled at him, squeezing his sides before taking a step back. “Turn around for me, love.” Dottore did just as you asked, shivering when your chest pressed against his back. You were able to slide your fingers into Dottore easily, chuckling when you heard him bite back a whine. “No one’s here but us, you can be as loud as you want my love~” Dottore nodded, groaning as your fingers slid in and out of his hole. You wondered if he was still stretched out from the previous night or if he had a bit of fun without you.

Dottore’s wings fanned out around you as you dug the pads of your fingers into his sweet spot, a loud moan spilling from his lips. You basically had all of Dottore’s body memorized, able to make him feel pure bliss anytime you were alone with him. He adored how you’d kiss his scars, telling him how he was such a lovely thing as you’d slowly finger him. The way you’d laugh in his ear at his moans and whines, teasing him for how easily he’d melt in your hands. But he loved how easily you’d switch from being sweet to mean.

Anytime you’d harshly slap Dottore’s ass, saying such degrading words to him as you rammed your fat cock into his tight hole, it was heavenly. Dottore would always have his head thrown back, desperately clawing at anything he could get his hands on as you’d pump load after load into his greedy hole. The way you’d laugh in his face when he cried after you pulled out to watch your cum spill out of his puffy hold, clicking your tongue at his pleas for you to keep fucking him and fill him back up. Oh, and how once you finished you’d kiss his marred face gently, praising him for being so good to you before cleaning him up.

He loved you, so, so much. Could you blame him for worshiping you and your body like a god? You surely didn’t mind.

Dottore was ripped from his thoughts by you pressing your fingers basically knuckle deep into him, crying out as you made scissoring motions inside of him. Dottore didn’t even notice the drool beginning to spill from his open mouth, desperately squeezing his eyes shut as you drove him to his first orgasm of the night. He heard you gasp slightly, Dottore whimpering as you pulled your fingers out. “You’re so sensitive today, how cute~” You squeezed Dottore’s ass then took a step back, admiring the demon bent over your desk.

Dottore could hear you unbuckling your belt, wings fluttering as excitement bubbled in his chest. You always thought it was adorable how his wings would flap when he was excited. You stepped forward once you pulled our pants and underwear down, rocking your hips and sliding your dick against Dottore’s ass. He whined at the feeling of your length dragging against his skin, pressing his face against your desk.

Dottore mumbled your name softly, so quiet you almost didn’t hear him. “Please turn me around, I-I want to see you.” You laughed at Dottore’s request but did as he asked, turning him around so he was now straddling your hips. You reached up and wiped the drool on his chin, smiling when Dottore leaned into your touch. “You ready?” You repositioned yourself so the tip of your cock was pushing against Dottore’s entrance, chuckling at his flushed face as he nodded, gaze trained on your throbbing dick.

You pushed your hips forward, Dottore biting down on his lip as you shoved your length inside of him. You were so big for a human, your sheer size and how wide you stretched him out making Dottore’s mind feel fuzzy. There was a constant flow of praise from Dottore as you pushed yourself deeper into him, slight tears beading in his eyes from the stretch. No matter how many times he took you he could never get used to your size. He didn’t mind though, a part of him loved the pain.

Once you were fully sheathed inside of Dottore you pressed a hand to his stomach, pressing against the bump in his tummy, laughing at the whine he let out. “It’s me~” You cooed, Dottore rolling his eyes, both of you knew this attitude was just a little ruse he put on at least try and protect his ego before he would go an moan like a bitch in heat on your dick.

Gently, you began to thrust in and out of Dottore, giving him a moment to adjust to your movements. Though, it wasn’t long before Dottore would be begging for you to move faster and you could never hold yourself back for long when you’d see Dottore’s pretty face, expression showing nothing but pure bliss.

You leaned forward and roughly kissed Dottore, something to distract him as you picked up the pace of your thrusts. He groaned against your lips, clawed hands finding home in your hair as you pushed your tongue past his lips. Dottore moaned as you pulled away, feeling you do a particularly hard thrust into him. “You’re clenching so tight around me, mhmm.” You trailed your hands up Dottore’s torso as you spoke. Dottore nodded nodding, only able to focus on the feeling of your cock forcing his body to make room for it.

It was funny, you, the sweet priest having a deadly demon that caused havoc throughout your little village only weeks later becoming your sweet cock-slut.

You pushed Dottore’s hair from his face and kissed the base of his horns, Dottore humming as he leaned against you. He was so clingy, always craving your touch. It would be cute, if not for the snarky remarks he’d say once he was satisfied with your attention. Dottore’s claws raked down your neck and settled onto your back, nails digging into your shirt.

You rested your chin on Dottore’s shoulder, the man shivering when your breath hit his ear. “Careful not to tear my clothes, I have a meeting later.” Dottore nodded, grip loosening just barely. You squeezed Dottore’s hips, grinding against him, pulling little whines from him. You did this for a bit, Dottore about to snap at you, wanting you to move just a bit more, only for you to stop all your movements and make him beg for you to just do something.

You weren’t sure how many times you repeated this routine before you got bored and began pounding into Dottore. He laid back onto your desk, arms covering his face as he leg out the sweetest moans, thighs squeezing and trembling around your hips as you fucked him.

You leaned down and kissed the scars covering Dottore’s body, mumbling praises against his soft skin, relishing in the little protests that escaped him between his moans. No matter how much you told Dottore he was beautiful, how often you gold him you adored every part of him, he would curse and bite back, saying you were insane for loving him so much, but he never made the decision to leave. Never would he reject you when you’d hold him in your lap and shower him with praise and affection.

Dottore gripped your arms tightly, claws digging into the fabric of your shirt and tearing it. What a shame. “You ripped my shirt.” You gazed up at Dottore, seeing the pout that formed on his lips as little tears prickled in his eyes. “Hahh, am I fucking you so good you forgot my directions?” You pulled out fully then snapped your hips against Dottore, the man crying out as his back arched off your desk. “So stupid n’ drunk off my cock you can’t even follow a simple order?” Dottore babbled out apologies, pulling his hands away from your arms as he cried, but you knew he liked it. He adored how quickly you’d go from praising him to degrading him, treating him like he was some cheap whore.

You scoffed at Dottore, squeezing his hips to draw his attention back to you. He looked at you with the prettiest red eyes, seeming as if they sparkles in the dim lighting of your office from his tears. “Clothing can be replaced, ‘m just disappointed you couldn’t hold back for just a little longer.” Dottore frowned, mumbling out a small “sorry.”

You knew he wasn’t sorry.

You sighed, leaning forward and kissing Dottore, feeling his hands rest on your shoulders, no longer caring if his claws tore your clothing. You began to bite and mark Dottore’s neck and shoulders, taking in all the little whines he released right by your ear. You groaned when you felt Dottore clench down around you, biting his neck to try and suppress your own sounds.

He felt so good around you, so tight and warm, you could never get enough of Dottore. You hummed, feeling your orgasm drawing closer and closer, mumbling in Dottore’s ear. “I’m gonna cum, you’ll let me, yeah?” You harshly kissed Dottore, teeth mashing against teeth, your tongue feeling along his sharp teeth, “You’ll let me cum in you, baby?” You smiled when Dottore let out a weak “Yeah.” leaning forward and kissing him once again, your thrusts becoming fast and uneven, only thought in your mind being how badly you wanted to fill Dottore up.

You pulled away from Dottore’s lips and pressed your forehead against his, letting out an airy moan as you released inside of him. Dottore came shortly after, rolling his hips against you as he rode out his high, his head thrown back as he gripped your shoulders tightly. It wasn’t long before you were moving again, now harshly thrusting against Dottore, never letting up as you stuffed your cum deeper and deeper into him, filling him up to the brim. You could see his tummy becoming round and almost appearing bloated with how much cum you stuffed into him, some of it spilling out with each of your thrusts.

Dottore couldn’t complain, not when he felt so good and was so fucked out. He might have wanted to make some snarky remark, tease you for always wanting to fill Dottore up so you could watch your cum spill out of his hole, but at this point he couldn’t. The only thought on his mind was how good he felt, how amazing it was to be filled with your warm cum and how he loved your dick inside of him. Dottore honestly wasn’t quite sure how many times he had cum himself, only focused on you filling him.

You sighed after releasing in Dottore, not sure just now many times you had. Stumbling back, you pulled him into your lap as you sat in your chair, running your hands though his hair. Dottore pressed his face into your neck, gently kissing and nipping your skin. “You’re always so clingy when we finish.” Dottore scoffed, pulling away so he could look at you, wings stretching out behind him as his back popped. “Shut up.” His voice was hoarse, tears and drool dried on Dottore’s face, he didn’t seem to care though.

You shrugged, wrapping your arms around Dottore and pulling him into a hug, playing with his hair and occasionally petting his soft wings, Dottore humming against you. “How long until your next meeting?” You glanced at the clock on your wall, humming to yourself as you thought. “Few hours, why?” Dottore smiled, leaning up and biting your jaw. “That’s good, I want you all to myself for a bit.” You chuckled at Dottore’s words, kissing the base of one of his horns. “I told you you were clingy.” Dottore scoffed once again but didn’t speak, simply burying his face into your neck.

#— events: monster luvrs #— vincent’s stories #genshin smut #dottore smut #dottore x reader #sub dottore #dottore x male reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin x reader #sub genshin #genshin impact smut #il dottore smut #sub il dottore

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ravencincaide · 3 months

Text

The First Time is the Hardest

Summary: You got yourself in the biggest shit in your life and didn’t know where to go or who to turn to. Luckily Chuuya’s door was always open for you, no matter the time or the state you were in. Or the time you find out your innocent boyfriend may not be so innocent after all.

Pairing: fem!reader x Chuuya Nakahara

Inspired by Sweetober prompt 20: Showering

Warnings: Murder/implied self defense, blood, heavily implied abuse, cursing, nudity + showering together, dark content. Light angst/ Hurt and Sweet Chuuya comfort.

Enjoy~

You barely registered the whipping rain. The large drops of icy water were hitting your practically nude body; dressed only in a torn, shredded drenched- summer dress which clung to your body like second skin, Over it; a black scarf, a large thing which you had draped over your head, snaked over your shoulders and then bunched up at your chest. You held it up with both arms, giving you an almost widow-like eerily broken appearance. A sight that made most humans uncomfortable on a normal day. To add to the grim sight; you wore no shoes on your feet and no socks, just the reminiscence of your tights, full of long holes, as if you got caught on something and pulled, tearing the thin synthetic to slivers.

A young woman in the middle of a heavy rainstorm with that appearance made people avert their gaze from you as though you bore the plague. No one wanted to get involved; no one dared to engage.

Slowly you dragged yourself forward, head bowed. You didn’t know how long you walked, you didn’t even know where you were going. Your feet just carried you seemingly at random. When you had nowhere to go, it didn’t matter what path you took or how long you strolled about. It was not like you were wanted or waited anywhere.

No, that was-

You cut your trail of morbid thoughts off as you recognized the area. Your eyes widened and you looked up just as you came to stand in front of a house. Like a fairytale, it stood on top of a hill, fairly isolated from its neighbors. With large modern windows, two stories and a flat roof perfect for private picnics. One side of it overlooked the water while the second faced the city. You could see the lights in the windows of the top floor, peeking through the tiny gap between the thick black curtains.

At that moment, you didn’t know whether to feel sad or relieved that he was home.

You barely registered as your feet propelled you forward with a speed you didn’t know your body had. Stumbling over rocks and your own feet you caught yourself over and over again as you ran to his front door. On the last step you tripped again and fell forward unable to catch yourself. Your knees made painful contact with the cobblestone outside his door. The pain was barely noticeable on your chilled skin but that little amount of it was sufficient to make you burst into tears. Your arms wrapped around your shoulders, sobs tearing through your body. You needed to save yourself, to reach up and ring that doorbell but you were too damaged to do so.

Was this going to be the end of you?

“ Sweetheart, what the hell are you doing here?” Chuuya’s alarmed voice suddenly reached your ears. You sobbed harder. You didn’t know how long you were sitting there, or when he had opened the door, but his voice felt like heaven. A sweet salvation you did not deserve.

“ I’m sorry” You sobbed out as he pulled you up to your feet. You couldn’t bring yourself to face him. “ I didn’t know where else to go-”

“ C’mere” Chuuya sighed as his arms grasped your body and pulled you inside. His foot kicked the door shut behind you, yet he instantly regretted the action when you jumped from the sound. A kiss on the forehead as an apology made you less stiff. Another kiss, and Chuuya’s hands began to pry away the soaked scarf out of your icy cold hands. His lips pressed more kisses to your head as he worked on unraveling it from your body. Half way through however he visibly froze, a hitch in his breath sounding louder than your quiet cries.

The scarf fell out of his hands, slapping against the marble floors with heavy duns; “ Dollface w-why are you covered in blood?”

You had never heard his voice sound so different; so small. So shocked and perhaps a little scared. An almost vulnerable sound you couldn’t quite understand. But you knew you were at fault; you caused this mess and now were dragging him into it. Truly you were the worst human being in existence. Could you even call yourself human any more?

You hung your head lower, larger tears rolling down your cheeks as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “ I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I did it, I-I– him I– K-ki— I’m so so sorry” you repeated that cursed word in between sobs as if it would somehow fix everything. Would take away your guilt; turn back time and erase your sin.

You expected him to yell, to scream and curse and call the police. To shy away from you; to express his disgust at the fact that you had taken a life. To chase you away like the monster you were. Without the scarf your hands could only feebly grasp at the remanence of your blood stained dress, the sticky splatters on your clothes which reinforced your sin. The sight- the smell of it made you cry harder.

“ I – What? Tsk’ed okay, Come on Sweetheart, let’s get you cleaned up first” Chuuya stated in a calm voice; his hands wrapped themselves around your shaking bloody body and guided you in the direction of the bathroom. He helped you up the stairs, through the door then held onto you as he turned on the water. One arm around your waist, the second checking the temperature.

Then he stepped under the water, clothes and all, pulling you with him.

One arm remained propping you up and close to his chest, letting you sob into it. His second worked on getting the shreds of the dress off. He tossed it into the corner of his bathroom. Then he tore your tights the rest of the way before tossing the damaged material into the same corner as the dress. His breath hitched in his throat as his fingers brushed against the bruises on your body; newly forming ones on your arms- old ones on your stomach, back and thighs. His look darkened- how the fuck did he miss those?!

“ Oh my sweetheart” Chuuya mumbled in a whisper, careful not to scare you further. The next kiss he pressed was longer. You could have sworn Chuuya, himself was shaking.

Before you could apologize again he got to work; determined to wash every last drop of that bastards blood off your body. He started with your shoulders, the sponge with soap carefully scrubbing each inch of your skin. Then down your back. Then to your stomach. At your permission he unclipped your bra and ran the sponge over your chest.

“ You’re doing so good m’ gorgeous girl” he mumbled, gently hushing your sobs, calming your tears.

He waited until you seemed a little calmer before he shifted you ever so slightly. “ Here hold onto me” he said as he raised your hands and rested them on his shoulders. Then he knelt down running the sponge over your bare legs. He focused extra attention on your feet, determined to scrub the dirt and hours of bare-foot walking away from your skin. As scratches reopened Chuuya growled, feeling of anger and incompetence, a hopeless feeling filled his chest. A reminder of his own failure to protect you. A sensation which made his hold tighten on you; “ How long were you walking around sweetheart?” he asked quietly as he dropped the sponge and rested his head on your stomach. “ How long?!”

“ I don’t know” you whispered numbly, your eyes staring blankly at the soaked head of ginger. The once white dress shirt had splotches of red on it. And the suit pants didn’t look much better for wear. All bećause of you-

“Hmph- Did anyone see you?”

You swallowed and shrugged. You didn’t know. How could you know- you were still out of it. Still in shock over why he was washing your bloody body instead of having you locked up behind bars. Why was he still with you; still kissing you, holding you all that much closer, as if you had suddenly become all that much more precious?

Why?

“ Chuu” you whispered and instantly he looked up at you. Blue eyes rimmed red- but whether it was from tears or shower water you couldn’t tell. “ You don’t need to cover for me. It’s okay, it’s okay– I’m sorry for dragging you into this I’--”

“ Hah, as if one corpse is gonna make me turn tail, pretty girl. Get to hundreds and then we talk” Chuuya chuckled and pressed another kiss to your bare stomach before standing up. As if he had said the most natural thing in the world. He reached for the shampoo bottle and poured some into his hand before beginning to rub it into your hair, his eyes focused entirely on the way the white froth turned red.

“ W-what?!” you gaped not even being able to fathom to repeat this more times; one time was hard enough- a sin enough- wasn’t it?

“ You heard me sweetheart; trust me when I say, the first time is the hardest. After the fifth it’s no different than doing taxes”

You close your eyes as he tilted your head backwards, gentle fingers washed out the shampoo. Then tilted your head up again as a cold dollop of conditioner was applied. Chuuya began to massage your scalp, then the lengths of your hair, making sure to focus on the tangled strands. He was going to wash every single single reminder of the heinous act off your body.

Your lips pull up into a wry smile at his comparison. Then you hesitate for a long moment. Salvaging the feeling of him washing your hair. The feeling brought you the tiniest bit of hope that things would turn out okay- a firm reminder that you did not deserve him “Then… can you make it go away?” you whispered as fresh tears rolled down your cheeks “ To make it all okay?”

Chuuya sighed and brought you closer to his chest, your tears tugging on his heart in ways he never wanted to experience ever again. Your broken expression and agonized cries felt worse than any stab wound he experienced. “ I’ll take care of everything baby, trust me? Shhh my sweetheart. Come tomorrow, this will feel like a bad dream- a nightmare you won’t give a second thought to. In time my sweets this won't cause you tears anymore; as I said, first time is always the hardest..”

And as he pressed his lips to yours, you prayed that was the case.

Though a little voice inside your mind told you Chuuya knew what he was talking about. At least when it came to this. You knew you should be afraid but at that moment you were just thanking the gods. If he was going to help you cover up your sin, then who were you to be concerned over the blood on his hands?

Author Note: ... No one gets to point out my counting abilities okay? Lets focus on the fic instead, mm? It's a bit dark but definitely in my sweeter category. Originally it was like 3 times as long but hey even I can't have however-long-fics posted in one post. That being said it's only quickly edited because I just don't have the strengths for a longer edit rn. So I'm sorry for all the mistakes i'd normally catch; I'll most likely go back one day and fix it up. Until then, please enjoy this Chuuya "fluff?" Wait, can it even be called that?!

#bsd chuuya #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #chuuya nakahara x reader #murder #first time #sweetober #Chuuya angst #Chuuya hurt comfort #Chuuya comfort #Raven Cincaide works #Chuuya fluff

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achaotichuman · 6 months

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Acotar Rant Time

Tonight I'm feeling the audacity, so I'm just gonna say it.

Feyre was far more respected and far more highly regarded in the Spring Court than she ever has been in the Night Court.

In the Spring Court, she was brought in as their last hope. The savior, the High lord's salvation. And she fulfilled that, she became their salvation, their warrior, the Spring Court's champion of sorts. She was the Cursebreaker. She may not have been High lady, but to be honest. She had the same responsibilities and expectations. She was second only to the High lord, and for a 19-year-old with no experience in politics, nor any knowledge of how the Court's function, those are some pretty damn high expectations. Everyone respected and adored her. They didn't want her to help with rebuilding because they respected her as a leader and wanted her to rest. If Tamlin became incapacitated for some reason or another, she would be the one to step up into his position. That was simply another responsibility and expectation she had, and the Spring Court didn't ever dare say she wouldn't be capable for the role because they trusted her to fulfill that to the best of her ability. They loved her!

Now consider the Night Court. The Night Court was the most closed off from Under the Mountain. Velaris never having even being affected by Amarantha, so they would've had no clue of what went on. Correct me if I'm wrong on this, but I do not believe the Hewn City was really touched, and Illyria had some join Amarantha to follow their High lord, but I believe they were fairly well off compared to other Courts.

So, no one really has any idea who the fuck Feyre is, she to them is just some 20-year-old High Fae girl who showed up one day. To the Hewn City she was brought in as a slut Rhysand liked to fuck. Are they supposed to respect her for that? She was dressed in rags in the same manner she was UtM, she was put on display as a pretty doll. Everyone hated her from the get-go and had no respect for her, because she was also condoning Rhysand's abuse to them. Making them bow to her and overall being a bitch to a whole city of people. The next time they see her she is suddenly High lady. Was that supposed to make them respect her? Of course, it wouldn't have! She joined in on abusing them, acting like a horrific person, and demanding they bow to her even though she had done nothing to deserve it. They only do what she asks because they have been taught to be terrified of Rhysand.

The Hewn City has no reason to think of her as their ruler. Feyre has proven time and time again she does not respect them, so why should they respect her? Most of Illyria most likely does not even know she exists considering how widespread it is. Not to mention Feyre also does nothing to help the woman abused there, so again, why should they respect her? Because self-fucking-righteous Rhysand says so?

And Velaris. Again, most of them probably don't even know she exists. And they also have no reason to think of her as their ruler, considering she has done nothing for them, and they would have never known how she broke the curse. To them, she's just another woman going about her day, no one special. No one they care about or answer to.

This post is not to say Feyre shouldn't have left the Spring Court. This is to say Tamlin is not sexist in any way. When he said High ladies did not exist that was simply a statement of fact and reassurance they would not call her as such as Feyre at the time did not want to be High lady. He put her in a high position of power and exalted her name. She was loved and respected by all, and there was no fear-mongering necessary to get her that respect, she earned it and Tamlin upheld it. Rhysand however, dragged Feyre's name through the mud and she let him.

I fully believe Feyre had every right to leave Tamlin. However, her reputation was ruined permanently by going to the Night Court.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

#acotar #feyre archeron #feyre critical #sjm critical #anti rhysand #anti feysand #tamlin deserves better #tamlin #spring court #night court

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radioactivemelody · 8 months

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After a long, excruciating wait, our suffering shall end. I literally woke up with this trailer being shown EVERYWHERE.

And it is only natural for me to analyze frame by frame because I'm so, so hyped today. So, let's get into it.

Understanding the new trailer

The trailer opens with a phone call and what appears to be a young girl talking to Homura.

The entire sequence makes me understand that the Magical Girls knows, at some point, what Homura did. They are aware she isn't their Law of Cycles, asking if she can accept the risks and responsibilities.

Now, the risks and responsibilities of what? Of being essentially the replacements for what Madoka Kaname, the Law of Cycles, was? The salvation of all Magical Girls?

Which is promptly replied by Homura, who asks if they can fight against the curse of this world? I still haven't understood what she meant with that. The curse of this world? The witches, perhaps? But she says "curse", not "curses" as in plural. It is just one, singular curse.

Walpurgisnacht.

And then, the trailer begins to show a black and white sequence of Homura. Only Homura, from the anime to the last movie, Rebellion. The voice says there is only one thing she can do and that's love. They call her "Akuma-san", which translates to "Devil".

This part here intrigues me the most. They say she is a Magical Girl they don't know. And keep asking to bring hope, just bring hope, release that girl.

Which strengths my previously mentioned theory. The Magical Girls from the new world appear to have some type of acknowledgement that Homura isn't the Law of Cycles from before. They are asking for her to bring hope back. To bring Madoka back, thus, asking, demanding for her to release that girl. Release Madoka back so she can return to being the Law of Cycles.

They know Homura isn't their savior, that she is a false god who took the place from their true, original goddess and savior. And maybe, they might rally to overthrow her and put Madoka back in her place.

Look how Madoka's name is inside quotation marks. We kind of know post-Rebellion Madoka is just a Madoka without her memories of being a goddess, helpless to fight back because Homura keeps beaming her with a memory-wiping laser. This Madoka is not the original Madoka, just a shell, a reflection of what Homura desires her to be.

…A new Magical Girl? She wields Homura's bow after Madoka's divine ascension, her outfit resembles Homura's and has Mami's ribbons. What the hell is going over here? I saw someone saying that it might be an artificially created Magical Girl by Homura in order to defeat Walpurgisnacht but honestly, I have NO idea.

This frame in particular. Homura's uniform is a tad different from what we are accustomed to see. Also, the umbrella. It resembles way too much the bottom part of Walpurgisnacht's dress. I might be reading it in a nonsensical way but look, the movie is called Walpurgisnacht: Rising, everything counts at this point.

And just like Rebellion, this movie will be gorgeous in the visual aspect.

Aside from everyone getting some improvement in their outfits, we have Sayaka. Oh, Sayaka. She has ribbons(?) in her mouth.

When Homura became the Devil, remember who was the first person from the quartet to see her? Exactly, Sayaka did. In a way, Sayaka is the bearer of the truth. She knows the world they're living in is fake. She knows what happened to Madoka. And yet, she can't propagate the truth. Not even to herself because she can't remember.

Those ribbons in her mouth might symbolize the fact Homura silenced her from telling the truth. And if they end up remembering, she is going to be the first.

Everyone talks about a confrontation between Madoka and Homura but let me enlighten you: a confrontation between Homura and Sayaka. Scene absolutely worthy of every Oscar ever known. This is true cinema.

AND THE CLARA DOLLS ARE BACK!!! And in this scene we have three of them. I tried to identificate them but due to the "simplism" of them, it's kind of hard but hey, I tried! I might be wrong but anyways.

From left to right: Manuke (stupid-looking), Usotsuki (liar) e Warukuchi (slanderer).

Considering the Clara Dolls represent Homura's emotions and flaws… Yeah, our girl is suffering. Prepare for another movie that will wrench your heart beyond recognition.

#when this movie come out all of you are NOT hearing the end out of me #i will rant about it whenever i can #I WAS WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT 🔥🔥🔥🔥#puella magi madoka magica #madoka magica #pmmm #walpurgis no kaiten

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yandere-writer-momo · 2 months

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Part 2 🖤I made the demon king a black man. I don’t see many Yandere POC OCs 🖤

Yandere Head Canons:

Defying Destiny

Yandere Demon King x Isekai Saintess Reader x Yandere Hero (mentioned)

TW: imprisonment, kidnapping, stalking, uncomfortable themes, sexual themes, Somniaphilia, Dacryphilia, etc.

Part 1

You woke up wrapped in the silk sheets of snow unfamiliar bed. Your eyes wild and your heart raced in your chest like a startled animal. Where were you and where was Reinhardt?! Why were there candles everywhere in this dark bedroom? Was Reinhardt planning to… oh god you were terrified.

You felt a sob rack through you when reality set in. Had Reinhardt stolen you away to live out some sort of sick fantasy instead of going through with his quest to slay the demon king? No… Reinhardt wouldn’t bring you to such a luxurious home. But who on earth brought you here?

“I see you’re awake, my delicate flower.” Your head snapped to the doorway to see the silhouette of a large man. You felt your blood run cold and a shiver run down your spine by his presence. That raspy baritone voice belonged to a stranger.

You flinched when the man suddenly slapped his clawed hands on the end of the king sized bed. Your eyes met gold for the first time and you seeped your heart stopped in your chest from pure terror. There was no mistaking who your captor was… he was the demon king.

“What’s the matter, saintess?” He chuckled as he reached a taloned finger out to hook around a strand of your hair. “Cat got your tongue?”

You felt tears stream down your cheeks when he flashed his long fangs at you. He was bewitchingly beautiful with his burnt umber skin and golden eyes. There was no doubt he was a demon and that fact terrified you. What did he want from you? Was he… was he going to kill you?

The demon king sighed at your shivering form before he moved himself to sit beside you. His hand moved to hold yours. “It’s alright, darling. I’m not going to hurt you.”

You sniffled when he began to wipe away your tears. “W… what?”

“I’d never hurt my saintess.” The demon king gave you a toothy smile. “My beautiful, merciful saintess… my salvation.”

You gasped when he brought your right hand up to his lips to press a tender kiss to the back of it. “It’s so wonderful to finally have you here with me… you’ll be safe here.”

“I’m just a bit confused about all of this…” You felt so small under his intense gaze, like he was about to pounce on you at any second. “Who are you and why have you taken me?”

The demon lord chuckled as he rose up from the bed to stand at his full, intimidating height. His curved black horns nearly added another foot to his height which made he give you a smirk. “Why I am the Demon King but you can call me Amon.”

The demon king- no, Amon, bowed his head to you. “And I took you to save you.”

You were surprised to see a tray of freshly made food in front of you when Amon snapped his fingers. Your stomach growled at the delicious sight, but you were hesitant to accept… Amon quickly caught onto your hesitance and took a bite of the food for you. “Don’t worry, it’s real and completely edible. Only the best for my saintess.”

You shyly took a bite and smiled at the taste. It was lovely…

Amon smiled warmly at you, his golden eyes studied your satisfied smile in pure joy. He was so happy to please you!

Amon ran his talons through his long black hair with a smile. “I’ll take care of you from now on. You’re safe here.”

As the weeks melted into months, Amon kept his word. None of his demon nor monster henchmen were mean towards you, unlike the hero’s party. Sure Amon was never far from you, but his company was much preferred over Reinhardt’s. Amon would bring you meals and made sure you had fresh clothes. He pampered you like a beloved pet.

Though it was never officially stated, you were Amon’s lover. And thus, you treated as such by his subjects. They’d wait for you on hand and foot. You received various expensive clothing and jewelry, they were eager to make you smile. It was such a stark contrast compared to your treatment prior…

You often gazed out your window at the volcanic city below. It was fascinating just how different monsters and demons lived from humans… so why did the humans want to destroy them so much?

You jumped when Amon entered the room to wrap his muscular arms around your waist, his nose pressed onto your shoulder. A few of his box braids tickled your skin. “I missed you so much… I just wish the humans would leave us alone. I grow tired of the hero and his party. They’re so much weaker without your barriers and healing. To think they never treated you well. What a bunch of losers.”

You turned to gaze at Amon in interest. “What is it that they’re after? Why do the humans hate your people so much?”

Amon gave you the softest of smiles, a bit of his fangs peaked out from under his lip. “Our magic stones. Monsters and demons produce enough magic stones to fuel humanity for eons… they’re worth a lot of money to humans.”

Amon pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder, his gold eyes stared expectantly up at you. “You’re the only human to ever question their greed and motives. You don’t wish to be bound to a destiny thrust upon you by the world.”

Amon bent down on one knee and pressed his lips over your palms and fingers. “Join me. Together we can defy our destiny. You don’t have to be a Saintess forced to marry the hero and I won’t have to be a page in the history books.”

You felt a blush on your cheeks when he tilted his handsome face at you. “Let’s watch the world burn together.”

And now you had a choice to make. To fulfill the destiny predetermined for you or to defy your destiny.

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 10 months

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I’m combining these two requests together since they’re both with a Muichiro reader and would go nicely with each other.

-The Hashira were panicking, you were known for wandering off when you get bored, and today was no exception, you and they all knew it was going to be boring, and they knew to watch you, but failed, because within minutes you had vanished into thin air.

-Lord Ubuyashiki wasn’t upset with any of them, being calm and collected like normal, and was able to use his foresight to see you fighting against a strong opponent.

-The Hashira weren’t stupid, they knew you were strong, being a prodigy, and you wouldn’t have become a Hashira if your skills were lacking in any way, but they still needed to find you.

-You’re not sure where you were, wandering around a massive stadium where you heard cheering crowds. Your neck stretched as you tilted your head back, seeing the towering building, wondering what was going on inside.

-A familiar voice then spoke up, “Y/N?” you turned and bowed your head in respect, “Hello Lord Hades.” He came over, lifting a hand to ruffle your head, treating you a bit like a child, but he knew you were very strong, “What are you doing here? Or did you wander off again.”

-Your blank gaze made him grin as you spoke, “I was bored.” He nodded softly before asking you to walk with him and you followed him into the stadium.

-It was a fighting tournament, Ragnarok was the name of it, humans fighting gods for the salvation of humanity. You hadn’t heard anything about this, but then again, you weren’t known for paying attention all the time, maybe that’s why the day had been so boring.

-You saw Kojiro fighting Poseidon and your eyes widened slightly, knowing Kojiro, he was like a grandpa with you, always treating you gently and being so warm and kind.

-Hades saw your focus on the fight as Kojiro won, standing over Poseidon as the victor before helping him up, as the fights were originally going to be to the death, but many advised against it. He smiled over at you, “Zeus has been saying that this tournament has proven to be a lot of fun, and he’s been saying even if the gods win, they’re not going to destroy humanity, but keep everyone around, so we can have this tournament again.”

-You nodded softly, understanding his logic before Hades grinned, “Would you like to fight?” your face was stoic and bored looking as you turned, but he could see the spark of interest in your eyes, and he arranged for the next fight to be you fighting for humanity against an earth god, Kand.

-Brunnhilde greeted you warmly, as you’ve met her in the past and you at least returned the greeting, and she agreed for you fighting next.

-However, they realized as you walked out, the chorus of jeers ringing through the stadium, it probably wasn’t the best to have a teenager fight.

-Kojiro was gawking, “Y/N?! Why are they fighting?!” Adam was glaring harshly as well, seeing a child, one of his children, preparing to fight.

-Hades approached them all, “Don’t underestimate Y/N just because they are young. Y/N is a Hashira for a reason.” Adam didn’t know the term, instead looking at Kojiro who looked mad, but excited at the same time.

-The other Hashira stormed the stadium, finding Hades with Adam, Kojiro, Lu Bu, Hercules, and Brunnhilde, Giyuu greeting Hades before inquiring about you.

-They all pointed outwards, and they all quickly saw you fighting in the tournament. Tengen and Rengoku were quickly cheering for you, along with Mitsuri while Shinobu held her cheek, “Ara-ara, we can’t look away for one moment without Y/N getting into something, can we?”

-All of the Hashira nodded in unison, agreeing with her words while Adam was still scowling, not liking the idea of you fighting, even if you did win easily.

-When you won you headed upstairs where you saw everyone, not reacting when Mitsuri hugged you, “Y/N that was amazing!!” before Uzui ruffled your hair lightly.

-Kojiro and Adam both grinned at you, praising your skills and Hades smiled softly, “Boredom gone?” you gave a small shrug of your shoulders, “A bit, wish he had been stronger though.” Laughter rang out all around you, as that was expected of you, you were way stronger than you looked.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror hades #muichiro #ror adam #ror kojiro sasaki

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youryurigoddess · 11 days

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The Small Back Room — Hour of Glory (1949)

Good Omens 2 begins with the visit to The Small Back Room not because it was meant to serve as an exposition scene for Maggie and her record shop. It’s a substantial foreshadowing of the main plot and the relationship changes between Aziraphale and Crowley.

As all the other classics referenced throughout the show, this 1949 Powell and Pressburger production is easily available online — whenever you have 100 minutes to spare, I highly encourage you to watch it.

Our story begins with the arrival of Stuart, a British military captain, who makes his way through a labyrinth of offices towards a small building — the research section led by an eccentric, queer-coded, bow tie wearing professor Mair — to ask for help with a secret Nazi weapon.

That’s when the professor calls our hero, Sammy Rice — an engineer and bomb disposal expert in the service of Her Majesty’s government and, not accidentally, the most brooding, wounded man in Powell and Pressburger’s impressive canon of dysfunctional and alienated characters.

Due to a prosthetic foot keeping him from active service and confining to work in the titular back room instead, Rice is dramatically slipping into alcoholism. Haunted by self-loathing and disappointment with the internal politics, he can’t see the point of his research anymore.

Sammy is also conducting a clandestine affair with the secretary of his research unit, Susan. They live in the same building and meet regularly, but can’t openly enjoy their company or even dance due to his injury, which makes him even more bitter and pathologically determined to wear her angelic patience down.

Susan puts up with it until the minister is forced to resign. She knows that if non-scientists take over, their section will become useless, Rice even more difficult, and the war possibly lost. She urges him to take action and when he dramatically refuses to make a difference, she leaves him.

Seemingly at his lowest now, Rice becomes a sudden chance to redeem himself. Captain Stuart calls him about two unexploded booby traps found in Wales, but left to himself, he dies during a heroic attempt to dismantle one of the thermos-like devices before our engineer arrives at the scene.

In a nerve-jangling finale, Stuart’s notes help Rice dismantle the second device. He becomes a hero, gets an officer commission as head of the new scientific unit, and discovers that Susan not only came back in the meantime, but repaired everything he drunkenly destroyed in the apartment after their breakup.

The parallels seem straightforward enough for me to add that in this context the role of Maggie through most of S2 may particularly reflect Crowley’s stagnancy in both work and love life. And if you’re unsure why the demon identifies with the heroic roles and characters, you might want to read this post on the subject.

Now, The Small Back Room was distributed in the US under another title — Hour of Glory. Which happens to be a specific Bible term referring to Christ’s “hour”, the period supposed to consummate all of his work on Earth and reveal God’s ultimate plan of salvation: the Son’s death.

John 12:20-36 Jesus replied, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. Anyone who loves their life will lose it, while anyone who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servant also will be. My Father will honor the one who serves me. Now my soul is troubled, and what shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it was for this very reason I came to this hour. Father, glorify your name.” Then a voice came from heaven, “I have glorified it, and will glorify it again.” The crowd that was there and heard it said it had thundered; others said an angel had spoken to him. Jesus said, “This voice was for your benefit, not mine. Now is the time for judgment on this world; now the prince of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.”

Christ’s hour began in the garden — this time the garden of Gethsemane — as he prayed passionately for the cup to be passed from him, similarly to Aziraphale declining Metatron’s offers on screen, both regarding the hot drink and his reinstatement as part of the Heavenly Host:

Luke 22:42 “Father, if you are willing, please take this cup of suffering away from me. Yet I want your will to be done, not mine.”

All throughout the Old Testament, we see God’s wrath being described as a cup poured out on sin and those guilty of it. By accepting it, Jesus took the toll of all the sins — from Eden up until the last one to be committed right before his Second Coming — on himself, for the sake of his beloved humanity.

The passion of Christ continued as Judas betrayed him with a kiss, his disciples abandoned him, and the high priest accused him of crimes he was not guilty of. Even Pilate, the prefect of Rome, pretended to uphold the law; and remember we already expect a S3 trial based on another Archers movie.

All in all, it’s an hour of great injustice and pain, but also glory of God. We’re led to believe that the Ineffable Plan will similarly triumph over the great one (or whatever Metatron tries to implement at the moment), as it did in S1. And its ending will be a good one, back in a garden.

#bible fanfiction #actually quoting bible #cup of suffering #give me coffee or give me death #the small back room #hour of glory #good omens #good omens meta #good omens analysis #final fifteen #crowley #crowley is a superhero #aziraphale #supreme archangel aziraphale #ineffable husbands #yuri is doing her thing #drinking coffee #an oat milk latte with a dash of almond syrup

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brabblesblog · 4 months

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Ch 13: Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm.

Astarion has ascended, and she has stayed with him. Life in the Crimson Palace isn’t as idyllic as it seems. Is there a chance for their relationship to go back to how it was? Or is it too late for the Ascendant and his consort?

This series is about Ban, my Tav, and the Vampire Ascendant. Will be angst and smut, with sprinkles of fluff.

This fic is a softer take on Ascendant!Astarion and of the changes he undergoes after the rite. Can Ban handle the change, and if a chance came, would she choose to run? And can the Ascendant win her back in time? Inspired by the concept of vampire wives and that IGN interview with Larian that discussed the ascension.

Professionally edited by @editing-by-night

Astarion makes plans to rescue Ban.

Read on AO3.

Masterlist.

“A bard!” Astarion thundered as he burst through the doors to the ballroom. The servant cleaning nearby jerked in surprise at the sight of his master; Astarion snapped his fingers irritably.

“They took her. Get me a bard. Now!”

He marched towards his throne, refusing to take a moment to breathe. He could not pause, could not panic. He could only act.

The ornate throne greeted him, as large and imposing and worthless as ever. He collapsed onto the cushioned seat, glowering at the ballroom as he waited, his composure hanging by a thread.

Don’t think about what they’re doing to her. Don’t worry. Just do.

He was unable to feel her mind, silence was all that met him whenever he attempted to reach her. But she was alive, he surmised, hoped, prayed - something he knew to be futile, given how much futile praying he had done when he was Cazador’s.

But he couldn’t help it.

Fingertips rapidly tapping on the armrest, the Ascendant’s head snapped towards the doors as a servant walked in with a jovial, rotund man.

“My good saer,” the man began, bowing to Astarion in a respectful, if overstated, manner. “Would you like to hear some-“

“Can you cast a Sending spell?”

Astarion’s eyes bored into the man. The bard noted the demeanor of the man, the way his hands gripped the armrest, the way he leaned forward, as if he was his only chance of salvation. The smile was wiped from the bard’s face.

“Yes, saer. I am able to,” he replied, standing a little straighter.

“Ever heard of a wizard named Gale of Waterdeep?”

The bard considered for a moment, then nodded in assent, “Yes, saer, he was one of the heroes-”

“Good.” With the bard familiar with Gale, the Sending spell would succeed. “Send this to him,” he snapped, not caring to let the man finish his sentence. The bard hurried to take out his journal and quill.

“Gale. This is from Astarion. Ban has been taken by the covens in Waterdeep. She needs your help.”

He paused to think. Eighteen words. What else should I include?

Pushing past his pride, he continued.

“I need your help. Please. For her.” Twenty-five.

Astarion watched, jaw clenching as the bard cast the Sending spell; his hands gripped the armrests of his throne tightly.

The reply came quickly.

“Hello. This is Gale of Waterdeep. If this is indeed you, Astarion, you will have to prove it-” the bard reported.

“It’s me!” He growled, the rising irritation in his voice unmistakable, “Tell Gale - tell that ass I sent it. Astarion sent it. Tell him- for gods’ sakes, tell him I know he tried to fuck my wife, how about that? He’ll know it’s me!”

“Saer-” The man hesitated. He counted on his fingers, carefully. “That’s… okay.” He cast the spell and transmitted the message in his mind, too afraid to alter the Ascendant’s words.

Astarion sent it. Tell him- for gods’ sakes, tell him I know he tried to fuck my wife, how about that? He’ll know it’s me!

That seemed to successfully capture Gale’s attention. The bard swallowed as the response came back. Gale wanted to know where Astarion was.

“He’s asking where you are, saer.”

Astarion wanted to snap both the bard’s and Gale’s necks.

“In my godsforsaken home, obviously!”

“Saer,” the bard gulped, “Gale says he will be here shortly.”

Astarion waved a hand; his chamberlain moved forward. “Pay him.” He dismissed the bard with another flick of his wrist, his mind already on far more important matters.

He would have to retrieve Woe. Rhapsody as well, he thought. Cazador’s old weapons, turned on him at the rite; Astarion had them stored in chests in one of the spare rooms. During the worst nights after the reunion with their former companions, when seeing Ban had been an impossibility, he would go to that room and look at both weapons. Cradle Rhapsody, the dagger he’d used to carve into Cazador’s back.

A reminder of what it had taken to acquire his current position. A reminder of the price he’d paid: seven thousand souls, those of his siblings included, along with what little had been left of his admittedly very limited integrity.

He knew he’d need them for the fight to come. They had worked in ending his master, in creating wounds that had stayed open and had not healed as was normal for his kind. They would suffice.

Astarion headed for the spare room where the weapons were kept while he waited for Gale’s arrival.

Woe, the staff, sat where he had left it, but Rhapsody was missing from its container.

He felt bile rise in his throat, a mixture of fear and outrage filling him. Who had taken it? Only he entered this room - even Ban had refrained from doing so, knowing exactly what was - had been - here. He picked up Woe with trembling fingers, absently testing its heft.

His thoughts swirled around this new problem, trying to discern who the culprit could be.

None of their guests could have done it. They had always been restricted to certain areas of the palace - namely, the ballroom and its surrounding rooms. This room was out of the way, kept from prying eyes by an illusory wall-

Undead. They were much less susceptible to illusion magic.

Astarion let out a low, frustrated groan. Vel. At the party.

After he had saved Ban from the vampire’s lecherous grasp, they had been so wrapped up in each other that they had failed to keep track of the other vampires. They had snuck out to make love and his summons had been released when he’d been consumed by his passion. It would have been painfully easy to slip into this area and…

Enraged, he stormed out, Woe in hand.

Astarion turned the corner, walking briskly, berating himself for never checking on his weapons after the party, and almost collided with his chamberlain. The man bowed, beginning to stutter an apology.

“My lord, I apologize, but-”

“What?”

“Saer.” The chamberlain cleared his throat. “Gale of Waterdeep is here.”

Gale sat in the dining room, his hands clasped around Markoheshkir. He fidgeted, a little nervous to be back here after all this time. Especially after what Astarion had said in the Sending spell. He hadn’t been all that surprised when Ban had written to him about reuniting with Astarion, but meeting the Vampire Ascendant again was definitely not something he had wanted, nor expected, to ever do.

He looked up as the doors flew open and Astarion marched in gripping Woe so tightly his knuckles were noticeably white. Gale had never seen fit to be afraid of Astarion before, but in that moment the Ascendant looked terrifying. Gale stiffened, defensively tightening his grasp on Markoheshkir.

“Astarion,” he said carefully, watching his former companion take a seat across from him, Woe placed on the table in front of him. “Before we discuss Ban’s plight, I would like to shed light on-”

The Ascendant scoffed, a short, pained sound.

“On your pathetic attempts to convince my wife to leave me and then seduce her?” He took a deep breath. There were so many things he would like to say. He felt betrayed by the wizard, felt betrayed by all of his companions. They’d abandoned him after the ascension, hadn’t even tried to help him. They’d helped Ban leave him; he knew she had wanted it and that it had all worked out in the end, he couldn’t help feeling resentful.

“You were my friend. You all were,” he spat out, then forced himself to stop there. He needed Gale’s help, even though he deplored the thought.

“She deserved better, Astarion,” Gale countered “She always has. You and I both know that.” His hold on Markoheshkir tightened even further; he braced himself for a possible attack.

Astarion sucked in a breath, gearing up for a tirade about wretched, two-faced so-called friends, but the words died in his throat.

Do you want his help or not? The voice in his head laughed a little. Besides. He’s right.

“Fine.” The statement was meant more for himself than for Gale. “Let’s let bygones be… bygones, I suppose.” He clicked his tongue, more to express his pique than anything else, then exhaled.

“To ease your concerns,” he finally said, “Ban and I have reconciled.” That was all he thought his former companion deserved to know - that she had chosen him again. That they were together, and no one would ever come between them again.

It was a far cry from the insecure, distraught person he had been just a few hours ago. He sat tall, hoping Gale saw him as the epitome of quiet, proud confidence.

But Gale perceived a man with frayed nerves, barely clinging on to his facade as his heart worried for his spouse. The clasped fingers shook a little, his eyes were frantic, his breathing too fast, brows pinched with stress. Gale felt a wave of empathy towards the Ascendant.

Gale sighed. “All I really desire is her happiness. If that is with you, then I am glad.” He thought for a moment, contemplating whether he should continue.

“Just don’t hurt her again, that's all.”

The Ascendant’s eyes flashed with fury, but only for the briefest moment. The second look that passed across his face was quickly concealed, but Gale caught a glimpse of it: guilt.

Astarion cleared his throat. He hadn’t summoned Gale here to be lectured on his relationship, but he knew that Gale and the rest of their former companions only mean Ban well. They weren’t entirely wrong for holding poor opinions of him. At his core, he wholeheartedly agreed with them.

“Acknowledged,” he replied tersely. He steepled his fingers beneath his chin and considered the man sitting before him.

“I… invited you here-” not summoned, yes, good, “-because Ban needs help.”

Of course Astarion needed his help too, but saying that was too much for his ego to manage.

Gale nodded sagely. “The Stedez coven, I presume? They’re an open secret in Waterdeep. Nine vampires, a few loyal mortals and various other lackeys. May I inquire as to why they have taken an interest in Ban?”

We don’t have time for this, you idiot!

Astarion’s hands left his chin to rest atop the table. As close as he was to losing his temper, he knew he needed Gale’s help.

“Ban went to Waterdeep, to your tower, in your company, and they noticed.” He wanted to blame Gale for being careless with Ban, for unintentionally allowing the Waterdhavian vampires to see her out and about in daylight. But if Astarion hadn’t been so cruel to her, she would never have left in the first place.

“They saw my gifts, heard about my ill-fated attempt to retrieve her, and realized she… that there were issues in our marriage.” He fixed his gaze on a point past Gale, and continued.

“I invited them here for a party, to establish the fact that she is mine and under my control.” Astarion was aware of how that sounded, and he winced internally. “Vel took a liking to her, and things may have escalated.”

He wasn’t sure if Vel had abducted Ban in an effort to actually acquire her for himself, or to lure Astarion out. Lust was a strong motivating factor, but wounding a vampire’s pride? That was unpardonable. And Astarion had grievously wounded Vel’s.

Gale watched Astarion intently, divining what the Ascendant refused to say. He protected her, he realized. Of course Astarion would hide under his guise of practiced indifference; he always had, since they’d first met. Gale was all too content to let him keep up the pretense, though, nodding at his words.

“I understand. And now Vel has abducted her, and likely taken her to his mansion in Waterdeep.”

A sharp nod from the Ascendant was the only reply, his eyes still firmly avoiding looking at Gale.

Gale let out a small chortle and Astarion’s head whipped around to glare at him.

“To think they kidnapped the hero of Baldur’s Gate out from under her husband, the Vampire Ascendant, and her best friend, the wizard of Waterdeep. Foolish, at best.” Gale smiled and Astarion scoffed in agreement, his face softening marginally.

“I’ll help you, Astarion. Not for you though, mind.” He added, wagging a finger at him playfully.

Astarion scowled at the gesture, irritated, and for a moment Gale was reminded of their adventuring days, bickering and competing for Ban’s affections.

“I know.” Astarion picked up Woe as he stood. “He also stole Rhapsody, the utter prick. They could kill her with that weapon.” Rage and fear warred in Astarion’s trembling voice.

Gale offered the only kindness the Ascendant was likely to accept from him. “But they will not. We will see to that.”

The two men stood as they were teleported into Gale’s tower and Astarion grimaced at the memory of the last time he had been here. They walked out of the teleportation circle; Gale clapped his hands awkwardly.

“Welcome to my most humble abode,” he said with a small bow, “Feel free to wander about and make yourself at home.” He pointed to the guest room, the same one Ban stayed in. “That room is yours until we head out.”

Astarion gave a nod and wordlessly headed into the offered room. He and Gale had taken the carriage to Sorcerous Sundries, where Rolan had allowed them to use his teleportation circle. The two wizards had spent almost half an hour catching up; half an hour that to the Ascendant had felt like a century.

He leaned Woe against the door and sat in the chair by the window. He knew this room, had seen it in Ban’s mind the night the two of them had…

Gods. I can’t think about that right now.

Astarion fought back the tears that threatened to well up yet again, staring out the window at the sprawling city below, focusing on nothing. He’d been to Waterdeep before, to seek out Ban, but seeing it in the light of the setting sun made him wistful. He and Gale had decided to plan and rest tonight before heading out tomorrow. Confronting them in the daytime would ensure that they had the advantage over the Waterdhavian vampires.

We haven’t even been anywhere since the Netherbrain, he thought sadly.

He remembered Ban telling him she wanted to travel, the day after they had defeated the Absolute. He had sold her his empty promises, and then whisked her off into the bowels of the Crimson Palace. He had barely allowed her out.

Remorse filled him then, a sensation he’d been growing more and more acquainted with as each day passed. He’d merely wanted to protect her, cherish her, and he’d thought they would have all the time in the world to travel. Perhaps in the next century, he’d thought. The renovation and the scheming had needed to come first.

How wrong he’d been. How cruel, to keep her under lock and key under the pretense of ensuring her safety, when he’d simply feared her abandoning him at the first chance.

Oh, but the moment she was out of your grasp, she ran, didn’t she?

Yes. But he had deserved to be left. What he had done was contemptible.

The Ascendant tried again.

Well then, how about this? The moment she was allowed free rein around the city, she was taken. She was hurt!

He scoffed to himself. That one was valid, and for a moment he was tempted to let that thought win out. But, no. Vel had been drawn to Ban because Astarion’s behavior had made her run away, for one, and besides - she had been out on her own plenty of times before today.

He knew there was always danger to this kind of existence. Cazador had bleated on and on about this exact topic - the innate competition and envy amongst vampires, their covetousness, their endless scheming against one another. Ban had just been caught in the crossfire.

All this power, all the things he’d given up, all the grief he’d caused her, and for what? He had failed her. Again.

Undeserving. Unworthy. Never enough.

If he could be enough for only one thing, he hoped it would be saving her.

He cast his mind out, searching for hers once again. The now-familiar silence greeted him and was almost comforting. Better that than feeling something like her pain as Vel put his hands on her, or her dying thoughts-

No. She’ll be fine. She has to be.

He needed to keep telling himself that, if he was to keep functioning.

He made a promise to himself to take her everywhere, once this was over.

Ban awakened when the stake was pulled from her chest. She watched in abject horror as it slowly retracted from her body, feeling every inch of it drag in her flesh. It took some time to fully regain consciousness, the wound taking its time to stitch closed. She was dumbfounded. How am I alive? They staked me! Her thoughts were interrupted by the laughter of her captors, and the clanking of chains. A large iron door creaked as it slammed shut.

She realized she was sitting on the floor, manacled to the walls of what seemed to be a dungeon. Her wrists sizzled within the metal bands and it dawned on her that they were pure silver. Biting back the scream of pain that threatened to erupt from her throat, Ban made an attempt to tug on the manacles. Her skin burned, red-hot and blistering, and she immediately stopped, adjusting her posture to ensure the silver no longer touched her skin.

Stuck, without any means of escape, her thoughts turn to Astarion. Does he think I left him again? That I smiled and lied and snuck away at first chance? No. Surely not. He’s looking for me. He must be insane with worry.

Her concern for him was so strong, it broke through the haze of her panic and fear and it finally occurred to her to expand her mind outwards, letting tendrils of thought reach out for him.

She touched his mind, softly, like a caress.

He was about to turn away from the window when he felt her. The touch of her mind was tentative and she was in a great deal of pain. He rushed to envelop her mind with his, to shield her from the worst of it.

Ban? Are you alright?

For a moment, silence. And then, I was staked.

Astarion had thought as much. He’d presumed the extended silence meant she had been incapacitated somehow; a stake would do the trick.

I thought I was dead. But then they pulled it out, and I’m alive, but I can’t get out.

A stake can’t kill you, my love. It can only incapacitate you until it is removed.

Astarion shared his vision with her, showing her the city beneath him, attempting to supplant her feelings of pain with something, anything else.

Ban’s agony inevitably bled into him; he could feel the bite of the silver manacles against his own wrists. He ignored it. He had felt much worse, and he would gladly carry as much of her pain as possible.

Where are you?

Ban sent him an image of a dingy cell. He could smell the odiferous surroundings, could make out the dark, damp dungeon walls. She must be in Vel’s mansion, then.

She winced a little as her arms began to tire and she sagged against the manacles. He wrapped his mind more tightly around hers, hoping sharing the pain might somehow lessen her burden.

I’m coming, he vowed.

I know, love.

Her faith in him flooded their connection, unyielding, carrying no hint of uncertainty. The revelation made his heart swell with joy.

He didn’t sever the connection, holding her throughout the night.

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cf8wrk4u-us · 4 months

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How The Lost Light Canceled The Hunger Games

Summary: To a Cybertronian, 200 years is nothing, barely a foot note in this peaceful time where bot are trying to rebuild their world and society.

But 200 years is a lot to humans though, 200 years is a lot for Earth in general.

Things change, humanity changes.

And as Cybertron will learn, not for the better.

But this is something the members of the Lost Light wouldn't stand for.

(Based on these ask given to @yes-i-write-fanfiction

https://www.tumblr.com/yes-i-write-fanfiction/735322098308890624/in-honor-of-the-ballad-of-songbirds-and-snakes?source=share

We're on a flat, open stretch of ground, a plain of hard packed dirt.

Behind the tributes across from me, | can see nothing, indicating either a steep downward slope or even cliff. To my right lies a lake. To my left and back, spars piney woods. This is where Haymitch would want me to go.

Immediately.

I hear his instructions in my head. “Just clear out, put as much distance as you can between yourselves and the others, and find a source of water”

But it’s tempting, so tempting, when I see the bounty waiting there before me. And I know that if I don’t get it, someone else will. That the Career Tributes who survive the bloodbath will divide up most of these life-sustaining spoils. Something catches my eye. There, resting on a mound of blanket rolls, is a silver sheath of arrows and a bow, already strung, just waiting to be engaged. That’s mine, I think. It’s meant for me.

I’m fast. I can sprint faster than any of the girls in our school although a couple can beat me in distance races. But this forty-yard length, this is what I am built for. I know I can get it, I know I can reach it first, but then the question is how quickly can I get out of there? By the time I’ve scrambled up the packs and grabbed the weapons, others will have reached the horn, and one or two I might be able to pick off, but say there’s a dozen, at that close range, they could take me down with the spears and the clubs. Or their own powerful fists.

Still, I won't be the only target. I’m betting many of the other tributes would pass up a smaller girl, even one who scored an eleven in training, to take out their more fierce adversaries.

Haymitch has never seen me run. Maybe if he had he’d tell me to go for it. Get the weapon. Since that’s the very weapon that might be my salvation. And I only see one bow in that whole pile. I know the minute must be almost up and will have to decide what my strategy will be and I find myself positioning my feet to run, not away into the stir rounding forests but toward the pile, toward the bow.

I notice Peeta, he’s about five tributes to my right, quite a fair distance, still I can tell he’s looking at me and I think he might be shaking his head. But the sun’s in my eyes and-

CRASH!

A symphony of broken glass and metal erupted across the arena, the once sunny and clear blue sky darkens into a mess of pixelated screens and crumpling scaffolding. But that's not what had our attention.

From the growing crack in the forcefield was a large aircraft, far bigger than the Capital hovercraft that had brought us to the arena. It was colored in a bright orange red and yellow with tinted dark glass on its front, so massive was its size that it literally scraped the sides of the entrance it cashed through. Sending more of the broken structure to crash down.

My breath picked up, heart hammering in my chest as I saw the craft get closer and closer to us, I noted absently how its shadow easily shaded over me the rest of the tributes. Practically eclipsing the whole arena.

A part of me screamed to move, to run, I thought of images of a hawk as it swooped over a desperate rodent. But the rational part of myself firmly and calmly reminded me that I needed to stay still on the circle before me or I would end up in pieces from the land mines.

But even that became a physical struggle as the aircraft landed sending a heavy gust of wind that threatened to blow tributes back from their stands. I braced my knees and even as I couldn’t stay on I grasped to stay right on the circle. In fact I noticed how others did the same , but a few weren’t successful. Such as one male tribute, from District 5 I believed, who was sent tumbling off. I gave a quick look from my position, ready to hear and see a mess of explosions…but nothing happened.

Even the District 5 tribute, whose face had paled, was now looking confused at the fact he wasn’t a mess against the grass.

The gong hadn’t gone off, yet the mines were not active, so what had the trigger time run out?

Has the Hunger Games begun?

In my head the passing thought came of how this could just be a scenario made by the Gamemakers.

That perhaps the games already started and here I was just standing like easy prey.

But as I heard another groan of metal from the collapsing field above, even I had to admit that was a stupid idea.

Even so, then what was happening?!

Finally the craft opened and a bridge slid down, then stepping out with a thump of metal and heavy footsteps were what I can only name as giants.

Giants covered, no, made of metal!

Then it barely took me a second to recognize what these beings were.

Transformers.

In our history books it always seemed that throughout Panem past and even before the creation of the country, humans have always been each other's greatest enemies. But as stated in our history books, thousands of years ago, there was another race of beings that almost wiped out the planet and the entire human race with it.

Aliens from another world, giant transforming robots known as Cybertronians.

Beings of metal brutality and cold indifference, a warring species who brought their conflict with one another to Earth and put humans right in the crossfires of it.

Only leaving once almost irreparable damage was done to the planet.

As a child and learning about them in class I sometimes would look to the night sky in terror at the thought that these aliens were still out there. Just hiding among the deceptively beautiful stars.

But after losing my father, struggling to hold what was left of my family together, and the helpless dread that came with the annual Reaping; I learned rather quickly that the monsters in real life were far scarier than that of thousand-year-old metal terrors that hadn’t been seen in ages.

What was there to fear of beings who hadn’t been interested in Earth for centuries?

How ironic that my only fear had been my fellow humans when it came to surviving the arena.

Four stepped out from the ship, taking the lead was a fiery red and orange mech whose colors matched the design of the ship. Next to him came the largest of the group was colored a deep blue and red with white high shoulder guards on each side. Besides them was the shortest of the group of Cybertronians, his dark armored body barely reaching the orange one's waist and who unlike his companions didn’t have a visible face of sorts but a blue visor that fitted their red and white helmet. And finally from behind was an imposing gray and black figure, whose armor may appear more subdued in coloring and design than his group, his helmet a simple flat triangular design, nonetheless was buff and strapping. Power practically screaming from just his image alone, and when his red eyes gazed over to us I couldn't help but shiver under their intensity. Not feeling any better when I noticed a sort of dark blaster on its right arm.

He seemed familiar, his image perhaps one I had seen in my aging textbook?

I didn't have the time to ponder further as they finally stepped away from the ship and made it to the grassy field of the arena.

Like earlier I shifted my legs for a sprint, forgetting all about the food and weapons, my eyes shifting to the large expanse of forest that would be the only way to try to avoid whatever these stalking giants had in stored for us.

It was the only plan I could think of, the safest choice, and I’m sure Haymitch would agree.

Is he seeing this? Is the Capital? The whole country? Do they know where being invaded-

“Hello, there”!

I was taken off guard as the orange and red Transformer, the presumably leader of the group, called out to us. His voice was jovial and the smile that spread across his metal face was friendly.

Nothing that gave me a reason to trust him.

His grin persisted as he marched closer only shifting as several tributes cried out and scrambled to escape.

“Wait! Wait”! The giant robot hurriedly said “It's okay”!

I didn’t stop in my sprint till I made it to Peeta, not complaining as he firmly grasped my wrist and pulled me into a hurried pace.

We needed to leave, put as much distance as we could from these metal monsters.

“We're not here to hurt you”! The Transformer said in a surprisingly desperate tone “We're here to help you! Save you! Too Stop The Hunger Games”!

I nearly fell as Peeta stopped.

“Peeta”! I hissed trying to tug him towards the forest, but he refused to move instead looking dumbfounded at the robot. As if he believed what it was saying.

But as I looked around I could see the other tributes had stopped as well, with the ones who made it to the woods actually peeking from the edge of the treeline.

The red and orange robot's face morphed into a softer expression before he went down on one knee.

I gestured I couldn’t help but recognize from my sister Prim when she approached the small scared animals she nursed back to health or in my mom to the anxious sickly children that were brought to be treated at our home.

This Transformer, this giant of a being, was trying to make himself smaller so that the tiny humans before him wouldn’t be frightened.

That…didn’t sound like the hostile warring species from my history class.

I stopped trying to move Peeta.

Seeing that he had our attention the robot spoke again, his voice soft but clear.

“We're here to save you, you won’t have to die today, not for some game, and especially not for your Capital” he stood up before looking at the smaller Transformer “Rewind, are we ready”?

“Just about” they, Rewind, answered “Though before we start mind stepping a little to the left”?

“Huh, why”? Asked the leader

“Because captain, if we were trying to sell the whole “we don’t mean any harm” image maybe we shouldn’t be showing how we trashed their enclosure”? Rewind said

The apparent captain looked to the shattered entrance they had created before sheepishly smiling “Yeah…better not let them see that yet”

“Doubt it will make much a a difference” said the gray and black Transformer, his voice was sharp and curt “No doubt their Capital already knows about the damage done to their little arena”

“This difference is Megs is that we're making a statement” said the Captain “One that has to be said as soon as possible, ready Rewind”?

“Whenever you are” said the smaller bot, tapping the side of his helmet.

I was confused why he did that till I noticed a redlight shinning on the side of his helmet, a video recorder perhaps?

With that the red and orange giant stood straight ahead, his gaze intense as he looked at Rewind “Citizens of the Capitol and Panem, we come in peace”!

CRACK! CRASH!

At that moment more scaffolding and material decided to come tumbling down into the arena as if to loudly object to the statement.

I winced at the noise and off to the side I could see the largest of the Transformers actually pinch his brow in an exasperated manner. A scene I could almost find funny.

Despite this though the captain gave only a nervous chuckle before speaking again “This is Rodimus Prime, and despite our rather abrupt entrance, we have only the best of intention for our arrival” he face then became more serious “While I understand that as of now most of the citizens of this country recognize us in a hostile light, we Autobots, many members of the Cybertronian race have viewed Earth and its people as sentient like minded beings. Ones who needed protection and safety when our war did unfortunately touch your planet. With some humans even becoming valued allies who fought besides us during such a perilous time” Rodimus stopped then, his blue glass eyes dimming even “After the war we left Earth, both out of a need to protect this planet from any further conflict we may have had and out of respect for humanity who wanted to independently run their society once it was rebuilt, a wish we were determined to honor” his voice then harden as he continued “But recent discoveries and findings have forced us to decide to break this arrangement, this biggest being your so called Hunger Games” Rodimus practically spat that word out “A society whose higher caste who not only feeds greedily on it’s citizens but demands blood tributes out of its children, making a game out of their very lives! It will not continue! Not if I can help it”!

I watched transfixed as he raised a fist to his fiery chassis “I call an end to the Hunger Games! Starting now”! He calmed “Again this isn’t a message made out maliciously, I want more than anything to resolve this peacefully, I hope you can believe me citizens of Panem”

Rewind then made a gesture and Rodimus visibly relaxed, even giving a small laugh.

“So did we get all that”?

“Sent it right to our sources, hopefully it was enough to get it to the other Districts but you can bet those big cogs in the Capitol must have seen it”

“That's good” Rodimus nodded before beginning to walk “All we got to do is wait for now”

“You know Optimus Prime isn’t going to be happy about the stunt we pulled today” the gray and black one, Megs, spoke again.

“Well Optimus shouldn’t have been dragging his pedes over this,” responded Rodimus “But if anything just say you were following the captains orders, I’ll take the fall”

“I highly doubt he believed that” the blue and red Transformer said

Rodimus actually shrugged before looking our direction again, he gave another reassuring smile “Just hang tight” he said “I almost got you all out of this”

No one responded for the longest time, till in a quiet voice spoke out.

“Is this really happening”?

I couldn’t pinpoint who spoke, but that voice echoed a question I was asking myself.

Was this really happening?

I recalled the proclamation made by the Transformer not even a minute ago.

An end to the Hunger Games.

No more Hunger Games.

The games were canceled.

Was this really happening? Barely a few minutes earlier I was ready to run for my life and fight against my fellow tributes in a bloody arena, but now I was being told that we didn’t have to fight by a giant metal alien.

I felt Peeta shudder beside me and when I looked at him I could see how wet his eyes were getting, he covered his mouth trying to muffle a sob. Without thinking I pulled him close and let his weight sag against mine.

I was ready to let our time in the tower be our final goodbye, knowing that the chances of us making it from the Cornucopia was slim at best and remaining allies had an even smaller chance.

But saying I wasn’t relieved would be a lie, I was relieved that the games hadn’t started, relieved that Peeta and I were still together, relieved that we were going to be okay.

And if a few tears and raspy breaths left my mouth I wouldn’t find myself ashamed for it.

When we were calm enough to pull away I looked to the other tributes; most stood with their Districts. Some crying and clinging to one another, a few who decided to look through the packs of supplies littered around the arena, but most just staring at the Transformers that stood by their ship.

Well most of them.

The apparent captain, Rodimus, was actually walking leisurely towards the pond. Then literally popping open his chest cavity pulled out a pole of some kind that had a string at the end of it.

It took me a second to realize what he was doing.

“Is he…”? Peeta started

This Transformer, a giant metal warrior, a captain that led his own crew, and just broke into the Capitals arena and called an end to the Hunger Games; just plopped himself at the end of the water and began to fish!

Peeta actually coughed a laugh besides me “Can robots even eat fish”?

I didn’t know and wasn’t sure to find out.

But surprisingly enough Peeta let go of my hand and actually got towards the robot!

“Peeta”?! I whispered harshly “What are you doing”?

“I want to get a closer look at them” he said

“Peeta, wait”! I said urgently “They’re Transformers, it might not be safe too-”

“They saved our lives Katniss and you heard them, they don’t want to hurt us” Peeta said but before he kept moving he held out a hand to me, encouraging me to take it.

I hesitated though.

Despite what these Transformers had done for us, despite their promises, I still didn’t feel comfortable putting myself in a squishing range of them.

Peeta gave me a disappointed yet understanding look and continued on. Surprisingly even some tributes began to take his lead, forming a small crowd.

The bot, Rodimus, began to notice their approach and gave a large smile at them.

“Hello there,”! he said

None of the tributes worked up the nerve to greet him back verbally but I could see Peeta giving his own smile in return along with an energetic wave of his hand.

A part of me had to keep myself from rolling my eyes, it was just like Peeta to try to get people to like him. The games may have been over and these giants claimed not to mean any harm but Peeta was still trying to play it safe.

He really was clever like that.

But ultimately it wasn’t Peeta who opened up to the metal giant.

“You know how to fish”?

This came from the young 12 year old from District 4.

“Yup” Rodimus said “Back when I was stationed on Earth a good friend of mine taught me, I got really into it after that” He ended that by adjusting his line a little.

The District 4 boy's eyes widened before giving a curious gaze at the pond next to them.

“Do you think there’s anything in there”?

“I hope, in either case I’m just glad to be fishing again”! The robot said “I told myself that if I ever came to Earth again it would be one of the first things I did”! He stopped before asking the Tributes besides him “Do any of you fish”?

Again most stayed silent but the District 4 didn’t hesitate to raise his hand and say “My district is responsible for most of the fishing done, some of my father and uncles are even allowed on the boats to go to sea for the bigger stuff, we even have competitions during the season”

Rodimus' eyes seemed to glow brighter “Oh, so you're a bit of an expert huh”? He asked leaning closer “So what's the biggest fish you’ve caught so far”?

The young boy's face went red, from the freckles of his nose to the bouncy curls on his head.

“Um, just a couple of mackerel with my dads old fishing rod ” he said quietly almost embarrassed “I catch a lot more with nets with my friends”

“Mackerel! Wow that impressive”! The giant robot expressed eagerly “Most of my fishing is done in freshwater, I say the biggest I got was just 5 pound bluegill but boy was he a tough one-hey I didn't catch your name by the way”

“Luca” said the boy “Luca Alberts”

As the red and orange Transformer continued to chatter on about his fishing experiences the group of huns around him seemed to relax more and more, feeling at ease his casual attitude. And it seemed to affect some of the other tributes too who had previously kept their distance.

I moved closer to where Peeta was in the group, catching more of the conversation made by Rodimus to the District 4 tribute.

“So do you really hope to catch anything”? Asked the boy, Luca

“Who knows? Best way to pass the time anyway” Rodimus responded

“You might want to be careful” a voice suddenly said

It was one of the male tributes, I didn’t recognize him initially given he looked like another of the 14 year olds that were taken into the games. Then recalling a yellow suit I realized this must have been the tribute from District 3, his bright yellow dress shirt being the only thing that stood out in his rather dull interview with Cesar.

“You don’t know what might be inside the pond” the District 3 Tribute explained “The arenas are supposed to be set up with all kinds of traps, ones operated by the Gamemakers and ones set loose like the Mutts”

“Mutts” Rodmius said quietly “Right, those lab made animals they make” his happy expression turned into a somber one before his smile returned “Well, it’ll be fine! If there's anything dangerous lurking in these water, just trust your friend Rodimus to help”

He added a thumbs up that honestly felt corny, but seemed to please the younger tributes.

“I’d like to fish too”! Luca announced

Rodimus hummed unsure “Well, I only have one-”

“It’s fine” he stated before going to the nearest pack and rummaging through it “There pretty simple to make if you have the right supplies”

Rodimus nodded “Then I'll trust the expert on this”

The boy gave a proud grin though mad a disappointed sound at not fighting anything before moving onto the next pack.

From where I stood I gave another glance at Rodimus and his robotic teamates.

To be honest it wasn’t enough to say these were robots, the Capital miniature cleaning or delivering drones definitely fit the definition. There movements stiff and uniform, moved with purpose in their singular task.

But these Transformers, they moved as a human would. Maybe not with the same fluidity but unrestricted, like the armor they were wasn't just something attached to their bodies but actually a part of them. Even the metal on their faces, despite how alien they looked, moved so easily. And given Rodimus examples, with so much expression and versatility.

How could metal and gears and inanimate material move and soften so much like flesh, like actual breathing beings.

Because they were alive obviously….

For years I had it in my head that these aliens were nothing but cold hearted machines of war. That's what our history books told us, showed us.

But then again those books were written by the Capital.

And the Capital says a lot of things.

I looked at the large Transformers before me; Rodimus chatting with the other tributes, the smaller one Rewind holding the side of his face as he gazed around so obviously still recording, and finally to the two largest bots who stood rather detached from the rest of the group.

I part of me wondered how different things have been if Rodimus and his people had come sooner.

Would the first Rebellion have been successful, would the Capital still have demanded to Hunger Games, would their even have been a Hunger Games, would-?

My hypothetical thoughts were cut short when a piercing scream went through the air.

Turning I could see some of the tributes scattering away from the Cornucopia as the male District 2 tribute came barreling out of the entrance swinging a large sword.

“Stop! What are you doing”?!! cried Rodimus, quickly getting up and abandoning his fishing pole “Why are you fighting! Your free now! No one is making you kill anyone”!

The brutish tribute, Cato if I member his name, looked at the robot and actually gave a snarky smile.

“Are you stupid”? he asked “Do you really think you can stop the games? That we'll let you”!

From behind him I can see more of the Career Tributes gather behind him, each brandishing their own weapons.

“We're here for a reason! And I'm not about to let you take that away from us”!

More tributes scattered as the pack of Carriers ready their weapons and stalk forward.

Despite everything, despite all of Rodimus hopeful promises, I'm sure that there's going to be death even if these aliens did call for an end of the games.

Really how stupid was I to believe them, how stupid I was for not grabbing a weapon, or not just running when I had the chance.

“That's enough”! Rodimus ordered taking a step forward, barely restrained anger in his voice “Stop this now or-”

But already Cato was rushing forward sword already at the closest, hapless target.

Luca.

The District 4 tribute quest for fishing line and other supplies had put him just close enough to Cato line of attack, he kneeled by an open bag, to startled or afraid to run.

Rodimus quickly moved , the ground quaking in his hurried step forward. Avoiding get accidentally trampled on I didn't notice when Peeta left my side till I saw him rushing past Rodimus bright orange feet right for Luca.

The instance was too fast and too slow at the same time, Peeta running to the boy, taking him his arms to try and pull him away from the attack, the sword swinging down and blood sprinkling out.

I can feel myself yelling, Peeta name clawing its way out of my mouth as I saw the sword about to swing back down again.

BOOM!

A roaring blast echoed through the air as a bright hot beam of purple shot over the heads of the Carrier tributes.

The arena grew hot, it felt like the very air was singed from that one blast. Leaving A smoking crater in the far off distance that no doubt could have easily sizzled away any puny human in its path.

It felt hard to breath and my stomach threatened to lurch the meager breakfast I stomached back at the tower. But still I turned my head to look at the cause of the blast.

The gray and black mech.

Everyone was silent, afraid too move. Even the Carrier tributes, who had been a savage pack thirsty for our blood were left shaking. The District 1 tribute actually scared off his feet, ass to the ground as he look terrified at the glowering red eyed Transformer.

"You wanna try that again”? the Transformer said, his voice like a rumbling storm, his still smoking cannon leveled at the group of Carriers “I came here because I thought I was saving innocent humans from a cruel game made by a tyrannical society, not a rabid creature who sees fit to attack his own kind"

Cato stupidly tries to argue "Its the Hunger Games-"!

"And as my captain stated, there are no more games from here on out" said the bot, but his face actually looked to soften a bit "Your a Carrier tribute, from what I understand, you were raised for this, all of you" he cast his eyes to the rest of the group "Raised to murder, slaughter, and entertain...but understand that from here on out the games are done….but if you feel so free to continue fighting than do it"

The cannon lights up.

"Come forward and strike, make your District proud, make your owners proud"

Cato seemed to be hyperventilating, he turned to his fellow Carrier tributes but they were all shrinking away under the gaze of the giant robot aiming their weapons at them.

All of these Carrier tributes, made into these roughness killing machines for the benefit of the games, reduced to scared children.

I find it laughable if I wasn't fixed on a moaning Peeta lying on the top of a silent Luca.

But I didn't dare approach till Cato, with an almost wheezy cry, squeezed his blade one more time before throwing it away.

The others following his example.

I rushed forward trying to evaluate the damage, kneeling besides Peeta I carefully tried to move him on his back and off of Luca. The boy looked fine but I startled to see that Peeta had a long slash cutting across his right arm. Cutting deeply by his elbow before becoming shallow by his shoulder. Bleeding very heavily.

I did my best to press on the wound, the warmth stickiness of it pooling between my fingers.

Peeta eyes were open with pain but still he managed a strangled “Katniss…”

“You idiot”! I couldn't help but snap “What were you thinking”?!

He was so close to getting out! Getting out alive at least!

A shadow overtook us and I looked to see both Rodimus and Rewind staring down at us.

Rodimus was clear with horror as he looked at Peeta's wound.

“Scrap” I heard him mutter, I didn’t know what it meant but couldn't help but share his sentiment.

The sleeve of my coat was already soaked with blood. I knew I couldn't continue on like this, then stupidly I member there was a pack besides me.

I grabbed at it hastily looking through, cursing as I only found a few crackers, a empty canteen, and a pair of socks.

Despite this I stretched the socks as far as I could, rembering from my mother and Prims work that no matter what I had to press to keep the blood in! Huh, even with something so obvious I still was failing.

“Here” a voice said and I felt a weight besides me.

It was the young girl from District 11, Rue, and in her hands was a roll of bandages.

Quickly grasping it I thanked her and made to work trying to wrap the wound. Rue wordlessly held up the arm gently to let me encircle it further, though Peeta gave painful gasps still.

“Let's try tying part of the arm” said Rue tapping just above his elbow “It'll help with the bleeding”

I nodded following her instructions, just like I would if it were my sister and mother. I was never a gifted healer like them and I didn't have confidence in the wrappings as I still saw red peaking through the white of the bandages. But I was still too glad that it stopped spilling on the grass.

The shadow above us got bigger and I felt Rue press up to me while Luca fliched.

“Will he survive”? asked the gray and black Transformer

“I-I don't know” Rodimus said “Oh, slag, we really should have brought Ratchet”!

“To be fair he may nor have been as helpful considering this is a human and not a Cybertronian patient”

“Yeah but-will you put that thing away Megatron”! Rodimus suddenly yelled in frustration

Megatron.

I felt my blood run cold as I finally realized why I recognized this specific Transformer.

Images of him, him and his Decepticons, littered the chapter of my history book.

Describing one of the leaders of the two waring Cybertronian factions, this bot name was meantioned as to put a face to the carnage that was the species of Cybertronians. Deemed so evil and callus for his not only his utter disregard of human life but in his delighted in the utter suffering and destruction to the organic life on this planet. Pictures and accounts left no room for nightmarish imagination.

He barely looked any different, I could still recognize him.

This was him.

This was Megatron.

I didn't hesitate to push myself in front of Peeta and the younger two. Despite knowing I was helpless to anything he want to do to us.

“It was just too prove a point” said the metal ravager “Wasn't even looking to maim”

“That's not the point Megs-”! Rodimus would have continued if the whole arena didn't begin to shake causing even the giant robots to become unsteady on their feet.

Suddenly the forest erupted in a burst of flames! And the once tranquil pond bubbled ominously, growing inside till literal waves were sloshing closer to the field the stood.

“I believe the Gamemakers are not too happy with us interrupting there game” said the blue and red bot named Mags as he approached his captain.

Getting a serious face Rodimus loudly ordered “Grab the humans, were getting out of here”!

Rodimus kneeled before us “We got to leave” he said before cupping his metal hand and holding it low “I know your friends hurt but we gotta move you guys”

There's a lot I can distrust Rodimus for, being a Cybertronian for 1. and having Megatron on his crew for 2.

But seeing the earnestness in his blue glass eyes and knowing staying in the arena meant only death, I could only silently shuffle Peeta onto the bright red metal with Rue and Luca following behind us. The metal felt oddly warm beneath me.

“That's it little buddies ” Rodimus said encouragingly “There we go”

His fingers curling as the only warning before Rodimus lifted us up to a dizzying hight, from their I could see the other bots Mags and Rewind collect the rest of the tributes with surprising gentleness.

Something I also noticed is Megatron himself, simply standing there and staring at the Carrier tributes who panicked as the ground around them began to muddy as the tide of the water lapped at their feet.

I guessed that the metal destroyer maybevwanted to finish the job,but to my surprise he leaned down and scooped up the scared tributes.

Soon enough Rodimus and the others rushed us towards their ship

It started dark before opening to a control room full of machinery and screen monitors.

“Magnus, get us ready for lift off” said Rodimus before going towards a large glass tank and gentle settling us inside there. Rewind did the same to the two tributes he held and the bot Mags/Magnus set down the rest.

There was some hesitancy as Rodimus saw Megatron with the Carrier tributes but he only made a clicking noise before jumping into one of the seats, no doubt the Captain chair.

“Are we ready”?

“Thrusters on captain”!

I barely felt the ship move but on the monitors is clearly showed us soaring above the almost decimated arena and lift towards the dome. I shuddered and continued to hold Peeta as once again the ship jolted as it scrapped against the size of the force field.

“Rodimus, I'm detecting several hostile flight carriers coming our way”

“Guess they really didn't appreciate our little peace demonstration” Rodimus said dryly as he gripped the steering device.

The monitors showed what was obviously Capital shuttles coming at the ship.

There was a violent shudder from the side of the ship.

“Rodimus…should we engage” said Magnus quietly

Rodimus voice was determined as he said “No, we agreed we weren't taking any lives today” but then an almost cheerful tone came to his voice “But I got something else in mind”!

The ship gave a jerk and I felt myself bracing against the surface of the tank.

“They want to chase us, then we'll go somewhere they can't follow”!

Despite the optimistic way he spoke it was becoming worryingly hard to breath.

“Rodimus” Megatron said in a stressed tone “Rember the elevation, the humans-”

“I think I know how to transport humans” Rodimus said sarcastically, but I couldn't help but notice that it was getting easier to breath.

I coughed and checked on Peeta, concerned how paled he was though with how alert he looked I was still hopeful.

The jostling stopped and soon it was a smooth ride. Though not a comfortable one as Megatron gazed at all of us within the tank.

I did my best to meet his gaze fearlessly, my eyes flickering to the scared Carrier tributes still in his hands. The squirmed and cried, terrified to be in the hands of a titan who could easily squish them.

The one-sided stare off was broken by Rodimus hysterical laughter “We did it! We did it”! the bot practically leaped from his seat to fist pump the air “We saved the humans and showed those higher cassette up”

“Yes” Magnus said in a tired voice “With 23 anxious young humans and 1 injured tribute in our care”

“Well, we can figure it out” said Rodimus jovially “Doesn't this prove we can do anything”?

“Rodimus-” started Magnus

“Oh, we need to get ready to dock”!

The way Magnus sighed you would think he was a tired parent to a rambunctious child and not the crew member following his captain.

There was another shudder and soon a bright light entered the hall we had come from, soon Rodimus left his seat to the tank we were in.

He was all smiles as he began to roll the very platform our tank was on towards the entrance.

“Your safe now, your safe” he kept murmuring.

I wondered if it was more for his assurance then for our sakes.

The light at the end of the hall was blinding but when we emerged from it a roar of cheers followed.

“WE'RE BACK”! yelled Rodimus

As my eyes adjusted to the light I could see we were in a large hangar of some sort and inside it a group of Transformers stood, bots of versions colors and sizes all whooped and hollered in congratulations to Rodimus and his group.

Once we got closer several of them surged forward.

“You actually got them”? said one with sharp helmet a grey face and red marking around his eyes.

“Ha! I wish I could have seen the faceplate of those Capital jerks when you burst in there” said one bot who only had a single yellow glass eye that made up his greenish blue helm.

“Are these humans”? one small white and blue bot asked as they struggled to look at them from the height of our platform “They're so cute”!

A purple Transformers with a narrow face and red eyes leaned forward “One of thems injured”

“Scrap”! Rodimus said “Ratchet?! Where's Ratchet”?

“I'm here”! called a gruff voice, a red and white mech pushed through the crowd “What happened”?

“Um, we ran into some complications” said Rodimus gesturing to Peeta “Can you help him”?

“A human patient” the robot frowned “I can try, but I can't promise I'll be as much use given how long it's been and what supplies I have ir should I say don't have”

“Haha, he just being modest” Rodimus said nervously looking at Katniss “But he'll be in safe servos”

That obviously didn't assure me and both bots could tell as I held Peeta close to me.

The one called Ratchet came forward before lowering his hand into the tank, tributes did scramble back till it was only me and Peeta before the metal hand that was as big as a storage door.

“I see your worried for your friend, I understand” he said “ But I need to take a look at him, it's the best way to ensure his wound is properly treated”

“Your not a human” I found myself saying “You don't know what your doing”

“This isn’t my first time with an injured human, it's just been some time and I don't exactly have what I need….” He stopped before saying “He looks like aid was administered, was this your work”?

I nodded but admitted “I had some help”

Ratchet hummed and nodded before nudging his hand more instantly towards me “You can come along, perhaps you could help me treat him”

I gulped looking between him, the hand, and a grimacing Peeta. Then finally helped push Peeta onto the outstretched hand before placing myself onto the cold metal of the palm. I braced myself as once again lifted by a metal giant.

Ratchet began to quickly walk away with us, but I could still hear Rodimus speaking.

“Megatron make sure you keep those tributes separated” he instructed curtly, obviously talking about the Carrier group.

His voice became more lighter as he said “As for the rest of you, I want to welcome you all to the Lost Light”!!!!

#transformers #transformers idw #transformers mtmte #hunger games #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #rodimus #rewind #ultra magnus #megatron #ratchet #crossover #the hunger games

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