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#nothing monster moth thing

angelsrcute · 1 month

Text

LOVE ME WHILE YOUR WRISTS ARE BOUND. 𝜗𝜚

𝜗𝜚 — who'd lay their eyes on the prettiest person, you. Shining brighter than the others, and where do shiny and valuable things belong? in a box. According to a legend, sirens sing in a sweet voice to lure sailors into the water or just create chaos and destruction of their ships.

𝜗𝜚 — Who fell in love with you at first sight, wanting to possess you. So, while you were exploring a deserted island at night, you heard a sweet lullaby, a guy sitting on a rock. You couldn't help but be drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Such a captivating appearance, not like some monster– but very divine? You felt like something was messing with your brain.

𝜗𝜚 — You don't really remember why you're laying on the ground nor why you're getting fucked by someone. Shit, he's hot anyways, you wonder what happened to your ship. Legs thrown over their shoulders as they fuck you, you bet you wouldn't be able to walk straight tomorrow. Now that you think….why does the person look different as if they're not human at all. It's nothing, you think. You're worrying too much.

𝜗𝜚 — Who pepper kisses on your body, worshipping you like some treasure, fangs biting down on your skin, drawing blood. Ouch, their tongue licking up the blood, savouring your taste. Webbed hands digging into your waist.

𝜗𝜚 — Who fill you up so much that there's a visible bulge on your stomach, webbed hands pressing down, making you whimper. Your whole body feels numb. Their pretty mate, no one else's, a blush forming on their face at the thought of fucking a baby into you. You'd stay with them forever then!

𝜗𝜚 — Who's going to keep you in their little home, after all, humans are quite weak and die easily. You wouldn't be able to survive in the depths of the ocean. Well, who cares if they have to mess with your memories, making you think that you're their pretty little wife. You don't need anyone else but them right? The love of your life, perhaps you'd learn to love them without all these hallucinations. As for what happened to your ship, you're currently missing.

"Mine, my human, mine to love, I wouldn't let anyone else steal my treasure."

Whoever you think fits.

#dom character #sub reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #twst smut #honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #twisted wonderland smut #honkai star rail x reader #jjk smut #jujitsu kaisen smut #obey me smut #bsd smut #bungou stray dogs smut #tw dark content #tw mind control #𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐄'𝐒 :: 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 (ᵔ◡ᵔ)

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flowersandbigteeth · 3 months

Note

Now I’m thinking about how cute of a story it’d be if a human woman reader had a preference towards monster men, but she kept getting used by a lot of monster fetishists to fill their own fantasies. Getting her heart broken constantly as they didn’t see her as a being with real feelings. And eventually she gives up…But of course x monster comes into her life and tries his best to court her cause he actually does love her and see her as a person. Reader of course is very jaded and thinks he’ll use and abuse her too, just like all the others.

If you’re still interested in writing somber stories with a happily ever after in the end, something like this could be fun to explore. The ugly exploitive relationship dynamics taken onto human women by monster men.

Like just imagine reader is sitting in a park, having a picnic, a monster comes up to her, is pleasant, and reader thinks that this is going to be “the one” finally, and gets her heart broken again when he asks her for a one night stand. Or even worse…hands her a card to work at a human x monster exclusive private fetish club…

Um...so I ended up with something close to this, but kind of with a different spin. I've been wanting to do a mothman for soooooo long and this just came together in the right way. So here he is ^_^

Mothman (Roth) x f reader

Word Count: 9.5K

General Plot: Your gargoyle crush asks you out on a date and things don't go as planned.

TW: nsfw mothman smut, moth genetalia, a lot of teeth, kidnapping, sexy pheromones, a bit of violence, reader being tied up and gagged, revenge, mating and soft yandere vibes, bad boyfriends

“Five, ten, fifteen…fifteen,” you sighed counting your tips as you sat on the curb outside the kitchen of the Italian restaurant you worked at.

Tears bubbled in your eyes as you realized you hadn’t made nearly enough to cover the rent you were already late on.

“How you doing mite,” a deep voice rumbled behind you.

You heard a squeak and then a thunk as Tyre, the chef, dumped some trash. Wiping your eyes, you peered up at him, trying to hide the redness on your cheeks. Tyre was a handsome gargoyle with slate gray skin and piercing blue eyes. He smirked as your eyes met. Sniffling, you tried to clean up your face.

“Nothing, nothing, I’m fine.”

He glanced down at the odd dollars and some change in your hand.

“Bad night?”

You sighed.

“It’s always a bad night.”

He scratched his chin, eyes traveling from the top of your head to the slip-proof shoes you had to wear.

“There’s someplace I ought to take you,” he said, eyes taking on a predatory gleam. “You like monsters, right?”

You blushed, unsure what to say now that your secret wish seemed like it might be coming true. You’d always had a crush on Tyre. He was big and strong with a rakish smile that made all the waitresses swoon.

“Um…yeah, I guess.”

“Good,” he said, grinning. “You’re off tomorrow night. I saw it on the schedule.”

You were going to beg for another shift from one of the other waitresses, but if you were only going to make a few bucks, you figured you couldn’t pass up the chance for a date with your crush.

“Yeah,” you murmured, your breath a gasp.

He pulled a phone from an apron pocket and handed it to you.

“Put your address in here. I’ll pick you up. Wear something pretty.”

Overcome, you could hardly speak, typing your address and phone number into the phone.

“See you tomorrow night, mite,” he winked before walking back inside.

The door slam made you jump, but your heart was already pattering. Tyre had finally noticed you! Ever since you’d started that job, you’d been in love with him. It was true. You did like monsters, but not in a weird way. You were curious, but you were too shy ever to ask Tyre any questions about himself. You didn’t want him to think you were a weirdo fetishist trying to get in his pants for a thrill. But finally, he’d noticed you and asked you on a date!

Despite the lack of money in your pocket, you hopped up from the curb with a pep in your step. Maybe something was finally going right for you for once.

When you arrived home, you frowned at the yellow notice taped to your door.

EVICTION NOTICE: VACATE THE PREMISES WITHIN 15 DAYS OR YOU WILL BE REMOVED

Your breath caught in your throat, and you wondered if you should call Tyre and cancel your date. Walking inside, you frowned. Your apartment was small, if you could even call it an apartment. It was only one room with no kitchen or bathroom. You had to use the common toilet down the hall, and you either ate food you brought home from the restaurant or cooked noodles on your hotplate. Still, you couldn’t even afford this little closet.

Where were you supposed to go? Pulling out the crumpled fifteen dollars, you stuffed it in the large mug with all your tips. You already knew how much was inside. You counted it over and over again every night, hoping it would magically bloom to a higher sum.

One hundred and fifteen dollars. That’s how much you had to figure out a new home with. While tears bit at your eyes, your feet were exhausted from running around all day, so you flopped on your dipping air mattress and fell asleep.

You woke to the next morning to your phone buzzing and grinned at the message on the screen.

“Pick you up at 9.”

Scooping up the phone, you beamed. As you dropped it on your chest, you indulged yourself in a quick fantasy. You’d go on a date, Tyre would fall madly in love with you, and then you’d move into his flat, have his little gargoyle babies, and everything would turn out just fine. This had to have happened for a reason, right? All afternoon, you skipped around your apartment, trying on your meager array of outfits for just the right one.

When 9 came around, you sat on the edge of your bed, checking and rechecking the message. 9, he did say 9, right? Right. He’ll be here.

Thirty minutes later, there was a heavy knock on the door. You tripped over yourself to answer it, eyes lighting up the moment you met the cool blue on the other side. He looked you over, a meaty hand braced against the doorframe, showing off his massive biceps.

“Look at you, mite,” he said, brushing a curl of hair from your face. “You clean up nice.”

“Ah, thanks, Tyre. It’s nothing really,” you half whispered, words having a difficult time making themselves past your lips.

“Come on,” he said, taking you by the arm. “You’re gonna have fun where we’re going.”

“Where are we going?” you asked, from the inside of Tyre’s Denali, as he cruised down a dark alley.

You had only just realized it was a little late to be going to a restaurant, so where was he taking you? He only smirked at you, eyes glittering in the dim vehicle.

“You’ll see,” was all he would say.

You should have been concerned, but the truth was you were down bad. You were about to be evicted, had hardly any friends, and no boyfriend. Your last situationship with a werewolf had been a humiliating disaster. You needed this. He pulled into a parking lot, flashing a black card, and a gate lifted, allowing you inside.

“Here we are,” he said when he parked, circling the car to help you out.

When he’d set you on the ground, he frowned for a moment, scrubbing his chin.

“Let’s’ fix this,” he said, grabbing the tight skirt you were wearing and hiking it up your hips so it was more of a mini skirt. Then he yanked on the neck of your sweater, pushing it down over your shoulders.

“What? Where are we going?” you asked, getting a little more concerned.

He only looked at you lazily, reaching a hand down to smudge the makeup at the corner of your eyes more.

“A private club. Freaky girls like you love this shit,” he assured you, though he was becoming less and less assuring.

What did he mean by “freaky girls”? You were just a normal girl. You liked reading books and cooking when you had the chance. There was nothing “freaky” about you at all.

Grabbing your shoulders with his big hands, he shoved you forward through the dark lot. Around you, large, monster-sized, luxury vehicles were parked in neat rows. When you reached an odd metal door, he knocked with his knuckles. A hatch slid open, and bright green eyes peered out.

“What do you want?”

They narrowed on Tyre.

“You’re not welcome here.”

You gulped, cheeks reddening, looking between the pair of eyes and Tyre.

“Tell Roth I brought him a new girl,” he said, “Told him I’d pay my debt.”

The eyes flicked down to you for a moment, and the door squeaked open.

“Tyre, what is going-?”

You didn’t get a chance to speak as the large, man with pale skin and green eyes snatched your wrist up and dragged you away from him.

“Tyre! Tyre!” you half shouted, confused as he jerked you down a dark hall, but looking back, the gargoyle only smiled and waved at you.

“Stop screaming. You’re disturbing the ambiance,” the man holding you in his firm fist, hissed.

When he opened his mouth, you could see sharp fangs framing straight white teeth. The rest of your words caught in your throat as he dragged you through the club.

On a large platform in the center, human women dressed in skimpy outfits danced on stage to oddly alluring music. Where the bright stage lights didn’t shine, you could see monsters of all kinds with human women clinging to them engaged in a frightening variety of sexual activity.

Three gargoyles were sharing one woman, splayed on a table. A centaur had a woman strapped to him with some sort of harness, and your eyes popped when you saw the way he used her. Your heart started to race as you put two and two together.

You’d heard about these clubs. Places where well-paying monsters could play around with human women to fulfill their fetish fantasies. Yes, you liked monsters, but you would have never stepped into a place like this, not for all the money in the world! You experienced enough creepy fetishists as a waitress. It seemed the only time anyone offered you any real money was to take you home for a night of their own entertainment.

Betrayal cut you to the core, remembering Tyre’s words. He’d brought you here to repay a debt! He never had any plan of dating you at all! You were nothing more than a trinket to be traded!

Panic startled you to your senses, and you started to fight the vampire holding you.

“LET ME GO! LET ME GO!” you screamed, jerking so hard on your wrist that you thought you might break it.

He narrowed his eyes at you.

“Jesus, that bastard. He tricked you to come here, didn’t he?” he hissed, frowning.

He paused, thinking for a second, and for a moment, you thought he might let you go.

“Still, I’d better take you to Roth and see what he wants to do with you. Can’t have you running off to the cops and blowing up our whole operation.”

Clubs like these weren’t exactly legal. Along with the girls, they usually sold drugs and were the sort of place where you could hire a shady person to do below-board jobs.

To silence your screams, and to the amusement of a few of the monsters standing nearby with drinks, he slipped the tie from around his neck and tied it tightly around your head, before he stripped off his belt and used it to secure your hands. Then he flopped you over his broad shoulder, carrying you out of the larger room up a set of stairs. You bit on the gag, desperately trying to saw away at it with your teeth, but it was no use.

You couldn’t see, bouncing on his shoulder, but you heard a door open, and then you saw it shut.

“Tyre brought you a girl, boss,” he said.

Suddenly, he flopped you on the floor, forgetting you were a fragile human. You squealed as you hit the carpet hard, pain radiating up your side. Looking up, you froze in fear. The room was dim, the edges hardly visible, the only light a small lamp on a large wooden desk. Peering past the light, you met the gaze of two glowing, red orbs on the face of a dark body you could hardly make out. All you could tell was that it looked large.

“Why’s she tied up?”

The voice was almost a hiss, like silk sheets rubbing together.

“Tyre tricked her into coming here.”

The orbs disappeared for a moment, then appeared again along with a long sigh.

“That idiot.”

“What do you want me to do with her? Dump her? Put her on the floor? She’s pretty enough. She’ll make us some money.”

Your heart pounded, as your future was being discussed without you. Dump her?

“Leave,” the voice barked, sounding irritated.

You whimpered as you heard the heavy footsteps of the vampire leaving and the door slamming behind him. There was a rustling, and the big body behind the desk grew much larger. It wasn’t a shape you recognized, two large protrusions arching over either side of its head and then two more feathery-looking ones on top. Heavy steps echoed in the quiet room as it rounded the furniture and loomed over you.

A clawed hand emerged from the darkness, clutching your chin, slowly turning it from side to side as his red eyes examined you.

“Hmm. A little flame,” he purred.

You tried to scream again, but all that came out was a muffled whimper.

The protrusions jumped as the creature chuckled. The monster kneeled down next to you, and only then, you could make out his features, just barely. His neck was thick and fuzzy, as was his body, the angular slabs of muscles softened by a coating of black down. Up close, you could see the two side protrusions were actually silver wings, and the ones on top, were elegant antennae. They twitched as he looked you over. His facial features were invisible behind more black fuzz.

“I’ve been wanting a pet,” he said more to himself than you.

The red orbs narrowed to slits.

“Do you know what we do at this club?” he asked.

You’d gotten a pretty good idea when the vampire gave you the impromptu walk-through. So you nodded.

His lips cracked, and jagged white teeth glinted at you.

“Good.”

Clawed fingers slipped through your hair, scraping your scalp.

“You’ll be well fed and kept, but you are my pet. Mine.”

You let out another muffled squeal, shaking your head as tears tumbled down your cheeks. A thumb slid through the wetness before traveling to his red tongue.

“Mmm,” he said, smirking. “Even your tears are sweet.”

By that point, you were hyperventilating into your gag, the world getting spinny as you panicked. You’d started your night daydreaming about gargoyle babies, and now you were being adopted as some kind of fuck pet for a monster boss. Your breaths grew increasingly shallow until the darkness writhing at the edges of your vision merged into a large black spot, and the world went silent.

—

You jerked awake by the sound of screaming. The stone floor beneath your cheek was cold, so you sat up abruptly, only to awkwardly flop over onto your side. You were still gagged, but now you were bound by your ankles, as well as your wrists. The room you were in was dark except for a small lamp hanging from the ceiling. It put out just enough light to see the large figure of the mothman who’d taken you as his pet and an orc you didn’t recognize. You shrank back against the wall behind you, immediately afraid of what would come next, but their attention wasn’t on you.

Another scream pierced the air, making you wince. It sounded almost like…Tyre.

“Please! Please! She came willingly, I swear!” he said, his tone frantic, all the aloof coolness you’d crushed on erased.

“Did you tell her what we do here before you brought her?” the orc barked.

“She was dying to get her cunt pumped with monster cock. All those girls love that shit,” he spat. “She’s just a whore like the rest of them.”

“Tyre?” you murmured, but it only came out as a quiet grunt behind the gag.

Roth nodded at the Orc and you heard chain rattle, then a crunch as he whipped the heavy metal into Tyre’s face. For a moment, you almost felt redeemed. Like Roth might care about your honor, but his next words evaporated that thought.

“You know I don't like liars, Tyre,” he hissed, his voice still terrifyingly quiet and emotionless. “You brought me a problem. Now I've got to tie up a bunch of loose ends.”

You were shocked Tyre could still speak, though his words garbled.

“She's a slut! She wants it! Just ask her! She was ready to open her legs for me for nothing!”

Tears poured down your cheeks, hearing the gargoyle you'd been shyly admiring for a year now finally revealing what he really thought of you. He was just like your last monster “boyfriend” who’d dumped you when he realized you were more than just a doll to play with.

One night after hooking up, his phone started going nuts while he was sleeping. Unable to help yourself, you'd glanced at his texts, humiliated to find he'd been detailing his conquest to his packmates. You were just a joke.

A “monster-cock hungry slut,” in his words. You stupidly let him sleep peacefully through the night, only asking him about it in the morning. You remembered his sharp green eyes full of humor and his disgusting sneer when you'd confronted him.

“What'd you think this was? You really think a weak little human like you is good for anything but a quick fuck? Don’t fool yourself. You wanted my knot like a dirty little bitch in heat and I gave it to you. End of story.”

You broke into big, ugly, wet sobs as your whole world collapsed around you. Your body shuddered against the gritty cold floor, tears forming dark spots on the surface.

Across the room Roth’s antenna twitched. He gave the orc a look before crossing the room to crouch down next to you. He dug a thick hand into your hair, lifting your head. Your tears blurred his glowing eyes to wobbly blobs.

“You're crying for him? Is he telling the truth? Are we wrong to punish him?”

You sniffed, whimpering and shook your head. He dropped your hair abruptly, the gesture suddenly becoming something close to comfort. He patted your head a little stiffly as if he wasn't sure what to do with you.

You watched him blink, looking away for a moment before he scooped you up, curling his wings around the two of you. He carried you back across the room, turning your face into his soft chest before he spoke.

“I want his teeth when you're done with him,” he hissed at the Orc.

Tyre begged behind you, his voice brassy.

“She's lying! That bitch is lying!”

Roth didn't even flinch, striding confidently out of the room. As he carried you down a dark hall you heard screams following you until they finally faded.

Roth walked slowly up a long staircase until he reached an elevator. It occurred to you, every room you’d been in was dim, this elevator included, just light enough for someone with average eyesight not to trip over themselves.

Your stomach dropped as the elevator ascended, finally letting out an echoing DING when it reached the desired floor.

He stepped forward and you peeked out from behind his wing.

You were in a beautiful, but dark penthouse. Through the wall to wall windows you could see the stars of the night sky twinkling through. The furnishings were expensive, all black and chrome.

“Welcome home,” the mothman said, his voice ever soft.

He set you down on a black couch and you flinched as he crouched in front of you. His long nails picked at the knots binding your wrists and ankles until they were free.

The moment your limbs were your own again, you slid to the opposite side of the couch, frantically untangling the gag.

“Let me go!” were the first words that bubbled out of your lips.

Roth’s blood eyes narrowed at you. It was unnerving you couldn't really read his expression, his facial features obscured by dark fur.

“Go where?” he asked, calmly, his head tipped to the side. “I had my associates look into you. (Y/N), broke waitress, evicted…where will you go?”

Your cheeks burned that he knew so much about you.

“I don't know. Not here. Not a pet.”

“You'll live better here as a pet than on the street as a stray.”

You blinked and he was a few feet closer to you, stretching his long fingers out to drag a knuckle down your cheek.

“No matter. I'm not letting you go.”

You snorted.

“Until you get bored with me and toss me out again.”

His eyes became narrow slits.

“Did someone throw you out, (Y/N)?”

Your eyes burned into his, heavy with rage. This was just the cherry on your monster loving cake wasn't it? At least, he was honest and called you what you were to him. A toy. A pet. An object to break and throw away.

“It doesn't matter. You're all the same.”

You heard a hiss and then his claws pricked your cheeks, pinching your face. Bright eyes filled your vision.

“Are we?” He asked.

Your confidence faltered and you swallowed a lump in your throat.

“You own a human fetish club. Explain to me how I'm wrong. You see us as weak objects to be passed around.”

He bared his sharp teeth at you.

“You will not be passed around. You. Are. Mine.”

You drew your legs underneath your chin, glaring at him, but winced as a sharp pain shot through you.

“Ouch!”

His eyes widened and his fingers left your cheeks, clawing at the tight skirt you still wore. You tried to wiggle away, but his wing boxed you in so he could glide a thumb over your bare skin. It seemed impossible he could see anything in such a dark room, but he growled at the painful spot on your hip where you'd landed when the vampire dropped you.

“Don't!” you hissed, jerking your skirt down.

You watched his eyes open and shut, before he stood.

“Damian!” he said so softly, you weren't sure who he was talking to.

You jumped as an elegant Naga appeared, wiping his hands with a towel.

“You called, sir?” He asked his yellow eyes drifting to you only for a moment before they returned to Roth.

“Bring Vince. Make her some food.”

The Naga nodded sharply and disappeared.

He sat next to you on the couch, stretching his wings slowly and resting his forearms on the tops of his legs. Seeing him closely, now, you could see he was tall with broad shoulders, not including his massive wingspan.

“The girls I employ want to be here,” he said, turning his face to you. “They get paid well and they enjoy their work.”

“Is that your pitch?” you sneered.

He flashed his teeth, chuckling.

“No, you won't be working the floor, but you should know the facts,” he said. “Tyre broke a pact bringing you here. I don't kidnap humans.”

“Except me.”

“You're a unique situation.”

“I won't tell anyone if you let me go,” you promised.

He was hard to read, but you got the impression he was examining you.

“I'm not letting you go. I want you.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” You blurted, your heart starting to race again.

Roth didn't have to answer as the elevator dinged and the vampire from before stepped out.

“You hurt her. Apologize.”

Vince’s eyes found you and his eyebrows rose. Giving the mothman a contrite glance, he crossed the room, bending down to one knee in front of you and dipping his head.

“Apologies, miss, I was too rough with you. It won't happen again.”

“Good. Get back to work,” Roth said, tone blunt.

“Have a pleasant evening, miss.”

Vince stood and winked at you with a little smirk, before he boarded the elevator again and disappeared.

“Come here, you need to eat,” Roth said, gesturing for you to follow him.

You wanted to say no, but you hadn't eaten, expecting a quiet dinner with Tyre so you slowly got to your feet and crept after him.

In the dining room Damian had set the table with a little flickering candle and red roses. Roth politely pulled out your seat for you, encouraging you to sit down. Though you were hungry, you glared at the food in front of you as he took his own seat.

“Something wrong?” he asked placing a napkin in his lap.

“How do I know you haven’t drugged this?”

“Why would I?”

You blinked at him, opening and closing your mouth as you thought of what accusations to spew.

“I don’t know! So you can have your way with me or whatever!”

Though you couldn’t see his lips, a triangle of teeth appeared as if he were smirking.

“I don’t need to drug your food to do that. Personally, I would rather my lover be conscious when I have her.”

You crossed your arms.

“How many lovers have you had?”

He snorted, picking up his knife and carefully cutting his meat into little cubes.

“That’s a rather personal question little flame,” he said, before sticking a bit of meat in his mouth and chewing. “What would you say if I asked you the same thing?”

Your cheeks burned, realizing it was a very rude question. His low, scratchy voice drove you insane. Every word he spoke was soft, deliberate, and calm. None of your fussing seemed to move him, much. Unsure what else to say, you turned your attention to your food. The first bite was apprehensive, but after you’d swallowed that, your hunger took over and you quickly consumed the rest.

“Damian is a good cook,” you commented.

“I can tell he’s happy to have someone new to cook for,” he said, scooting a vegetable out of the way with his fork. “I usually have the same thing every night but this is new.”

Your cheeks burned that he’d made such an effort, but with nothing left on your plate, you weren’t sure what to do next.

“Come with me,” he said rising.

You narrowed your eyes on the vegetables he’d left behind, only eating the meat, but followed him out of the room.

The penthouse was large and airy, the atmosphere perfumed with rows of night blooming flowers arranged in planters outside of the open glass doors.

“You keep the doors open?” you asked.

“Though I enjoy my luxuries, my people rested in trees for thousands of years. I like to feel the breeze,” he explained. “Don’t be concerned. You are very safe here. I have security posted everywhere.”

Your eyes jumped to your forehead hearing that.

“Are you often under attack?”

“My business is a dangerous one, but I’ve been at it for many years. You are safe. This is our room.”

He opened a heavy door and led you into a sumptuous bedroom. A four poster bed sat at the center with silver chiffon curtains fluttering in the breeze flowing in through the open balcony doors. Moonflowers and datura swayed on an arbor framing the entrance, the moon hanging in the center. It’s blue light cast a silver glow over the plush white chairs and vanity.

“Our room?” you gulped. “I have to sleep with you?”

He chuckled.

“I don’t sleep on a bed, usually,” he said. “My kind sleep upright on a perch. The bed is for your comfort.”

You shuddered, a dark thought passing through your head.

“H-how…how did you know you would need that?”

In the darkness, you followed his red eyes.

“Damian brought it up while you were resting.”

You wrinkled your nose. Collapsed from panic on a hard stone floor while he tortured Tyre was hardly resting. He suddenly turned to you, grabbing you by your waist and placing you gently on the bed.

“W-what are you doing?” you mewled as his claws curled around the edge of your skirt, scooting it further up your thigh.

He pinned you with a glance, before turning his attention to the bedside table and extracting a little pot. Opening it, he scooped some gel from inside and carefully smoothed it over the darkened bit of skin where a bruise was forming. It tingled, easing the slight ache.

His eyes lingered on the patch of skin, before his claws split the fabric.

“Stop! Stop it!” you screeched, trying to push him away with your smaller hands.

It was only then you really understood how strong he really was. He didn’t budge, but captured your wrists in a hand while the other shredded your sweater.

“I’ll buy you better clothes,” he assured you when you were sitting underneath him in only your underwear.

You regretted wearing your skimpiest pair, as you’d planned on seducing Tyre with them. Now you felt naked and vulnerable, the red light of Roth’s eyes outlining your curves.

He swallowed, heavily, making a small grunt in the back of his throat before he released you and stood.

“Sleep.” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “The sun is rising.”

Peering past him, you could see the sky getting ever so slightly lighter. He pressed a button and heavy blackout blinds lowered automatically. The sliding door slid shut, making the room pitch black except for Roth’s eyes still shining in the dark.

You let out a yip as his wings fluttered, stirring the air in the room and he delicately perched on the rail at the end of the bed.

“Are you going to watch me sleep all day?” you barked, crossing your arms.

“Yes.”

You sputtered your displeasure, but weren’t sure what to say. Hurriedly scooting under the coverlet, without meaning to you let out a satisfied hiss as you sank into the bed. Having slept on a droopy air mattress for many years, this bed felt like you were nestled in clouds. As much as you would have liked to stay awake, glaring at Roth until he went away, your eyes slid shut and you drifted off.

–

“Miss, miss,” you heard a voice in your ear.

You pried your eyes open, taking a moment to remember where you were. Sitting up suddenly, you were met with Damian’s yellow gaze.

“Time to wake up,” he said, “I have breakfast for you in the dining room.”

You blinked, realizing you could see him fairly well, and glanced at the windows to see the blackout blinds had been lifted and the sun was well on it’s way below the horizon.

“But it’s evening,” you muttered.

He smirked, slithering around you to open a door and then another.

“We operate on the boss’s clock here. Mothmen like the dark, they don’t see to well in the sunlight. Here, this is the bathroom and the closet is here. I spent the afternoon purchasing you some new clothes, but if you’d like something else, just tell me.”

“Oh, um…okay.”

Damian gave you a slight bow and slid out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Taking a breath, you climbed out of the coverlet, first examining the balcony. Standing just in the doorway, since you were still dressed in lingerie, you could see the whole city spread out before you, streetlights flicking on one by one as the sun set.

On the deck, along with the flowers, was a swinging chair and a small fish pond. You watched the white finned fish swimming in lazy circles below a few lotus flowers before you went back inside.

Poking your head in the bathroom, you found it was quite luxurious and to your surprise when you flicked the switch a real light turned on, not the dimmed bulbs everywhere else. Damian, you guessed, had stocked it with a fresh electric toothbrush and all the essentials. Oddly, there were either the exact products you had in your bathroom or the not value brand versions. Instead of the face cream you used, there was a high end cream you’d always dreamed of buying. The same with the makeup, hair supplies, and soaps. Satisfied you had what you needed, you crept into the closet.

It was one of those fancy closets, you’d seen in magazines with clothes arranged by color and an island in the center full of shelves holding jewelry, scarves, shoes, and-

A sharp scream burst from your lips.

Damian appeared in the doorway, out of breath as if he’d been slithering at top speed.

“What’s wrong?” he gasped.

You pointed a shaking finger at what was a multi compartment jewelrybox, but instead of jewels inside there were carefully arranged, polished, teeth. Hundreds of teeth.

“What the fuck is that?” you squealed, jumping behind Damian’s body as if he could shield you from them.

He let out a sharp breath, looking relieved.

“Heavens, I thought something was wrong,” he sighed.

Your eyes darted between him and the box of teeth.

“There IS something wrong! What the fuck?”

“That’s the boss’s collection,” he said.

“D-do those teeth come from people?” you whispered. “Are they real?”

Damian nodded as if that was the most perfectly normal thing in the world.

“He likes to collect the teeth of his enemies. It’s some mothman cultural thing. It’s kind of neat if you take a good look at them. There are specimens from several species.”

“He keeps them in his closet?”

“Where else would he keep them?”

You felt light headed and slumped against the vanity sitting just by the closet door. Were Tyre’s teeth already part of the collection?

“It’s part of his culture, (Y/N),” he said. “Children in your culture put their teeth under their pillow for their parent’s to collect. Think of it that way.”

You shook your head, rubbing your eyes.

“Please, please stop. I don’t want to hear any more.”

“Is anything else the matter? Do you like your clothes?” he asked pleasantly.

“I-I didn’t get a chance to look.”

Damian nodded and slipped into the closet, returning with a handful of items.

“Why not wear this outfit,” he said. “I saw it on a Pinterest board and I think it will suit your figure.”

“Er…thanks,” you said, taking the pile as he slipped out of the room so you could dress.

You took a long shower, trying to clear your mind of the teeth cache you’d stumbled across. When it was finally time to put on clothes, you had to admit, the outfit Damian had chosen was quite stylish, though you looked a bit like a mafia wife with a diamond tennis necklace around your neck and matching bracelets on your wrist.

You crept down the hall to the dining room to find Roth waiting on you, surrounded by paperwork. You yelped when to his side you saw another monster you recognized handcuffed and gagged on his knees next to him. His nose was bloody and one eye was swollen.

“What the- Elijah…what?”

Roth’s eyes rose to you, lingering for a moment before he gestured towards your breakfast.

“Eat, your food is getting cold,” he murmured, turning his attention back to whatever he was working on as if the monster by his calf wasn’t eyeing you for help.

You hardly noticed if the fluffy pancakes Damian had provided were good or not, because you were trying to sort out what the monster “boyfriend” who’d jilted you a year ago was doing handcuffed in the dining room. It was hard to know where to look and words escaped you as your mind spun with messy thoughts.

Halfway through your meal, Roth gathered his stack of papers and tapped them on the desk to straighten them before he spoke.

“Now that that’s all done,” he said. “Time to other business.”

He stood, dragging Elijah by his collar along the table to you, leaning on it casually as if everything about this wasn’t very, very illegal.

“What would you like me to do with this one?” he asked, a clawed hand slipping through your freshly washed hair.

You stared up at him for a moment, a bite of pancake still half chewed in your mouth before you swallowed it hard. Your mind’s eye immediately went to the tooth collection in the closet.

“Um…I don’t know? What do you mean ‘do with him?’”

Elijah whimpered loudly, begging for mercy.

Roth’s eyes narrowed and he kicked him sharply to get him to sit still.

“Well, I can give him to my boys and have his teeth extracted or you can keep him around the club polishing the girl’s shoes if it makes you feel any better. They make a game of bullying miscreants. I’ll only take his fangs and claws if you’d like to show him mercy. But he’s not getting away without a punishment.”

He grabbed the werewolf, by the neck, his red eyes reflecting in Elijah’s green.

“Monsters like you make me sick. I ought to take your balls.”

He pried his lips apart, his thumb running over a fang. Though Roth’s voice was low, it was thick with a terrifying cruelty.

“All that power, all the gifts you’ve been given and you use them to trick the ones smaller than you. You could have had a willing human woman on her knees in front of you playing whatever games you like, but you get off on torturing the sweet ones.”

Elijah’s eyes were wide, full of terror. They flicked to you, begging for forgiveness.

“I don’t want you to kill him,” you said, your voice thin.

Roth looked up at you and tipped his head to the side.

“Pity.”

His eyes flicked down to his captive.

“I suppose you have a new job, hm?”

He narrowed his eyes again, head dipping down so he was close to Elijah’s snout.

“(Y/N) is very kind. I am not. If you get into trouble, I’ll take what’s left of your teeth and dump the rest of you in a ditch. Understand?”

Vince appeared from the shadows making you jump and dragged Elijah out.

“Have fun with the girls!” he called after him.

“Was that really necessary?” you asked, glaring at Roth. “Yes, he broke my heart, but his fangs? His claws? Threatening to kill him?”

Roth slipped a knuckle under your chin, his eyes arcing in what must have been a smile.

“My job is not easy and my world is not kind. Strength and cruelty are sometimes required to take care of the ones who can’t help themselves. That’s the way things are.”

You huffed.

“You’re horrible.”

Fangs flashed in the dimming purple light streaming in through the window behind you.

“I’ll happily be horrible so you can always stay sweet. My methods may be unappetizing, but it’s worth is to see the truth reflected in your eyes. You deserve to feel justice.”

He leaned towards you, searching your gaze.

“And even if you won’t admit it, I can see that you do.”

Your eyebrows jumped and your ears burned.

“H-how did you even know about him?”

“I went through your text messages.”

“You have my phone? Give it to me!”

He shook his head.

“You haven’t properly settled in yet. I’ll give you a new one when you’ve come to accept your place here.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll soon get used to it. Come on.”

He beckoned you to get up, leading you towards the elevator.

“I have a use for you,” he said.

You flinched, narrowing your eyes at him as your heart tightened in your chest.

“What use?”

“The girls always have things they need. Some new brand of makeup comes out or melting spray, whatever that means. I have no idea, but I’m sure you do. Can you handle a budget?”

You nodded, more curious now that your “use” wasn’t anything alarming.

“All you have to do is receive their requests and figure out what we can afford to buy every month, what’s most important and all that. Then hand over your report and I’ll have one of the guys deal with the order. Simple enough?”

“Sure,” you agreed.

He patted you on the head and you peered up at him, trying to read his expression as the two of you landed on the first floor. The club was empty this early in the evening, except you could hear the titter of women through one of the doors that led to the back. A cyclops was restocking the bar, slicing limes and he nodded to you politely when you met his gaze.

Without writhing bodies, you could see that it was a very pretty place. Tufted benches in Navy blue velvet formed curved shapes housing glossy hardwood tables. The walls appeared to be some kind of fabric with an elaborate swag curtain arrangement softening the corners. The bar was a slick snake-like shape running along one wall, the liquor bottles lined up to the ceiling lit up by gold light.

A woman with bright pink hair came rushing through a side hallway, looking in her purse for something, almost slamming right into you.

“Oh sorry!” she squeaked, looking up.

Her eyes widened at you, then looked to Roth.

“New girlfriend, boss?” she asked, a sly smile growing on her face.

Glancing up at him, you couldn’t tell behind his black fuzz, but you almost thought he might be blushing.

“I’m Candy,” she beamed, shaking your hand.

Roth waved at you.

“(Y/N) will be taking your supply requests from now on,” he explained and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“You’re putting your girlfriend to work?” she pouted, slipping an arm around yours and pulling you close. “Shame on you! You ought to spoil this rare blessing! You’ve been waiting long enough, haven’t you? You’re going to chase her away if you work her to the bone!”

“Candy!” he growled, obviously a little annoyed, but she just waved him away.

“Mr. Roth acts tough, but he’s got a gooey center,” she said, her bright eyes filled with mischief. “You’d better take him for all he’s worth! He’s been wanting a girlfriend for as long as anyone can remember, but never could find the right one.”

She winked at you.

“The girls and I like variety but Mr. Roth is so sentimental he can’t stand the idea of sharing. He’s always wanted one little flower to spoil. It’s so cute. You’re his first girlfriend, you know. He’s never brought another woman here. We would know if he did.”

“Oh!” you said, glancing back up to him.

You were sure he was blushing now, though you couldn’t see it.

“Jesus,” Roth grumbled, hiding his face with a clawed hand. “Aren’t you running late, Candy?”

She grinned.

“I can’t wait to tell the girls about this!” she chirped before she smooched you on the cheek and ran off.

Roth sighed, looking at you for a moment, before a thumb rose to your cheek and he rubbed away Candy’s lipstick.

“Don’t listen to her,” he grunted, turning quickly and leading you to his office. “The girls pretty much run this place and they get silly ideas in their heads. Meddlers, all of them.”

“I am I really your first girlfriend?” you asked his back as he walked into his office. “I’m not really your girlfriend, though. You said I was your pet.”

He plopped down at his desk, waving you over.

“It doesn’t matter what I call you,” he griped, grabbing you by your hips and setting you on his desk. “You’re mine.”

Your head tipped to the side.

“Why haven’t you had a girlfriend before? You’re rich and powerful. Don’t women fall all over you?”

He leaned back in his chair, letting out a tight breath.

“My kind mate once, for life,” he explained. “It’s very…serious. Most women don’t like that sort of…intensity hanging over their heads from the start.”

Your eyes widened, watching the stiff personality he’d been so carefully trying to cultivate melt in front of you.

“So you haven’t had any other lovers?” you asked.

He fiddled with the hem of your skirt, refusing to answer.

“Is that why you’re so hard on sleazy monsters?”

At that his eyes lifted to meet yours, and his thumb absently slipped over your thigh.

“Being so crass and careless is a sacrilege among my people. Breaking a soul who might be someone’s sacred mate is considered a crime punishable by death.”

You looked down at your fingers, suddenly feeling an ache in your chest. It should have been a relief, not a pain. He would get bored and let you go someday. Now you knew that for certain.

“Am I just a placeholder until your real mate comes along?” you whispered, the words slipping past your lips, though you tried so hard to keep them in.

He chuckled, lowering his head to fill your vision with his bright eyes.

“I just told you. We mate to one person only. I wouldn’t have brought you to my bedroom if I intended to have someone else.”

“Why didn’t you just say that? Why be so distant? You scared me. If you’d wanted to mate me, holding me against my will is not exactly how to start a relationship.”

At that his eyes avoided yours.

“Like I said…women tend to run when they find out we mate for life. Humans aren’t like us. Your kind have lots of different partners and you break partnerships when they no longer suit you. If I don't force you to stay with me, you might leave."

You had no idea what possessed you, but you placed a hand on his cheek and pulled his face towards you, forcing him to meet your gaze. Your fingertips sank into the soft fuzz and you liked the way it tickled your skin.

“Not all of us,” you whispered. “Some of us just want one person we can be with forever.”

“Is that what you want?” he asked.

The words left your lips on a silvery note.

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

He pulled you into his lap, curling his wings around the two of you.

“I can give you that, if you let me.”

A light giggle filled the little space for just the two of you.

“I suppose I don’t have much of a choice,” you tittered. ��You don’t plan on letting me leave.”

“No,” he murmured. “But if you stayed because you wanted to it would mean a lot to me. It’s okay if you don’t feel it now. I’ll spend our lifetimes trying to convince you.”

Your head tipped against his soft chest, feeling a strange giddiness a lady shouldn’t feel towards her kidnapper, especially one who had a large collection of the teeth of the people he’d murdered in his closet.

You were fairly certain monsters had driven you to madness. None of your dramatically swaying feelings made any sense… but your “enemies” had been defeated, you’d had the best sleep you’d had in a long time in a big comfy bed, and you were wearing half a million dollars in diamonds. Objectively, your quality of life had wildly improved from the day before when you were sitting on a dirty curb clutching fifteen dollars.

For the first time, you felt his soft lips against your forehead and your head tipped up, following them. When you pressed yours against his, you felt a shudder roll through his chest, making your skin tingle. His clawed hands slipped into your hair, holding your head in place while he explored.

You felt his breath fanning your face, panting into your kiss and underneath your fingertips his heart raced, causing yours to skip as well. An arm reached behind you and you heard sundry items clatter on the floor as he laid you out on his desk.

His tongue explored your mouth, tasting like cinnamon, as his fingers clutched your cheek. Fear and anticipation muddled your thoughts. Part of you was still unsure, but the other part knew it was too late for doubts. Your body was ready to surrender, panties damp and thighs sticky.

You gasped underneath him, his wings forming a silvery cave tinted with the glow from his red eyes. You ran your fingers through the soft feathers and felt him shudder with appreciation. Notching his body between your legs, he pulled only an inch away, looking at you.

“I will keep you no matter what, but this I will not take without permission,” he murmured. “Just know, if you accept me. I won’t tolerate competition. I’ll murder anyone who dares to touch you and take their teeth.”

Your cheeks burned, blinking at him through a heady veil of pleasure, his scent carrying notes of the moonflowers decorating his home. This was the key moment. You could refuse him and go back to being his reluctant captive…or you could become his.

“Okay,” you whispered, your heart answering the question before your still unsure mind. “I…ah…I accept you.”

His lips covered yours again as he let out a needy grunt, this kiss more desperate and claiming. You felt the prick of his sharp teeth as yours slid against his, the thrill of danger sending lightening bolts up your spine. You could feel the strength in his fingers as they moved over you and the weight of his body as he pressed you into the desk.

His claws curled around the neck of your blouse and he jerked ito down, exposing the tender breasts perched in your bra. You dragged in a heavy breath tasting oddly like cinnamon, the small space under his wings suddenly feeling thick with the scent.

Your body grew hot and sensitive, each brush off his soft fuzz making your skin tingle wildly. You suddenly felt light headed and needy, your mouth watering at the taste of his tongue.

“W-what’s happening?” you gasped when he pulled back to press kisses into your neck. “I feel hot…”

His hands cupped your breast as you felt his lips agonizingly brush your sensitive skin as he spoke.

“My pheromones are binding you to me,” he hummed and your heart skipped a beat.

“What?” you hummed, pushing your breasts into his big hands for more pressure.

“My pheromones are designed to make mating more pleasurable…to make me irresistible to you.”

You gasped, but your mind was getting ever hazier as the scent wound around you. Your hips bucked into his stomach, begging for what you wanted.

“Not yet,” he purred, pulling a tender nipple into his mouth. Colors exploded behind your eyelids, feeling more pleasure flood your system than you’d ever experienced before.

You’d had enough lovers and a few good orgasms, but this blew that all out of the water like a nuclear bomb and you hadn’t even cum yet. Your back arched and you screamed as his long, agile tongue curled around your nipple.

The slight prick of his claws bit your skin as his fingers played with the other one, alternating between teasing plucks and firm rolls. The small panties you wore were soaked through and your thighs ground against his hips for more friction. Every inch of skin felt as sensitive as your clit, the fuzz all over his body feeling maddeningly good against it. Your fingertips dug into the thick collar of fur around his neck, wanting to just rub him all over you.

He let our pleased hums as grunts as your fingers couldn’t decide where they wanted to be, one moment clutching his neck, then his head, then scratching at this chest. The room filled with your desperate mewls, begging him in slurred words for his cock.

“That’s right,” he murmured on a smug chuckle. “You’re all mine, little flame. Only I can give you what you need.”

His kisses trailed down your stomach, his soft, delicate antennae caressing your skin as he moved lower. Claws shoved your skirt off your hips, exposing your panties to him and his long tongue slid up and down your slit. You heard the sound of tearing fabric and then his breath on your sensitive lips. His tongue dipped inside of you and you suddenly understood the actual length of it, easily filling your weeping pussy.

“Roth!” you gasped, fingers looking for something to clutch and finding a few odd feathers to wrap in your grip.

You heard him hum as he licked you up, making your eyes cross as the vibration drew a blooming orgasm from your core. Whimpering, with tears streaming down your cheeks you felt the agile appendage lapping up your juices, while his thumb found your clit.

He circled it slowly, making your thighs tense so tightly you thought you might pop. Pleasure zapped you like a lightening bolt, the electricity lighting up every nerve until your whole body felt like it was cumming all at once. Your head dropped to the side, drool leaking over your cheek as your eyes rolled back in your head.

You weren’t sure you could take much more. Making love had never been like this. Your mind couldn’t process what his pheromones were doing to you.

Finally, Roth couldn’t hold back anymore, standing so he loomed over you, only his red eyes visible in the darkness. His fingers slipped past your open lips, holding you you in place as you felt his thick shaft investigate your pussy. It felt a little strange, your skin so sensitive it could make out every detail. Though velvety skin still covered it’s girth, the head was more elongated than a humans, ending at a slightly sharper angle with a pronounced ridge bisecting it. Smooth bumps formed a line running vertically along the shaft and something…or some things grasped your thighs like little fingers, holding them open. Your confusion as what was holding your legs apart melted away when he snapped his hips and his cock entered you.

A ragged roar filled your ears as he bottomed out inside of your channel. You could tell by the way the fingers in your mouth flexed, he was doing his best to hold back, not to hurt you. He was still for a moment, as he gathered his resolve, but you had other ideas, sucking on his fingers lewdly, your wet tongue tracing his claws.

He bent down on top of you, fingers fleeing your hot mouth and wrapping around your neck.

“Naughty girl,” he gasped as you bucked your hips, the little nubs lining his shaft making you whimper.

You could hardly see him, but you knew he could see you and you were getting annoyed with him trying to be gentle. Pulling your tits out of your bra, you kneaded them shamelessly, pressing the flesh against the arm holding your throat and arching your back so he couldn’t avoid the dirty show.

You couldn’t hold back your victorious smirk as he let out a hungry growl and his hips started to batter your soft flesh. His eyes disappeared into the darkness as instinct overtook him, rutting you wildly. Strong fingers tightened on your throat, only ratcheting up the spice swirling through every limb like a savage tornado.

Drowning in pure bliss, hot tears poured down your cheeks, your body jerking underneath his as he pounded into you. Nonsense poured from your lips, rational thought swept away in the storm. When the sensation reached it’s peak you felt like your body might shatter into a million pieces and you welcomed the oblivion that overtook you. Body shuddering violently as you fell over the edge.

Your wet, needy cunt, clamping down on Roth’s cock so suddenly made his body respond in the way it was designed. His shaft suddenly inflated to twice it’s original girth, stretching you decadently before he cursed and you felt ropes of searing cum splash against your sucking walls.

You could hear heavy panting and it took you a moment to realize it was your own breath. Roth let out a long, groaning sigh, his body slumping on top of yours, only stopped by a strong arm bracing the desk.

His bright red eyes returned, looking somehow more entrancing than before. Everything about him seemed…more. His cinnamon, flower laced scent stuck to you and his soft fur felt luxurious. Even the sound of his ragged breaths tickled your ears in a sumptuous way.

“You’re…different,” you muttered, brain having trouble putting words together.

He let go of your throat, a thumb brushing your bottom lip as his hand clutched your cheek.

“My pheramones have soaked into your body,” he purred. “You’re mine now. I’ve marked you.”

“Oh,” you hummed, eyes slipping shut, as you felt the aftershocks of your love making roll over you.

Whatever little claspers were holding your legs retreated and as his cock slipped out of you, cum and slick splashed on the wood floor.

He scooped you into his arms, pulling you into his lap as he peppered soft kisses on your forehead.

“Are you okay?” he asked, fingers, absently stroking your hair.

“Mhmm,” you hummed. “Will it always be like that…now that you’ve marked me?”

“Yes,” he said, twirling a bit of hair around his finger. “Now that we’re bonded…I can’t control my pheremones. They…have a bit of a mind of their own and their purpose now is to reinforce the bond.”

A knock at the door sobered you a bit as you tugged your shirt back up to cover your boobs.

“Who is it?” he called, still so quiet you weren’t sure how anyone heard him.

“Vince,” said the vampire on the other side of the door.

“Is it an emergency?”

“No.”

“Go away.”

“Got it, boss.”

He tucked the bit of hair he was twirling behind your ear and smiled.

“Do you want a snack?”

Your eyes met his with all of the earnestness in the world.

“Yes. I would love that!”

He pulled out his phone and texted someone before setting you back on his desk and leaning back in his chair, looking deeply satisfied and proud of himself. You flopped over on your stomach, kicking your heels in the air and resting your chin on your arm.

“Do we have to work now?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him.

He looked at you for a moment before answering.

“No…What do you want to do?”

“I kind of want to get to know you a little better…Since I’m bonded to you or whatever.”

“Okay,” he said, stretching his arms behind his head. “What do you want to know first?”

You blinked at him.

“Why do you have hundreds of teeth in your closet?”

725 notes · View notes

the-black-manor · 3 months

Text

Within Temptation

Author: The-Black-Manor

Demon x Trans Male Priest (Pre-transition)

Warnings: Rape, unprotected sex, stolen virginity

Kinks: Demon, priest, corruption, blasphemy, oral, excessive cum, oversized cock, monster cock, bondage, belly bulge, rough sex, age difference, size difference

Terms used: Cunt, cock, balls, cervix, chest, nipples, binder, cockhead, crotch, walls, entrance

Words: 4,002

Note: If you find any mistakes, please let me know so I can fix them.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR ANYONE TO USE MY WRITING FOR ANYTHING OTHER THAN READING. DO NOT PRINT AND BIND MY WORKS, DO NOT REPOST THEM, DO NOT COPY THEM, DO NOT FEED THEM INTO AI, DO NOT SELL THEM, DO NOT CLAIM THEM AS YOUR OWN.

The young priest didn’t arrive at the old stone church until well after dark. He was exhausted from his long journey, but there was nowhere nearby to rest, and he certainly wasn’t going to rest in the church until he was certain there were no malevolent entities present. He stepped out of the cab and stretched before grabbing his luggage and kit and making his way through the crumbling, overgrown courtyard. The front door was unlocked, and he was silently grateful to the family that lived here that they’d remembered to keep it open for him before they fled.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside. The foyer was dark and foreboding. Previous owners had begun renovating the church into a home years ago, but progress had been halted when strange activity began after unsealing a walled-off room in the cellar. Scaffolding, canvas, tarp, rope, and all sorts of construction equipment had been left behind when the family and crew abandoned the location. There was a large industrial light nearby, and the priest switched it on. The room was no less unsettling bathed in white light.

As he moved through the home in search of the dining room, dust that had since settled was kicked up once more and made the air hazy. The dining room would work well enough as a sort of “home base” while he investigated the claims of demonic activity. He was no exorcist, just a young priest sent to validate the claims. If he found evidence of activity, he would send for an exorcist. For now, though, all he had was himself, his bible, his crucifix, and his faith.

After he got himself settled, he descended to the cellar, to the newly-excavated room the family claims is a “door to hell”. He scoffed and shook his head. Not likely. A gas leak, perhaps, which is why he had a mask and detector with him. But the detector stayed silent, and when he felt comfortable enough to take his mask off, the air was clean, if a bit stale. He worked his way through the house slowly, paying great attention to each room, making mental notes if anything seemed “off”.

The only thing he found unusual was that nothing seemed unusual. He shook his head. This was a waste of time. Still, he had a job to do, and he was going to see it through to the end. He kept going. The church was huge, more a castle than anything, and he eventually found his way upstairs to the bedrooms. The doors were all closed, except for one at the very end of the hall.

If there was ever a place to start up here, he supposed that was it. The dusty old runner beneath his feet muffled his footsteps, and he peered into the room as he approached. It was dark inside, but he could make out the silhouette of a bed with a canopy. He hesitated for only the briefest moment before stepping over the threshold and into the master bedroom. The windows either side of the bed were open just a crack, letting in a crisp, fresh night breeze that sent the linen curtains fluttering and rays of silver moonlight that provided just enough light to see by.

This room was different from the rest. There was no dust on the plush red duvet, no cracks in the stone walls or gunk on the windows. No tattered rugs or moth-eaten curtains. Whereas the rest of the church was obviously abandoned, this room looked well cared for. Lived in.

The door closed behind him and the lock fastened with a “click”. He whirled around, and his blood ran cold as his tired gaze met the glowing purple eyes of an undulating shadow. He took a step back. At points, the figure looked almost human, and then its silhouette dissolved and melded with the shadows around it, moving like ink in water. It was both tangible and intangible, solid and smoke, man and monster.

Its eyes flickered like flame, and it glared at him, and then he thought he saw, for only the briefest moment, the hint of a sharp-toothed smile.

“Hello, priest,” the entity greeted him.

Its voice was deep and seemed to burrow into his chest and reverberate around in his rib cage. The priest gripped the crucifix around his neck and lifted it, wielding it like a shield against the darkness. The entity laughed, low and menacing. And then it was gone. Or so the priest thought. He gasped and nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt arms snake around him from behind. The demon pulled him close, pressing its chest against his back, and ran its shadowy clawed hands all over the priest’s chest and stomach.

“Release me!” the priest insisted, writhing in its vice-like grip.

“Cute,” it cooed, its breath hot on the shell of his ear. “You think you have authority here…”

“In the name of Jesus Christ, I command you to- mmph!”

The demon forced two thick fingers into his mouth, silencing him.

“Hush now,” it breathed as its free hand slid down his stomach to his crotch.

It grabbed him hard and pulled him back into its bulge. He could feel it hardening against his ass.

It let out a sound then that was somewhere between a purr and a growl. “What’s this?” it asked as it felt between his legs. “No cock? Does the church know about this?” it chuckled. “No, I think not. They wouldn’t let you be a priest if they did.”

He held his crucifix so tight that the edges of the cross dug into the soft flesh of his palm. He repeated all the prayers he knew in his head, over and over. He wasn’t afraid, but he couldn’t speak with the fiend’s fingers pressing down on his tongue, so he couldn’t fend it off. All he could do was pray. Its claws dug into the flesh of his inner thigh, and then he was in the air. He landed hard on the bed, and the breath was knocked from his lungs. He propped himself up on his elbows, ready to run, and saw the demon approaching slowly, a predator stalking its prey. This was the most tangible it had been. It looked like a man, around six feet tall, with a slim body and long hair that flowed like smoke. He could make out no facial features except for those gleaming eyes, eyes that burned into his very soul and held him in place, like a deer in the headlights.

The demon leaned forward to match his level, its face only millimeters from his. It breathed in deep, taking in his scent, and then a long, pointed tongue snaked out from behind sharp, wet teeth to lick a line up his cheek.

“Delicious,” it purred.

It rested its hand on his chest, over his racing heart, and shoved him onto his back. Claws dug into his flesh as it tore at his vestments and binder and peeled them away. He snapped out of his fear-frozen state, and brought a leg up to try and kick the monster away. Something wrapped around his ankle, then his thigh, then his other leg, his wrists, his biceps. Inky tentacles held him down and spread him open, leaving him bare before the evil he faced.

“What do you want with me?” he growled, though he was sure he already knew the answer.

“I want your body,” it responded simply, then ran its tongue over its lips. “And it is a beautiful body… Seems a shame to have such stunning assets and not put them to any use.”

He had to get out of here.. He sneered at the demon and began a prayer, voice rising in an attempt to drown out its booming laugh. It didn’t care for his prayers, his faith, his god. It crawled on top of him, and he expected its body to be as hot as the fiery pits that spat it out, but it was icy cold and sent a chill down his spine. His prayer was cut short as the creature forced that long tongue into his mouth and entangled it with his own. He writhed beneath it, trying to free himself from the tentacles’ grasp and the slimy intrusion. One of its teeth nicked his lip, and he tasted blood. The demon must have tasted it too, because another purr-growl rumbled through its chest.

It pulled its tongue from his mouth and licked up the side of his neck while the priest spat, trying to rid himself of its taste. And then its lips replaced its tongue, peppering kisses along his jaw, down his neck, across his collarbone. Its hands touched and grabbed and massaged every inch of him that it could reach, paying special attention to his chest, where it groped the soft mounds and pinched his nipples, rolling them between clawed fingers. Despite his best efforts, the demon’s ministrations were affecting him, and he keened, back arching, when the demon replaced its fingers with soft lips and sucked a sensitive bud into its mouth.

He choked back a moan as fire ignited in his belly. He could feel some sort of wetness leaking from his cunt and pooling on the bed beneath him, but he couldn’t close his legs or reach down to feel. Just then, he felt something hard knock against his cock, and he cried out as electricity shot up his spine. He thought it must have been the demon’s knee, but when he managed to lift his head to look down, the demon was straddling him, its knees on either side of his hips.

“No…” he whimpered, and his head fell back against the mattress.

When it said it wanted his body, he assumed it meant possession, not…

“Get off of me!” he shouted, struggling with renewed vigor.

The demon didn’t reply, but it released his nipple with a “pop”, and traveled down his belly, kissing and licking every inch of the soft flesh there and on his hips as he made his way lower. The priest squirmed, trying to kick away the tentacles so that he could close his legs, but they only pulled them wider apart. Finally, the demon buried its face in his cunt and inhaled deeply. It flicked his cock with its wicked tongue, and then pressed the strong muscle flat against it. It massaged him expertly, and as his back arched and his hips bucked involuntarily, another tentacle wrapped itself around his midsection to hold him down.

“S-stop…” he panted.

“Keep praying to your absent father,” the demon mocked. “I’m sure he’ll come to your rescue.”

His cock throbbed, his cunt clenched, his body ached for more.

“Don’t… ahh-”

The tip of its tongue prodded at his entrance, gauging resistance.

“A virgin?” it purred. “I couldn’t have asked for the church to send me a better gift.”

Fighting back was useless, so the priest closed his eyes tight and started up another prayer.

“That’s it,” the demon cooed. “What a good boy. So obedient.”

He cursed the creature silently and continued his prayer while it pushed the tip of its tongue just past his entrance. He groaned and balled his hands into fists. Its tongue was far bigger than a human’s, and he’d never had anything inside of him before. The stretch burned, but there was pleasure there as well, and he hated his body for reacting the way it was.

It thrust its tongue in and out, in and out, and then buried it deeper. He cried out at the sharp pain, and then stumbled over his prayer as it hit something inside of him - a sensitive spot that sent pleasure shooting up his spine. Its tongue delved deeper, opening his cunt, curling and uncurling, thrusting, massaging, and pressing again and again and again against that spot.

“Sto-op…” he tried to beg, but his pleas fell on deaf ears.

Its tongue suddenly retreated until only the tip was inside, and it used the meatiest part to press hard against his cock.

“Ah!” he cried out in surprise as another shock of pleasure flooded his senses.

The demon chuckled low, pleased with the reactions it was pulling out of this man of god. Its hands traveled up his sides and it took a breast in each one, kneading them in its large palms and rolling his nipples between its fingers.

“Fuck-” he swore.

Its tongue plunged deep inside of him once more, all the way, until he could feel its lips and nose against his crotch.

“Such a dirty mouth for someone so pure,” it mocked. “And you pray to your god with that tongue?”

“Shut up,” he tried to command, but it only laughed again.

“Have you given up on your prayers, little priest? I quite liked hearing them.”

Mocking. Always mocking. It should hate his prayers, not like them. It was only driving home the fact that the priest had no power over it, no weapon against it.

“Sing for me, priest.”

He clenched his jaw.

“I said, sing.”

It dug its claws into the sensitive flesh of his breasts, and he hissed in pain. He could feel warm blood pooling beneath its talons and running in rivulets down his sides.

“Our f-father, who… who art i-in…”

“Good boy,” it praised him, purring happily.

It ran its cold hands up and down his sides, and then traced soft spirals into his hips before it removed its tongue entirely. The priest was given only a moment to breathe before it was climbing over him once more. It pressed its lips to his neck, peppering him in soft kisses while one of its hands gave his cock the same treatment it had given his nipples. His body jerked, and a moan escaped his lips. The demon nipped at his collarbone, then soothed the bite with licks. It dipped a finger inside of his cunt just as it latched onto his neck, sucking a deep bruise into his pale flesh. A second finger joined the first, and then a third, stretching him wider than its tongue had.

It’s preparing me, he thought. It’s stretching me open so it can fuck me.

And so it was. It added a final finger, opening and closing them with a scissor-like motion inside of him. And then it curled them harshly upward, pressing hard against that sensitive spot. He felt a spurt of something wet gush from his cunt around the demon’s fingers, earning a pleased rumble from its chest. It curled them again, and again, faster, harder, and the priest’s eyes rolled back in his head as he was overcome with pleasure.

There was a tightening in his lower belly, and he couldn’t stop his hips from bucking, his walls from clenching, his back from arching. The coil tightened quickly, and he shook his head, trying to rid himself of these sensations, to no avail.

“No, please… Don’t!” he begged. “I can’t!”

He was right on the very edge. One more second, and he’d-

The demon stopped all at once, removing its fingers and its lips, and pushed away from him to stand at the foot of the bed. The priest lay there, quivering and clenching around nothing, his cunt leaking and his chest heaving.

“Silly boy,” the demon chuckled. “You think I’ll let you cum around anything other than my cock?”

It slapped his cunt hard, and the priest cried out in pain. It grabbed his hips and pulled them off the edge of the bed, then settled itself between his legs. He finally got a good look at what he was dealing with. Its cock was as black as the shadows that made up its body, massive - at least the size of his forearm, with a tapered, pointed head and thick, ridged shaft, pronounced veins, and precum leaking from the tip like a faucet. Below them swung enormous balls, bigger than any he’d seen even on the horses in the stable or the bulls in the pasture.

“Please…” he begged, his voice barely a whisper.

“Please?” the demon asked. “Please what?”

It lined up and began to prod at his entrance.

“Please don’t do this…”

It smiled that sharp-toothed smile.

“Ah, and here I thought you were begging me to fuck you.”

He forced the head in all at once, and the priest cried out in pain.

“It won’t fit!” he screamed, but the demon only laughed wickedly.

“I’ll make it fit,” it promised, and forced another inch inside.

The pain was blinding, and he fisted handfuls of the bedding either side of him to ground himself against it.

“You’re so wet, I can slide right inside,” it teased.

Another inch, a wider stretch. The priest saw stars every time he opened his eyes.

“Your body wants me,” it told him. “Otherwise your pelvis wouldn’t be opening so readily my cock.”

He shook his head feverishly, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Yes,” it chuckled. “Your pelvis is opening up to allow me easier access, and your wet cunt slicked itself up to make pushing in easier. You want this. You want me.”

It snapped its hips forward, burying itself to the hilt in one swift motion. The priest screamed as it slammed against his cervix, but his voice seemed so far away, muffled by the ringing in his ears. It rutted into him, making itself comfortable inside of his body, the pointed tip of its cockhead nestling itself in the little dimple at the opening of his cervix. The tendril around one of his wrist loosened, and then slipped away, but before he could even think to try and throw a punch, the demon had his wrist in its hand. He was silently grateful for the relief on his shoulder as it guided his hand down, where it pressed his palm against his lower abdomen. There was a bulge there, and it moved beneath his hand as the demon rut into him.

His cock… it’s so big it’s making my stomach bulge…

He clenched involuntarily at the thought.

“You like that?” it purred. “I thought you might.”

It rested its hand over his, preventing him from pulling away.

“Why are you doing this?” the priest asked quietly.

“Why does anyone do anything?” the demon asked in reply. “Because I want to. Hush now,” it growled. “Enjoy it.”

But how could he enjoy anything when he was being violated so thoroughly? His body would never be the same after this. He would never be the same.

It gripped his hips tightly, but the priest didn’t move his hand from the bulge. Instead, he pressed down on it, though he wasn’t sure why. The demon hissed and its hips bucked forward harshly, pushing the priest upward on the bed. It pulled him back down and dug its claws into his thighs.

“If you make yourself tighter, you’re only going to make me want to fuck you harder. Unless that’s what you want?” it smirked.

“No!”

He didn’t know why he pressed down. He didn’t mean to, his hand did it on its own… The demon slid almost all the way out of him, and then pushed back in smoothly. The priest let out a long, low moan. The burning stretch had since given way to a pleasant feeling of fullness, and feeling that bulge in his stomach each time the creature bottomed out was doing something to him, making him feel things he wished he wasn’t feeling.

It pulled out again, then slid in, then out, then in, setting a slow, steady pace, fucking him with its entire length.

“Sto-o-op,” he moaned, the word broken each time its cockhead hit his cervix.

“I don’t think you really want me to,” it chuckled. “I think you want me to make you cum.”

“No…” he whined, even as embers ignited in his belly. “Please, don’t…”

It laughed, low and menacing as it picked up the pace, fucking him harder, faster. It pulled him back against it with each thrust, burying itself as deep as possible, bruising his virgin cervix. Wet squelching and skin slapping against skin filled the air like a song, and the priest’s little whines and moans harmonized beautifully. The embers quickly ignited into a blaze, and the spring began to tighten once more. The demon’s hands slid from his hips. One slipped between his legs to pinch and massage his hot, hard cock, while the other rested once more over the priest’s own.

He didn’t see the demon’s wicked smile, so tightly his eyes were closed, but he felt its thrusts become harsher, faster, until it was fucking him like an animal, growling and panting, warm drool dripping off of its lolling tongue and onto his belly. It pressed down hard on the bulge. The priest released a high-pitched whine at the added pressure, and the demon growled low.

“So fucking tight…” it breathed. “There’s nothing better than an innocent little virgin stretched around my fat cock.”

“Huh- uh….”

He couldn’t seem to form words anymore. His senses had narrowed until all his world consisted of was the monster violating his body and the pleasure radiating from his core.

“S..st-o-o-”

“Hmm? What’s that?” the demon purred. “Use your words.”

“Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh.” His voice broke with each thrust.

“No, I didn’t think so,” it grinned and slammed into him like a jackhammer.

The priest tried to arch his back, but the demon’s hand held him down, and that somehow only made the pleasure more intense.

“No… no, no, no,” he cried with each thrust as he rocketed toward the edge. “No, please!”

He came hard. His entire body tensed and curled in on itself, his cunt clenched and unclenched around the demon’s member, and he threw his head back and cried out. His eyes rolled back, his tongue lolled out, and his breath caught in his chest. The demon plowed deep, pushed itself in as far as possible, and then stilled as a feral growl rumbled in its throat. He could feel its cock throbbing, feel its heavy balls clenching against his ass as it released inside of him. Its seed was hot, and it flooded his cunt like a waterfall. It painted his walls white and leaked out past the demon’s ridged length to run in rivulets down his ass and pool beneath him, mixing with the slick that had gushed out of him earlier.

Tears streamed down his cheeks, a mixture of pain, pleasure, and grief, and it was all he could do to choke back his sobs in between gasping for air. He came down from his high much sooner than the demon did. It seemed like an eternity before the flood of cum finally stopped. It rubbed his belly softly over his uterus, thrust gently another couple of times, and then was gone.

The tendrils unwound themselves from around his body, the shadows retreated back into the far corners of the room, and the priest was left alone, a trembling, cum-soaked mess. His joints were sore from the unpleasant position he’d been trapped in for… how long had it been? He pushed himself off of the bed and unsteadily to his feet. It was only as a sliver of sunlight through the curtains lit upon his pale face that he realized it was dawn.

Hours. That creature had violated him for hours. He wiped his tears and used the tattered remains of his vestments to clean himself up before descending the stairs back to the dining room. He got dressed and threw his things together as quickly as he could, then all but sprinted for the door. It slammed behind him of its own accord, but he didn’t look back. He couldn’t.

All he could do was run and hope that whatever dark entity lived within that old stone church decided not to follow him home.

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#my writing #demon kink #blasphemy kink #corruption kink #demon x priest #demon x priest kink #terato #monsterfucker #monster kink #nonconsensual #oversized cock #oversized balls #excessive seed kink #virgin kink #age difference #size difference #primal kink #predator x prey

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yanderenightmare · 15 hours

Note

i love your hybrid au sm! the way you characterise each animal to suit not only it’s species, but the characters itself is so creative and nothing short of genius! so it got me thinking, how would you imagine the bnha characters as mythical creatures and monsters ??? ( eg. vampires, wendigos, harpies, werewolves ) etc.

it's been so long since did a funny lil piece like this

TW: implied noncon, yandere, the supernatural?

gn reader

Bakugou Katsuki

Demonic spirit

He enjoys large houses—preferably something with a bit of history. But every now and again, some moronic humans decide it’s time to wreck the old and build something new—which means he’s often on the move.

He doesn’t mind living alone in his new house until you move in. He’s a little mad at you at first—he thinks you’re one of those wreckers, what with your renovations and whatnot—but then he understands that you’re preserving, not destroying. Apparently, the Gothic manor is your ancestral home built by one of your great-grandparents seven generations back in the 18th century—seems you were the only descendant who felt it was worthwhile to keep.

He wouldn’t normally stay when someone else moved in—he’d often use his demonic means and scare them on their way. But with you, he settles for dwelling in the shadows, in the many dark rooms you haven’t found a use for yet. But when night comes, and you turn off the lights and go to bed, he can't help but end up in your room—watching you sleep, oh-so-peacefully and blissfully unaware of his presence. But he won’t do anything to you even though he could, even though you make it so easy—he’s grateful to you, his little housemate.

Your bedroom becomes awfully hot at night—you can’t explain it. Nor can you explain why the wind howling through the house sounds more like the groaning breaths of a beast. All you know is that your bed feels heavier than it should if you were the only one in it—and that you don’t dare twist around to see what it is sleeping next to you because whatever it might be, you don’t think it’s human.

You know it isn’t human. It’s too big to be, and its hands are too warm and too rough—and its claws too sharp where they rake into your skin and tuck you close to a chest that feels as though engulfs you. You don’t think it has a heart, only a stomach—and it sounds hungry.

You read up on sleep paralysis demons, and it brings you peace of mind, but only until night comes and you go to bed in wait. It’s the first time he talks to you. His laugh is like rusted clockwork, and his voice is like raked coals—hot and scratchy against your ear as he tells you how your human ways of rationalizing the things you don’t understand are cute and amusing.

Shigaraki Tomura

Ghost

You’ve moved into his old room, and though you furnish it a bit differently than he did when he was still alive, you’ve placed the bed in the exact same spot. It’s been all dust and dead moths up until now, it almost feels like he’s alive again as he sleeps next to your warm body.

It’s only small things in the beginning. Underwear that goes missing, unexplainable handprints on the foggy shower doors, your duvet on the floor even though you’ve never been one to kick it off in your sleep.

You’ve never been one to believe in the paranormal either, but something convinces you to search up the history of the house. You find out a boy had murdered his entire family here—parents, grandparents, his sister—and that the boy himself was never found.

Obviously, you shut your laptop with a bang and try and will it away from your mind. It happened years and years ago—whoever that boy was, he was long since dead. But the more it starts sinking in that you’re not alone, the more your belief feeds him—makes him feel real again, as though you’re slowly bringing him back to life.

Sometimes, you spot him in the mirror of your vanity, but when you twist around, there’s no one there. But you feel him—the gust of cold breath giving you goosebumps, the weight of hands and a chest pressing against yours at night, and the brush of coarse fingertips touching you in places—places that have you moaning his dead name.

Keigo Takami - Hawks

Guardian Angel

Being a guardian angel has always been a fun hobby of his ever since the creation—he’s found it to be a nice break from all the other angelic duties he has bearing down his wings. Of course, it’s always sad when your human dies, but luckily, there’s always another one not far behind to steal your halo all over again.

You’re his most recent. He watches over you any minute he can spare, chuckling over all your silly human antics. And though he’s had plenty of humans before you in the long history of man and God, he can’t help but confess you’re his favorite so far. You’re just so cute with your big, adorable eyes and pretty smile.

He begins taking greater pride in his responsibility of being your guardian. He used to see it as but a menial little task he could take to when feeling up for a laugh, but something about you makes him want to watch over you every single second of every day.

And so he does—he has the feathers to spare, especially for something so important. But soon, simply watching over you doesn’t feel like enough anymore.

He knows it’s wrong—so very wrong—so much so he’s afraid he’ll be cast out if anyone were to find out. It’s not right for angels to feel amorous for humans—most would call it deviant and demonic. But he can’t help himself—watching you in your vulnerable state while you undress, bathe, and sleep.

Still, it doesn’t feel like enough.

Maybe he’ll come to visit you one of these days.

Midoriya Izuku - Deku

Hybrid between fae and troll

He protects the forest and nurses all sick and wounded animals back to health, writing down the condition of trees and brushes in his notebook as he wanders for hours until he falls asleep in a moss bed beneath the stars. And though he knows his responsibility is purely to the forest, he can’t help but feel inclined to keep an eye on the little human who lives just beyond it. You’re just so cute with the way you walk the forest and sing songs you think no one hears—wearing your human clothing and living in your human abode behind walls and a door. He just finds it absolutely fascinating.

Sometimes, you feel like there’s something following you when you walk about the forest next to your house. You’ll turn around to see a cluster of rocks and greenery you could have sworn weren’t there when you walked by—you look away before allowing yourself to think the pile looks an awfully lot similar to a larger human’s huddled form. But sometimes you hear it—the sound of stone scraping methodically, as though walking. You don’t humor the thought until you start finding his footprints outside your house, on the path to the forest—feet thrice the size of your own and sunken as though made by something very heavy.

Your legs go out from beneath you once you first see him—not like those times you’d turned around only for him to pretend to be part of the earth—this time, he’s pretending to be more like you, and it only makes it all that much worse. He’s bigger than a bear, grey-skinned with flecks that remind you of freckles and hair like fresh moss sprouts. His eyes are as green as the fox-fire fungi when night falls—glowing with nocturnal light. When you try to run, he follows suit, making the ground shake so bad it knocks you over.

He carries you into the mountain where he lives and keeps you there from then on. After all, the part of him that’s fae has considered you his pet from the moment you took a bite of your first forest fruit. It was his gift to you whether you knew it or not, and now you’ll belong to him forever.

Shoto Todoroki

Vampire

It’s an awfully boring world. Not much to do when you feel you’ve done it all twice over. The taste of blood has become stale no matter how many different types he drowns himself in at night. Sometimes, he humors the thought of setting his manor ablaze if only to watch the fire roar until the sun rears the top of the roof and finally puts him to eternal rest. But he’s been thinking about it for two or more centuries already, and he’s beginning to doubt his nerve.

Dead things can’t make vows, so he must go on as he decided to when he was still alive—that’s the curse—only another person can break it.

You seem doable enough when you stride into his manor with your little sharpened sticks and silver daggers. It’s been a while since a hunter has graced his presence. The scent of holy water makes him lick his fangs, and the nearly irresistible urge to drink you dry almost has him pouncing on you—but he knows it would be but a fleeting high unworth it in the end when he’d have to live another millennium without the warmth of the sun or another soul.

He drops down before you with grace. You have the tip of your silver dagger pointed up under his chin in the same second but get stunted by his pale porcelain face, showing no signs of aggression and rather riddled with a bleak sort of melancholy you’re not used to seeing on the godless creatures.

He simply stands there, straight-spined and high-headed, with his hands folded behind his back as though showing you respect—and then, unprompted and to your great surprise, asks if you would please make it quick and put him out of his misery.

Touya Todoroki - Dabi

Hyrbid between incubi and vampire

He preys in nightclubs on those who have that mischievous glint in their eyes in dire hope their lust can match his. Every day, it’s a dozen new—he can never seem to find the right one—always starving and never sated no matter how much he gorges himself, always thirsting, always dying for more.

Until you.

You’re but a dainty wallflower who doesn’t want to be there, but you have this scent about you—garden-fresh, like something he’s never smelled before, and his tongue yearns for a taste. He knows what it is once he gets closer to you—the opposite of sin of all things, it’s innocence, and oh, how he craves to devour it whole.

His silver tongue has had so much practice that using it on your gullible ears makes him all but drool, asking you if you’d like some fresh air. You nod your head, big eyes looking at him as though he were some sort of saint for offering. He laps it up—it’s all he can do to pace himself. But when he has you alone, it’s all over for you.

He’s going to corrupt every last piece of you until that once peachy keen taste of innocence has become an ever sweeter taste of syrupy sin. He’s going to make you exactly like him—and your tall fall from grace will leave you blasphemous and beautiful.

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nirvanawrites111 · 8 months

Text

Set My Wings on Fire (DPR Ian x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You're smitten by the love of your life, Christian Yu and he's being painted as a dangerous person. But, you don't care cause that's your man and you're going to stick beside him. You're pretty much in love with a villain, but he's super sweet to you. Non-celebrity AU.

Pairing: DPR Ian x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2024

Warnings: Smut, PIV, oral sex (male rec), mentions of murder, praise kink, good girl, unprotected sex, creampie

This is part of a NEW SERIES called Duality. It's all about embracing switch!energy. Part 1 will be sub!reader and Part 2 will be dom!reader. Some of the stories will be 2 idols x reader, and some will be just 1 on 1.

Smut below the cut.

"You need to leave him alone," Your best friend voices as they stare at the large television on your wall. The dim glow casts a shadow across your living room.

You press your lips together and cross your arms. A tightness crawls up your chest. This is the last thing you want to hear right now. You are tired of hearing this comment right now. You feel around your couch for the remote. You can't bother to listen to the news channel any longer.

"Look," you begin, forcing yourself to meet their gaze. "I know Christian very well. The media is trying to make up stories about him. He's not the monster they're making him out to be," You speak up and express your feelings. You twist his ring that he gave you a year ago, and you decide to wear it as a necklace.

You know Christian better than anyone. Everything he does has a meaning and purpose behind it.

You stare at the image of his picture plastered on the television. His usual neat dark brown hair is a mess, and his eyeliner is smeared. Underneath his picture are large red letters "WANTED" that contrast against his pale complexion. Sure, he might seem dangerous to someone else, but to you, something magnetizes you to him.

"The man is a killer, Y/n. If he comes here, you need to turn him in. You don't want to go to jail for housing a fugitive, do you?"

"He isn't a killer. I don't care what the media is saying."

You pick up your phone off the couch table and see that he texted you five minutes ago that he was on his way. You quickly text back and tell him to wait until your best friend leaves.

"This man has brainwashed you. Hopefully, you realize the truth before it's too late." Your best friend raises their hands in defeat and stands up. "I gotta go. I'll see you at work tomorrow."

"He's not, but thanks for stopping by," you reply, trying to smooth things.

Your friend stands up and hugs you. You're glad they are leaving. There is nothing that will convince you that Christian is a bad person. Even with everything you know about him, you would never turn on him.

You walk with them to your front door, and the soft patter of your bare feet echoes against the polished hardwood floor.

Once they leave you close the door only to be slightly pushed open, revealing Christian.

There he is.

The only man that can make you melt to your knees. You want nothing more than to feel his hands all over you.

"Beautiful," Christian, your accented lover, whispers your favorite nickname. He steps into your home. His words allow you to fall to your knees and please your man. But, you don't want to act too thirsty.

He removes his hood with both hands and reveals his hair in messy, shoulder-length loose curls. The two of you stand in your foyer, and your eyes connect.

Christian has such a dark energy around him that it attracts you to him for whatever reason. It pulls you in so closely, like a moth to a flame. Regardless of what others say, you can still see the good in him. He's been nothing but kind, patient, and loving to you. So, really, that's all that matters to you.

"Are you okay?" You ask him.

Christian removes his sweatshirt, and your eyes trace over his tattoos. You run your hand over the one tattoo over his heart, your name.

"I'm so much better, now that I'm with you."

"I'm sure you know they're looking for you."

"I know," Christian sighs. "I'm also wanted for something. What is it this time?"

"Murder."

Christian stares into your eyes, and he can heart your heart beating fast. No one has ever cared about him more than you. Your unwavering loyalty is something he's searched for many years. Now, he's found exactly what he needs within you.

"Do you think I'm guilty?" Christian asks you.

"No, but if you did it, I know there was a reason."

"Good girl. You know your man oh too well," Christian praises you. He knows it's exactly what you need to hear in this moment.

Your lips curl into a smile, and you haven't looked away from him. He knows that nothing about him scares you. He's told you his deepest, darkest secrets. Because he knows he can trust you.

"I do. My best friend was just running their mouth talking about how I need to leave you alone. But, they don't know you like I do."

"Do you need me to handle that?"

"No, never that."

"We have some catching up to do. Don't we, angel?"

"Yes."

***

You turn on the shower and step into it first. Christian follows behind you. He presses you against the shower wall from behind. "My angel.. so pure. So innocent," he whispers into your ear.

Christian runs his hand down your back, enough to give you chills. You've missed feeling his touch against your skin.

"You know I'm far from innocent."

"Compared to me. You're a saint."

Christian attacks your neck with kisses. This instantly sends a warmth throughout your body. You've missed the way his lips feel against your skin. You don't care what happens when he's out of your sight. Because this man adores you, he'd do anything to protect you.

"Sweetness, tell me.." Christian pulls away from you and turns you around to face him. His gaze penetrates your eyes, searching for something unspoken. "Do you really love me?"

His eyes are full of emotions, and you can see the pureness in his question. But, at the same time, why would he question you this way? You've always supported him no matter what.

"Of course, I do. Why wouldn't I?"

"Even if I had to leave you for a bit?"

Your breath quickens, and you can feel your stomach churn. Is he going to up and leave you? Does this mean he's going to end things with you?

"Where are you going?" You twist your necklace.

Christian picks you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist as the warm water cascades down the two of you.

"I'm not sure. But, I'm leaving in 48 hours."

"Because of what I saw on the news?" You try to piece everything together. Did this mean that it was true? You didn't want to ask him what happened because you trusted him.

He promised you he would never do anything that would jeopardize his time with you. He stated that from the beginning. But, now, it felt like things were going differently.

"Yes."

"I'm coming with you."

"Hell no. I will get this sorted out. I will come back for you."

"No, I'm coming with you."

"Angel?"

"Yes."

"Don't I always come back for you?"

"Yes.. but."

"No, buts. Listen, you have to trust me. I will come back for you, okay?"

You nod. But, your fear is he's going to leave you.

"Angel, don't look so sad. I wish I could take you with me. It's going to pain me to leave you."

"Well let me taste you for the last time."

"Of course, angel."

Christian releases from his arms, and you get down on your knees. You look up at him.

He strokes your face and looks at you in such a loving way.

You hold your hands behind your back and swirl your tongue around his dick until he's halfway in your mouth.

You hum your favorite song and move your mouth up and down his length. This could be the last time you taste him, so you want to savor the moment.

You close your eyes and move faster and hear him moan. You love hearing him vocalize his satisfaction for you.

"Go deeper for me, angel," Christian instructs you, and you have no problem following instructions.

You take him deeper into your mouth, and he cradles the back of your head. He's moving with you to the point where you two are rocking as one.

At this moment, you are breathing through your nose because you only want to please him. You live to serve him. You are hopelessly devoted to him.

"Fuck.. just like this," Christian groans. "Don't stop, angel. God, you're so beautiful like this."

"Mmmhm," you barely manage to say because you have your mouth full and wouldn't want to have it any other way. Tonight has to count and hold you over.

"No one else can suck me the way you do. You're so amazing, angel," Christian continues to praise you, which encourages you to keep going because you know he's so close.

"You want this nut don't you?"

You nod without missing a beat, and both of his hands are on the back of your head. He's practically fucking your throat at this point.

He cums down your throat, and you swallow all of it.

Christian pulls you up to kiss you. He slips his tongue into your mouth and kisses you. As the kiss deepens, you can't help but run your fingers along your pussy only to find that it are dripping for him.

"Thank you for that amazing blow job, angel. You're always amazing."

"No problem."

Christian wraps his arms around you. "Mhmm.. I'm ready to feel all of you now. You want that, baby?"

"Yess.."

"How do you want me?"

"From behind.. like this." You turn around, place your hands against the shower wall, and arch your back.

Christian places his hand against your lower back and moves his dick along your entrance. "You know I love taking you from behind. Do you want me here or do you want back door."

"Here.. I want to feel you deep inside me. I prefer anal when I'm pegging you."

Christian kisses on the side of your neck. "I know baby.. next time when I come home. We can celebrate with pegging." He sucks on your neck and inches himself into you.

Feeling him inside of you feels like home. There's nothing like having him deep inside of you.

"You're so tight for me, angel," Christian whispers against your neck, kissing gently against the spot he just sucked on.

You moan out his name and enjoy him being inside of you again.

The feeling is euphoric, and you get lost in the moment of being one with your lover again. His hands cover and clasps with yours as he strokes into you.

You hope you celebrate with him, but you want to enjoy this moment. You arch your back a little more as he increases the pace. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure throughout your body. It feels too good. You deserve to experience this type of heaven on earth.

Christian holds you in place as he slows down with each backshot he gives you, and he reaches from behind and runs his hand down the front of your love nest. He moves to your clit and strokes it.

"Yesss, baby! I love when you rub my clit," you moan out.

"I know you do." Christian continues to rub it while you tighten around his dick. "My baby is close. Are you going to cum on my dick?"

"Mmhmm," you moan. But, at the point, you're already trembling from the combination of his teasing your clit and being buried inside you. The sensation is perfect. It's a feeling that never gets old. No matter how many times he gives you an orgasm, it always feels as good as the first time.

"So, be a good girl and cum for me."

"That's it.. baby. Cum on dick." He instructs you and talks you through it. You obey him easily. You release onto his dick. He's right there with you as he pumps into you until he cums inside you.

"Mmm.. thank you, baby," you say, trying to catch your breath.

"No, thank you angel. You were wonderful as always. I can't wait to celebrate with you when I come back."

If you enjoyed this please reblog. It helps other find my work.

Part 2

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themainspoon · 8 months

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I keep seeing polls made for people unfamiliar with a piece of media to ask them to try and identify the thing that does not happen in said media, and I always thought those looked like a lot of fun! So, I decided to make one, and I already knew the perfect franchise for one: The World of Darkness (WoD) TTRPG franchise. The WoD is a franchise containing several different TTRPG’s about playing as monsters, and it has some of the most unhinged lore I have ever come across.

Almost everything above is heavily simplified for the sake of fitting into the poll boxes btw. Also, I promise that this is not a trick. Ten of the Eleven options presented above actually are a part of this franchises seemingly infinite Metaplot. I’ll schedule a reblog containing the answer and some much needed context for everything above.

#tumblr polls #polls #World of Darkness #vampire the masquerade #werewolf the apocalypse #mage the ascension #changeling the dreaming #demon the fallen #wraith the oblivion #a certified themainspoon classic

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kirbyskisses · 1 year

Note

monster iwa…. is rewiring my brain chemistry

oh sem. my queen, you have awakened my little godzilla/mothra = iwaizumi/reader heart. i will now enter a feral unhinged state - i take no responsibility for what is about to happen.

tw: hybrids, monsterfucking, breeding mention, size kink, “just the tip”. minors/ageless blogs dni

godzilla type hybrid!iwa, a monster man with these huge muscular, gray-scaled arms and claws, sharp teeth, a long, heavy tail and back spines. still with that handsome face, a head of dark-brown hair and cold green-grey eyes that bore down on you. he’s so big

has a downright possessive love for his queen - a good-hearted little thing - mostly human but with fuzzy hair, bright eyes and precious moth wings.

he groans and curses and roars - a grumpy protector - but alway simmers down into a loud, comforting purr when he wraps his tail and huge body around you.

he doesn’t quite get what your chirps and cries are about while his slippery, long, blue tongue penetrates you but he doesn’t mind too much.

“have to prep you, little lady. st’p trying to close yer legs! i’m not gonna hurt my lovely queen. just gonna eat you up…”

and he does. :(

eats your fat little pussy like a man starved - huge claws breaking into the nest he’s made below you so they don’t tear into your thick thighs instead.

monster!iwa has no technique, he doesn’t need any. :(

has a tongue so long it slobbers on your clit while reaching deep, deep inside your walls.

a constant squelchsquelchsquelch and unceasing suckling noises echo around as he only takes breaks to say “sweetest fuckin’ pussy,” “that’s m’ goddess - stretch nice and wide…” before spitting on the overstimulated bundle of nerves and starting again.

you must’ve cum four times by the time he stops, wings, antennae and body twitching and twittering barely able to make a coherent noise - pussy lips still convulsing after minutes on end.

monster!iwa is so big you can feel him deep, deep in your tummy when he thrusts his cock in.

promises to start with the tip but your gummy walls are so addictive, so sweet and drippy around his bulbous tip that he can’t resist and lets out a choked roar as he bottoms out inside you.

*sniffle* trying to grip the hardened scales on his shoulders. :((

trying to kick or fly or do something, anything to get the pressure out because it’s so fat inside you but you’re immobilized - by his weight on top of you, his tail wrapping behind you - pulling you into him

his monstrous, long tongue delving inside your mouth forcing you to suck on the slippery muscle as your pussy sucks in his cock ☹️

the obscene sounds your little cunt makes reverberate around the room, mingling with high-pitched whines and breathless moans

“that’s my pretty little moth. my cute little queen.” he smirks, practically able to see the thoughts leave your brain; there’s nothing but him, him, him

and fuck, you’re so small. so delicate. chubby and soft with the most beautiful wing and eyes. gone is your usual bubbly smile - just your perfect lips letting out tiny gasps.

he growls like an animal when you mutter, barely coherent.

“look ‘t me. look ‘t your king - open your eyes and say it louder.”

and so you do, because he’s the king of the monsters and he’s filling you too well for you to disobey.

“wan’ your eggs hajime, pleaseeee - wan’ your babies!”

and he bares his sharp teeth with a vicious smirk at the thought of you heavy with his hybrid heir, breasts milky and full - your plump little form unable to do anything ‘cept waddle ‘nd cry for your big kaiju husband to help you. ☹️

of your plump little form unable to do anything ‘cept waddle ‘nd cry for your big kaiju husband to help you. ☹️

oh, he’s addicted.

#queen sem😩😩😩#I am the world’s biggest godzilla fan he was made for me.#also check out my post about kaiju no 8 for more monster!iwa #monster!iwa #tw monsterfucking #tw hybrids #hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #smut #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer #mothzilla #kirby’s asks🌸#x plus size reader #x chubby reader #x black!reader

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abyssruler · 2 years

Text

breaking up, breaking down

pairing/s: albedo, childe, diluc, kazuha, scaramouche, xiao, venti, zhongli x gn!reader

summary: if there’s anything you can expect to be consistent in life, it’s that everything has an end. or — genshin men and how they are after you break up with them.

note: angsty in everyone’s part, but it got too lighthearted in childe’s bc i simply cannot take that ginger seriously (affectionate)

ALBEDO

There aren’t any notable changes to his routine. He’d still go about his day, working on his experiments and scribbling down notes, occasionally taking a break to sketch a pretty flower he saw or the wing pattern of a passing butterfly.

And then he finds himself drawing the outline of an eye, then a nose, then lips. Until he suddenly stops in the middle of drawing a strand of your hair blowing in the wind, your face frozen in a smile staring back at him through the canvas of his sketchbook.

It hits him then, the realization, the heart-wrenching clarity of what happened that leaves him sitting in his chair, staring at your face in paper and wondering where he went wrong.

He tries to distract himself by continuing his research, but his mind has a hard time focusing on what needs to be done. It’s agonizing, he doesn’t think he’s felt this way before, never even thought he’d ever feel such pain. In a way, he’s glad his master isn’t here to make a study of what emotional pain means to an artificial human like him.

He sees you two weeks after you broke up with him, laughing as you tried to haggle with a merchant for their wares, unaware of the charm you exude that draws people in like moths to a flame. But then your gaze moves, searching through the crowd—and Albedo should really leave now, avoid barging into your life because there simply isn’t a place for him there anymore—but he does none of that.

Your eyes meet. He doesn’t think he was imagining it when he saw yours dim for the briefest moment. (His heart hurts. Why are you looking at him like that?)

You make your way through the busy street to reach him. He tells himself he should leave, but for the first time in his life, he does what contradicts his logic and stays.

“You look good,” you tell him, something melancholic in the tone of your voice. Oh, if only you knew.

“You as well.” He wants to say more, wants to say how radiant you looked under the sun, the light hitting you in just the right way that has him itching to grab a pencil and immortalize the image in paper—but he holds his tongue. “I need to go.”

Your face falls. He wishes he wasn’t the cause of it. “Ah, right. You must be busy, as usual.” There isn’t a hint of bitterness to your voice, just resignation.

He leaves after bidding you goodbye, feeling the heat of your gaze at his back as he walked away.

CHILDE

He wants you and he will do everything in his power to have you back.

In the early days after you broke up, you won’t hear a word from him. Not a peep. You only hear passing news that dead monsters and hilichurl camps near the vicinity of your home have been utterly eradicated. Passing travelers claim how the areas were ‘strangely flooded’ even though it hasn’t rained in weeks.

Then come the gifts. From flowers to clothes to accessories to different delicacies that are all worth more than your entire life’s paycheck. And when that doesn’t work, Childe sets to work on his recruits.

You suddenly find yourself constantly being approached by a startling amount of Fatui recruits ranging from normal lackies to gunners to cicin mages, and even that one memorable time when a mirror maiden approached you in the middle of buying groceries and proceeded to buy everything in the store, saying all of it was for you.

The Fatui recruits had one thing in common: they all had nothing but praises to say for the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger.

“Master Childe defeated all the recruits in under ten seconds!” “Have you heard how Lord Harbinger killed twenty geovishaps and came out without a single scratch?” “I saw him buying that exact same shirt yesterday, it cost one million mora! He’s so rich!” “Lord Tartaglia has been so down lately. He keeps saying how much he misses his beloved.”

“Did you know? Even Lady Signora wept after she heard that you and Master Childe broke up.” That one, you’re certain never actually happened, and you made sure to tell that with an unimpressed look to the pyro agent who told you. As if Signora would ever cry, she’d probably throw a party for you for finally leaving Childe.

In the end, after cycling through so many recruits, he had no choice but to come to you directly.

…Which is how you woke up at six in the morning to the ground shaking and the sound of an eerily familiar laugh right outside your house.

You open your window to find Childe fighting a lawachurl right in front of your house, a ring of Fatuus surrounding and cheering him on. His smile brightens to an almost comical degree once he sees you and your bedhead squinting out from a window.

“You look so stunning today, beloved!” He steps back from an earth-shattering punch by the lawachurl. “I’ve brought you the biggest lawachurl I could find so I can show you how worthy I am of you!”

He then proceeds to—and you have to blink a few times to see if you’re not hallucinating—fist fight the lawachurl. And he’s actually winning. No vision, no weapon. Just his bare fists.

When the commotion wakes up your entire neighborhood, you have to go down there and yell at him to stop or take this fight somewhere that isn’t right in front of your house! He complies with a grin and a promise saying he’ll meet you later.

There’s something fond curling in your chest that you try and fail to smother. With an exasperated tone, you tell him that yes, you’ll find time in your busy schedule to meet him. He lights up like you just agreed to marry him and yells out rapid orders in Snezhnayan to his recruits.

“I’ll see you later!” He blows a kiss in your direction that you ignore. You turn away and walk back into your house, trying (and failing) to fight the growing smile on your face.

DILUC

It’s not evident to anyone who doesn’t know him well, but Diluc takes it close to heart and buries it among countless other regrets that have accumulated in his life. The turbulent feelings that threaten to overcome his mind at any hour of the day manifests itself in him becoming more withdrawn.

He’s gloomy, more brooding than usual, and the reason becomes apparent once the other patrons notice the lack of a certain person who usually sits by the bar during his shifts. Your usual laugh accompanied by teasing grins and playful swats at his long hair when you think no one is looking are nowhere to be seen.

One particularly drunk person had come up to him as he was wiping down the counters and asked why you weren’t there. Anyone who had been there to see the sight would tell you that he didn’t say anything, hadn’t been able to say anything. He just… stood there, hands frozen mid-motion and eyes drawn somewhere, lost in thought.

He slips up sometimes. Asks the maids to prepare a dinner for two only to stop in the middle of talking as he realizes what he just said. At breakfast, he pauses in the middle of reading his daily papers to turn his head to the right, a question on the tip of his tongue that dies when he sees the empty spot you usually occupied. It’s the pitying gazes that follow when he slips up that he hates the most.

He makes your favorite drink sometimes, on the days when he’s on shift and feeling particularly self-destructive. It stays hidden under the bar counter, hoping against hope that you’ll walk through the door and greet him with an upbeat ‘good evening!’ that makes his day all the more better. You never do.

It’s on a bright, sunny morning when he’s out overseeing the delivery of wine to the tavern that he sees you again. His heart soars for all but a second before it comes crashing down, because Diluc Ragnvindr does not deserve nice things.

You’re holding the hand of some nondescript man, grinning and laughing and emitting such a great sense of contentment that he can almost feel it from where he’s standing meters away from you.

You’re happy. It’s been months and he’s still wallowing in old hurts. You’re happy.

Did you ever smile like that when you were with him? He likes to think so, but the realistic, pessimistic thought is that you’re probably better off not being with him. You’re happy. Happier now than you were when you were with him.

Everything he’s ever loved has been hurt directly and indirectly by his hands. He turns away from the sight of you and pretends to be preoccupied with his task. Maybe it’s for the best that you left before it could happen.

KAZUHA

He tries not to take it to heart. He understands why you left, knows it before you even made the decision to leave. And in the aftermath, much like a leaf adrift in the wind, he roams about aimlessly, lost in thought.

Grief is not an emotion he’s unfamiliar with. As he sits by the cliffs overlooking the endless ocean, grief burrows its way to his chest like an old, unwelcome friend. He doesn’t fight it. He’s learned the hard way that fighting it is a losing battle, like picking at a scab, hoping that doing so will make it heal faster, yet only succeeding in worsening the wound.

Kazuha isn’t a stranger to loneliness, of letting the wind kiss his tears away as they dried on his cheeks. He is, however, unfamiliar with this new kind of ache in his chest. And only after much rumination does he conclude what it might be.

The loss of his family, the loss of his heritage, the loss of his friend, and now, the loss of his lover. A master of loss, he could almost call himself. His old friend would certainly find such a title amusing.

He finds himself writing letters to you, even with the knowledge that he’ll never be able to send them to you. It’s the thought that comforts him, the pretense that he still has someone to tell of his travels, someone to simply come home to, even when he knows he isn’t welcome anymore.

In his weakest moment, when he had too much to drink and too little self-restraint, he sends one of the letters to you. He’s forgotten whether it’s the one where he laments the loss of your presence, the one where he begs you to have him back, or the one where only three words are written, a small blot in the ink where a stray tear had fallen.

He waits, and waits, and waits a little more, staying for a whole month in the small village he’d addressed the letter from for the small, improbable event that you may have written back. He learns later on that the letter never made it to your hands. The ship it had been on had lost all its cargo to the sea, including his letter. When he heard the news, he hadn’t known whether to be relieved or lament on what could have been.

It isn’t unpleasant to see you again. Kazuha has had time to let go of his hurt, but still, the image of your nostalgia-inducing eyes leave in him a sense of loss he thought he had already settled. Your mirage smiles, “Kazuha.” Had he been a weaker man, he would have folded and swept you up in his arms.

Nobody asks why his eyes have a slight sheen to it after he forces himself to walk away from you. He stands atop the beach and lets the waves wash over his bare feet, closing his eyes and imagining what could have been had he let himself succumb to the desire of holding you one last time, even if you were merely a mirage from the past.

Truly, the golden apple archipelago is a place where dreams are made into reality.

SCARAMOUCHE

He tries to act above it all, feigning indifference as if the entire thing is just a mild inconvenience to him.

Oh, you’re leaving him? That’s fine, he doesn’t care. Do you know how many people would kill to share his bed? You were tolerable, a way to pass time. Don’t think you were anything special. You, a normal person? Don’t make him laugh. You were nothing more than a pet he kept because you entertained him. It’s good that you’re leaving, actually. It saves him the trouble of having to get rid of you.

He’s… not very kind about it all. Defensive and on guard, hackles raising with every word that comes out of his mouth. He hates every second of it, but he can’t stop because stopping is to admit defeat, it means having to acknowledge that you meant something to him after hundreds of years of loneliness. He let you in his carefully guarded walls, and now—now you’re leaving him? Abandoning him after he bared himself open to you?

You are just like her.

Scaramouche stops before he can say those last words. The red that had been threatening to overcome his vision slowly recedes, leaving a numbing sort of clarity that washes over him like the rising tides of Inazuma’s beaches. His mouth feels dry, throat closing up.

There are tears streaming down your face.

He wishes you’d do something. Hit him, yell at him, curse his name. Anything. Just… anything but this silence that hangs heavy in the air, cloying in it’s thickness and threatening to drown him with words that can never be taken back.

He doesn’t apologize, won’t ever apologize. He is a god, and not even you would make him say those damnable words. He sees the way your eyes dim in understanding as you realize the same thing, and that, perhaps, is why you turn your back to him and walk away.

He wishes he could say that he called out for you, that he grabbed your arm and made you stay, that he just… held you. Instead, he watches you leave him, face blank and a phantom ache resonating in his hollow chest. The silence after you leave feels like the night before his creator abandoned him.

He tells himself it’s fine, that you’ll come back. You always do. This is just one of many arguments that always get resolved after a day or so—except. Except, he doesn’t let himself think of any other possibility. You’ll come back. (You have to.)

The months following your absence is a blur, spikes of irritation mixed with hateful words and barbed insults directed towards anyone who so much as breathed the wrong way. His subordinates are half-contemplating desertion just to escape his wrath. They all wonder where you’ve gone. You’re usually the one who soothes the Balladeer when he’s in one of his moods, like the godsend that you are. Though none of them are brave enough to mention your name after what he did to the foolish recruit who asked of your whereabouts.

Years pass. You never did come back.

He still gets the occasional reports about you and your general wellbeing, still sends out his best soldiers to clear out any monsters who’ve settled near your home. You never find anyone else after him. It brings a strange sense of relief in him when his monthly reports on you end up without a hint of a new lover.

He tries to forget you, but even with a new heart and the ascendance to godhood, there is still a lingering sense of loss and past regrets.

XIAO

He lets you go without argument. He’s used to people leaving him, but this is… different.

The thought of you there, physically within reach yet unable to to cross the distance that separates you from him. It’s a different kind of agony from the ones that have afflicted him for millennia.

He sometimes finds himself standing by the balcony of Wangshu Inn, eyes roaming over the vast landscape of Dihua Marsh, looking for the slightest hint of your silhouette. The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs always attracts his attention, anticipating your signature greeting and the smell of whatever mortal sustenance you’ve deigned to make for him to, as you once put it, let him experience the delicacies that this world has to offer.

You can’t call yourself ‘having lived a long life’ if you haven’t tried all the tasty food, Xiao!

…He misses you, though he will never admit it, perhaps not even to Rex Lapis himself.

His time—which once consisted of you, killing monsters, you again, roaming the lands for the remains of old gods, tasting whatever you cooked for him, and accompanying you so you can get home safely—is now comprised of nothing but endless slaughter. He tells himself it’s not a distraction, but it’s a thinly veiled excuse, weak even to his own ears. How low he has fallen to create such feeble excuses to justify the hurt that spreads from his chest to the tips of his fingers.

He used to pick up small things and trinkets in his time scouring the land for evil. A shiny pebble that reminded him of your eyes, a particularly large sweetflower that you would gape comically at once he showed you, qingxin flowers he plucked from the highest mountains just so he can see the way your face lights up in a smile. He still does all these things, only now, the objects are stored in a realm made in the likeness of your home, placing each one in a shelf or table that he thinks you would have arranged them in.

One time, he panics when he sees the flowers start to wilt, and in the heat of the moment, he placed adeptal power in them to ensure they will never die. To this day, he isn’t sure why he did so, only that he imagined at the time how upset you would be that they died in his care, even though he knows how unlikely it is that you will ever discover his hobby of collecting flowers and storing them in his realm.

Perhaps he hopes you’ll come back to him, so that when you do, he can see the way your eyes brighten up once he shows you everything he got for you while you were away.

It’s unlikely, he knows, but it’s nice to dream of it. He thinks his siblings would be proud to see him finally have a little hope for something.

VENTI

He spends the rest of the week in the tavern drinking as much as he can. For once, Diluc doesn’t try to reproach him for drinking what he can’t pay for.

He doesn’t exactly get drunk—can’t get drunk, more like. To a god like him, drinking a hundred barrels of Mondstadt’s finest wines won’t even be enough to get him tipsy. He is the god of freedom (and wine, he’d like to add), he can outdrink every single one of the archons and still have enough semblance to go to war. And yet…

You appear on the seventh day like a salvation, face contorted in worry when you see him slumped on the counter and one inch away from falling off the stool. It isn’t difficult to act the part of a drunken bard, pretending to sway on his feet and donning a fake intoxicated grin as he asked Charles for another glass.

The wind tells him of your arrival, but he ignores it just as he ignores the way his heart soars when the wind brings him the barest hint of your scent. He wishes you didn’t come here. He wishes he didn’t act so drunkenly. He wishes you were more heartless and ignored whoever must have tattled on him drinking Angel’s Share into bankruptcy.

You call his name. He pretends he’s asleep just so he doesn’t have to face his problems. Ha. How ironic. Will he wake up to Mondstadt destroyed by the remains of Khaenri’ah this time? He nearly did once.

He hears you sigh before he feels you bring his arm across your shoulders. You help him get off the stool, an arm around his waist to help keep him steady. The weight of Diluc’s disapproving gaze for deceiving you about his drunkenness is heavy, but he tells himself it’s alright. He just… wants to be selfish for once. If he has to act drunk to feel your arms around him again, he’ll suffer this humiliation as many times as he can.

“Venti,” you start as you walk him in the direction of your home. “I was worried, you know. Aether told me how much you’d been drinking since…” You trail off. He feels you shaking your head before continuing, “Just… don’t be so reckless with your health.” You laugh, mildly sardonic that’s directed more towards yourself than him. “Ah, what am I saying… you won’t even have any recollection of this tomorrow anyway.”

He wants to say something, but saying something means breaking this moment between you, it means revealing that he doesn’t actually need your help because once he starts speaking, the dam will break and everything will come spilling out. I’m sorry, I miss you, I love you.

The front door to your house opens. He’s gently placed down your couch, a blanket thrown over him as you thoughtfully take his shoes off for him. He feels you linger by his side, can practically hear the conflict in you.

He’s unprepared for the feeling of your warm breath on his skin, your lips hovering over his face before placing a chaste kiss on his forehead. “Goodnight, Venti.”

He leaves before the sun rises.

ZHONGLI

He only smiles, small and understanding with a hint of sorrow at the corner of his eyes.

He tells you he’ll respect your decision, but should you change your mind, he will always be here. You say it’s doubtful, he would’ve probably found someone else by then. Zhongli doesn’t correct you, only leans in and places his lips on the top of your head, as gentle as he’s always been with you, somehow managing to convey with a single gesture how high he holds you in regard.

And for the barest, infinitesimal moment, you half-contemplate the idea of staying. It’s a wishful thought. You end up leaving before you can change your mind.

He’s still as grounded as ever, but there’s a fragility to it, a certain brittleness that threatens to crumble from within him. He is the Lord of Geo, and yet he is so easily undone by you. The pain is temporary, he knows from past losses, but it doesn’t lessen the ache that resonates in his chest.

For the first time in his long life, he curses his golden memory that makes him incapable of forgetting, though that which he curses is also something he is grateful for. He can’t bear having to suffer losing the memories of your time together.

Your relationship is amiable, like that of old, awkward friends you had fallen out of touch with rather than that of old lovers. It’s what you wanted after all, this sense of normalcy. He has become such a vital part of your daily life that you simply couldn’t cut him off of your life entirely.

He doesn’t know which is worse; having to act as a mere friend when he wants nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and never let go, or to have no contact with you at all.

Morax is not one to ask for things, not one to plead his case to anyone. He was a selfish and proud god, a necessity that was shaped from him by the war. To love a mortal enough to leave his throne and fake his death would have been unthinkable. But that is why he is no longer Morax. He is Zhongli.

And Zhongli? He wants you. Desperately. Enough that he is willing to beg should you ask it of him.

His deceased enemies would laugh in mockery at what has become of the fearsome Morax. How low he has fallen—but it is a burden he is willing to bear. He will suffer as many humiliations as it takes to have you back.

The only issue is that you don’t want him anymore. But he is a man who finds gold where others would see stone. If he has to build his way up from friendship all over again, then it is a task he will do so gladly. As many times as it takes for you to want him back.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #albedo x reader #albedo kreideprinz x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #ajax x reader #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #xiao x reader #venti x reader #zhongli x reader #gn reader

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skyeslittlecorner · 2 months

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Can I request some scenarios between Mc and the kings? Like how MC is amused by the king's powers and they let MC play with it.

Yeah like play with Satan's weapons and be bitten by him, Mammon's golden hand and the ability to build buildings, Leviathan's monsters and ropes, Beelzebub... 🤷‍♀️ Not sure if playing with the clones or flies better 🫢 (it's just my thoughts, you can write the things that easier for you to write ofc :3)

As a descendant of Solomon, we have access to the power of kings (chapter 4 for example). I wonder how much fun they will have when we use these powers~

Satan's power isn't just about creating weapons. He can create anything from scythes to diamonds. It also works much better if you bite the one who loves you the most. At this point, the entire Gehenna will lie down at your feet, offering you their wrists, necks, or - nothing else, because even by offering the neck, Satan will kick their asses so much that they will fly for a week. He himself is at your service. He will be amused, wiping the blood dripping from your chin, and watching the destruction you bring in his name.

Mammon will offer you private lessons. Making fists is fun, but when you try something more complicated, you end up with very poor modern art sculptures. You need to have at least the basics of sculpture and architecture so that what you have in your head translates into reality. The wasteland where you practice will become an art gallery in the future, and the little demons will have to interpret what you meant. Of course, some of them are Neo Armstrong Cyclone Jet Armstrong Cannon.

Beelzebub rather wants you to play with his teleportation than his clones. But okay, no problem, he can clone himself enough times for you to be a couple and a hundredfold. Of course, you can't be with him and the other demons like this. After all, stealing your lover is the ultimate crime, and you are still you. As for the insects, Beel is curious which of you they will listen to more. He will order them to submit completely to you so that you can have fun. He will show you the most beautiful of them, such as moths and butterflies, but also the tastiest... at least in his opinion.

Leviathan. Phew. Dear. There are *so many* possibilities here. Ropes, tentacles and a masochist, what more could you want? His monsters are not very cooperative, at least at first, which is why you will hear a few comments about your incompetence. Then you can shove all these words down his throat when, with a wave of your finger, you tie him up like a puppet and tell your tentacles to play with his own little tentacle. Or maybe you will play with them yourself and make him watch, enjoying his jealousy and fury… there are many options.

#whb #what in hell is bad #skye's little talk #whb beelzebub #whb satan #whb leviathan #whb mammon

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multifandom--mess · 2 months

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Hannigram Fic Recs! pt.2

Here it is, the big fat fic recs post I've been putting off for like two months but at least that means I had time to read a shit ton of fics. I made sure to do a mix of short and long fics this time around since the first part were all long ones. Enjoy!

part 1

》 The Lamb and His Monster by petrodactyl352 (Explicit)(104k)

Will has always been drawn to the macabre. The proverbial flame upon which he has burnt his fragile moth’s wings time and time again, it’s why he had fallen in love with Florence and why he alone seems to see the beauty in the grisly but exquisite work of Il Mostro. But when he meets a young man in the Uffizi Gallery whose sketchbook is filled with nothing but page upon page of intricate renditions of the Primavera drawn in reverent strokes of pencil, he realizes he may not be alone in his fascination with the Monster. As they lift veils and scale forts and slowly begin to understand each other, Will gets a taste of exactly how bright the cinders of intrigue can burn—and how quickly they can kindle into an inferno of obsession.

(Young hannigram in Florence ahhh this is seriously one of the best fics i've ever read it had to be at the top of the list)

》 Spectral Hearts by mattHughdancy (Explicit) (16k)

Will has a meltdown at a crime scene. Guess who’s called in to help.

(Another top fave of mine they are so fucking cute in this fic 🤧 features autistic Will, and Hannibal just loves him so much oh my goddd my heart exploded reading this)

》 lay like a flood spills away by bleakmidwinter (Explicit)(35k)

Will Graham meets Hannibal, a frequent cruiser, at an open-minded nudist lake. Despite his reservations, Will is drawn to him, but is eventually forced to question his mysterious nature when the lakeside regulars start to go missing.

(I loved this one bc what better setting than a nudist lake. This is just gay as hell honestly lmao bc the lake is all dudes and Will is "straight" at the beginning until he meets Hannibal and it's all downhill from there. Definitely give this one a read it had some hilarious moments too)

》 Doing Things That Friends Don't Do by HigherMagic (Explicit) (39k)

A year after the fall, Will and Hannibal have settled into a fairly blissful, domestic harmony. But Will's imagination has never let him simply enjoy what he has - why should it start now?

(Basically Will trying everything in his power NOT to have sex with Hannibal but of course we all know he can't keep it together. They are so horny for each other in this i died laughing so many times. Also this author is such an amazing writer expect multiple recs from them in this post)

》 Railroad Romance by OneWhoSitsWithTurtles (12k)(Explicit)

Hannibal is still Hannibal, and Will is still Will. Except Will is not part of the FBI and they meet on a two day train trip from New Orleans to Baltimore.

(A strangers to lovers meet-cute on a train. Lots of fluffy moments and of course train sex ensues)

》 Three Stars by beforethedawn (94k)(Explicit)

Three months after the fall, Jack finally tracks them down in Canada and Will and Hannibal have to make a run for it, slumming it through America in three star hotels and eating sub par food.

(Hannigram roadtrip!! This fic was so fun I loved it. They take on the identities of some familiar Mads and Hugh characters ;)

》 Unexpected Delight by HigherMagic (Explicit) (61k)

Will has a kink that he’s deeply ashamed of. Unbeknownst to him, Hannibal has the same or a similar/compatible kink. They get together, and Will is going out of his way as he usually does to seem like his sexual tastes are as “normal” as possible. As a result, Hannibal gets the idea that Will is super vanilla and maybe a little prudish, and not wanting to scare him off, is also keeping his kinky side on the DL. This goes on for while, with them each trying super hard to hide how kinky they are and act as “vanilla” as possible, to hilarious results, all while privately thinking the other one would be super freaked out if they knew since they’re obviously so sweet and normal.

(This whole thing is literally ALL smut 😭😭 but Han and Will love each other to death and the sex is so good y'all omg I had to stop reading multiple times to catch my breath)

》 The Substitute by Devereauxs_Disease (Explicit) (10k)

When Hannibal tells Will he's sick, Will is skeptical. Before he knows it, he's laying in a hospital bed and being told he's going nowhere for two weeks. Will is distraught until Hannibal swoops in and offers to take over Will's courses at the FBI Academy. Will doesn't mind Hannibal showing up every night with a home-cooked meal, but he might just resent Hannibal becoming the most popular teacher at the Academy in just two weeks...

(A seaon 1 au if Hannibal wasn't an asshole had told Will about the encephalitis. This is hilarious tho because the students don't like Will no more when he comes back and they keep asking about Hannibal 😭😭 poor Will lmaoo)

》 When This Old Tired Body Wants to Sing by KareliaSweet (Explicit) (7k)

“Fuck me quicker, darling,” he purrs with liquid insincerity, “God forbid you see my face.” Will never touches him unless it is in the dark. In the daylight he is a ghost.

(Will being an asshole and only fucking Hannibal in the dark ugh 🙄 but things work out eventually so don't worry!)

》 Maybe Tomorrow by Shotgun_sinner (Explicit) (26k)

After recovering from their tumble off a cliff, Will agrees to get Hannibal to Portugal, where the good doctor can start a new life for himself. In exchange, Will can take the boat and return to his life, or start over himself. A storm hits on the open water, leaving them stranded somewhere in the Azores. With no one else on the small island, they're forced to work together for survival, and work through their violent past in order to get along.

(A survival au! I LOVED this and author is another fave of mine. I go crazy for a good stranded on a deserted island trope and this did not disappoint. Also there is an insanely funny part where I absolutely DIED. You'll know when you read it 💀💀)

》 I've Always Been A Daughter by air_of_the_Waterfall (44k)(Explicit)

It's been a month since Will and Abigail ran away with Hannibal. Living in a safe Canadian town, Will and Hannibal are free to explore their newfound intimacy and Abigail has a chance at the future she craves. However, upon meeting Hannibal’s sister Mischa and her daughter, loyalties are tested and insecurities run rampant. The Lecters have an undeniably dark past, and as Abigail and Will fall deeper into its truths, Hannibal’s manipulation and misguided love come to light more clearly than ever before.

(This fic is truly a hidden gem I am so glad I found it. Murder family post-mizumono and also MISCHA LIVES. The plot is so well written and I love Mischa's characterization. Definitely give this one a read, yall it is SO GOOD it deserves so much love)

》 Home is Not a Place by Shotgun_Sinner (11k)(Explicit)

Post-Fall, Hannibal recovers from his injuries. Will takes care of him, and their relationship evolves much more easily than Hannibal thought it would. The only issue is that Will is a constant presence, and he hasn't had alone time in three years. It ends up not being an issue at all.

(This one is so sweet. Basically Hannibal wants to jerk off but he can't because Will is just always there and he hardly gets a moment alone and he'll feel bad for telling him to go away 😭😭 but they finally get together in the end

》 Held in the Highest Regard by HigherMagic (12k)(Explicit)

What happens when a group of serial killers pick the absolute worst targets? Will is already having a pretty rough night, since Hannibal proposed to him and Will said 'No' for reasons he still hasn't quite figured out yet. It's not their fault - they couldn't have known - but sometimes people have to learn lessons the hard way, and Will could definitely use some stress relief.

(If you are familiar with the movie 'The Strangers' then you'll really like this one. I reread it like three times it was so good. Shit had me tweaking omg this is like the perfect au for them)

》 Green-Eyed Monster by CestPasDuBaudelaire (53k)(Explicit)

Will and Hannibal have settled in Cuba and, for the past year, they have been living their happily ever after in a small hidden community for retired wanted criminals. However, at the hazard of a gathering, Will is faced with an unbelievable fact, other members of the community may also fancy his monster of a husband. Then comes Will's spiraling, as he learns to come to terms with a disastrous, chaotic and slowly overwhelming possessiveness. And of course, feelings are never easy to deal with, when Hannibal is involved. A smut character study in three acts exploring Will's possessiveness.

(Top!Will my beloved. Don't let the title fool you, this was so fun to read and I love the community for wanted criminals idea. And possessive Will is always a treat ;)

》 Haunted by Anonymous (165k)(Explicit)

Still recovering from their fight with Dolarhyde, Will and Hannibal escape to New Orleans with Chiyoh's help. But Will is still struggling to accept Hannibal and his own darkness, something that Hannibal has every intention of helping him overcome...

(And finally I leave you guys with this monster of a fic. So sad that the author chose to go anon but if they somehow see this I hope they know how much I love this story. Will is struggling and Hannibal is an asshole at certain points but when is he not? Lots of references to Will's past too and some stuff about his mom that's very interesting)

I hope you guys enjoy these stories as much as I did. If you read any and want to discuss my messages and ask box are always open! ♡♡♡

#hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannigram #will graham #hannibal lecter #murder husbands #hannibal fanfiction #hannigram fanfiction #hannigram fic #hannibal fic #ao3 #fic rec

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thisisjustmefangirling · 2 months

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Merlin rewatch : 2x09 "The lady of the lake"

Freya must have been so cold wearing these rags…

Gaius, your acceptance/resignation towards people being sold for a price if they have magic freaks me out.

As if Merlin was going to let a defenseless looking girl stay in that cage… Especially someone with magic. He feels empathy for them.

Is that the first time we're seeing the Rising sun tavern ?

Oh Merlin is using so many spells in a few minutes, I'm loving it…

"Here, I thought you might be cold."

"I just saw you and… It could have been me, in that cage".

WHY is Merlin not stealing from the kitchens instead of bringing Arthur a rotten apple and a stale piece of bread ? The NERVE ?! I wouldn't have given this to anyone, even less my BOSS, a PRINCE.

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Arthur's indignation : "I am fighting fit!"

I think this is where we're getting started with the fatphobic jokes…

Arthur has scratches/scars on his chest ? Where did he get that ?

Merlin giving Arthur "Sire" because he knows he fucked up…

Oh Freya was a druid ?

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Merlin !!!! How did you not realise that that bathwater was BOILING and could COOK ARTHUR TO DEATH ?

"You need to warn them, Sire. The girl is dangerous. My informer told me she was cursed."

"How so ?"

"He didn't know. But he said even the druids were frightened of her. They cast her out of their camp."

So Freya is an outcast. Just like Merlin, in some way. Merlin is so powerful it'd be easy to be afraid of him once he's mature enough. He's not part of the druids. Neither is Freya.

Add butter to that bread and cheese and you get un jambon-beurre haha.

"Believe me, it's fit for a prince" hahaha no shit Merlin !

"He knows but I'm not sure he understands". => Merlin about Gaius knowing about Merlin's magic.

"Magic is not a curse. It can be a gift!" Oh baby in 1x01 you feared you were a monster ?

Merlin is lying to Gaius' face and his very inquisitive eyes…

Merlin stealing Arthur's food is supposed to be a joke, okay, but I'm not sure I like it now. Arthur is being deprived of a good breakfast and lunch. He'll be cranky come evening. Give him food.

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"Merlin is my servant, he has my absolute trust. If you have a problem with him, you come to me. Do you understand ?"

This line is doing things to my heart, oh la la…

The fact that Arthur doesn't question Merlin AT ALL about his strange behaviour, they just bicker about the stolen sausages and Arthur's weight and then Merlin just… leaves. And goes straight to see Freya.

"I scare most people away" Freya you deserve better…

"You can't always trust people."

"I know. That's why I left home."

Merlin :/ Babe <3

Let it be remembered that Merlin can make flowers appear, but not food.

"With you, I can just be who I am. We don't have to hide anything. I don't have to worry."

"Being different is nothing to be scared of".

AND THAT SINGLE TEAR ROLLING DOWN HIS CHEEK !

Awww Merlin behaving like a lovesick puppy <3

This is the first time Merlin even THINKS about leaving Camelot. He's known Freya for two days. He's just really desperate to be known for who he really is, and to be free…

Moths and woodworms : the "reasons" why Merlin is snooping into closets and bedside tables he should not be touching at all.

"Running an errand for Gaius" : excuse number 1 for weird shit and secret missions Merlin is doing.

Arthur not giving a fuck about Merlin possibly crossdressing for fun in his spare time : "As long as you do a decent day's work, Merlin, that's all I care about. […] What a man does in his spare time is completely up to him". And then the compliment : "colour suits you Merlin".

This is day three now.

"We can leave tonight, as soon as it gets dark, and we can be together".

Horses, blankets and food and they won't need more. A second kiss, and goodbye. Freya doesn't have the heart to tell him.

"There was a time when you thought twice about lying to me".

Yet Merlin said "Of course not!" which such an air of sincerity… Oh yeah, he's turning into a really good liar…

Mais Gaius t'es tellement une grosse balance, t'es là à lécher les pompes d'UTHER au lieu de régler le problème avec Merlin !

"You can never understand. Do you know how it feels to be a monster? To be afraid of who you are ?"

"Freya is very different from you. She's dangerous."

Oh I didn't remember Arthur saw her in her human form ! Lol he's just there blinking as she's turning into a bastet…

I can't freaking believe Arthur's guards and knights are running away while Arthur is trying to fight the bastet !

MERLIN ! You almost crushed Arthur to death !

He's petting her head ???

OH is Freya a rape survivor, forced to kill people by the mother of her rapist ? That's so fucked up…

"Please go."

"No. I'm not leaving you here".

The PARALLELS with Arthur's dying moments !

"One day, Merlin, I will repay you. I promise". Okay but do we actually see that happen in the next seasons ? I don't remember her.

What I do remember from years ago is directors saying that Colin held that level of intensity and sadness for hours in the rain for those lake scenes.

It's the first time he has to light a funeral pyre for a friend and it sadly won't be the last…

That last scene with Arthur always gets to me. Arthur might be oblivious to a lot of things but he pays attention to Merlin more than Merlin might think, I'd say.

"Something's been upsetting you, hasn't it ?"

Arthur has seen Merlin doing the weirdest things in the past four days or so : stealing his food, calling him fat, giving him stale food to eat, stealing a dress, being accused of hiding a druid… And he doesn't accuse Merlin of anything himself. He thinks "Oh, Merlin has been upset. I must find out why. Maybe it's because of me." and then he sort of apologises and when words fail him, he uses action to make Merlin smile again. Because seeing Merlin smile, as we'll learn in the next seasons ("I haven't seen you smile in the past three days") is important to Arthur. Because he cares. Another thing that gets to me is that when Merlin is sitting upset doing his chores, Arthur usually comes to sit next to him, at his eye level, or even UNDER his eye level sometimes. Yet, a Prince should never be sitting at a lower level than a servant or any lesser noble. He gives himself the look of a listener, and he's bad with words and feelings (because of his father's shitty education) but he TRIES.

Last episode was Arthur centric, with Arthur showing his most intimate thoughts and feelings to/in front of Merlin : his grief and guilt about his mother's death, his rage at the idea that his father was responsible for her death, that he was a hypocrite and a liar... This episode was Merlin centric. I wonder what next episode will be like.

This episode was really good at exploring Merlin's feelings about his magic, his identity as a warlock, his sense of loneliness at the heart of Camelot. Gaius cares about him but is still loyal to Uther, and Merlin is not sure Gaius really understands him and what it's like to be a warlock. Arthur... Merlin cares about Arthur and Arthur cares about him, but Merlin knows that he could end up in a cage just like Freya. And I think a part of him might resent Arthur for it. Or at least, at the end of the episode, he's tired of his chores... But no wonder. Your crush is killed by your soulmate, and you still have to show up at work the next day and shine his boots ?

#bbc merlin #merlin rewatch #the lady of the lake #freya #Youtube

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obsessivevoidkitten · 2 years

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The Light of His Life

Yandere Mothman x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Mothman, smut, oviposition, general yandere behavior, kidnapping, non-con) Word Count: 1.2k (This was going to be a drabble but then I got inspired and had a lot of fun writing this, the smut in it is not fully detailed, I did not feel like writing a full sex scene and not every piece is necessarily better with one. Overall I am very happy with how this turned out and I hope you all enjoy this. c:) As you lay there, head buried in your pillow and your hands grasping at the covers while an 11 inch long, hard, chitinous, insectoid dick plowed into you, for the third time this week, with the intent of leaving copious amounts of eggs deep within you, you wondered how your life had come to this. A mere two weeks ago you were a humble lighthouse keeper. You lead a simple solitary life free from the hustle and bustle of the city. You bothered no one. It was the perfect existence for one as reclusive as yourself. You had turned on the light and started to make your nightly maintenance checks. But as you were finishing up you could have sworn that you could see a large shadowy figure out the window out of the corner of your eye. It was only for a moment. You looked directly at the window and saw nothing. Probably just your imagina- HOLY FUCK! There it was, much more than a glimpse this time, a large humanoid moth-like monstrosity.. It’s hands grasped at the glass, antenna quivering as it fervently tried to get through the barrier, its hellish red eyes, glowing like the embers of hell, fixated on you. You ran, you were probably safe with the thickness of the glass separating you from such horror that was right outside, but you ran all the same. Like a child hiding from a monster you grabbed your blanket and pillow and crawled under your bed cowering. You clutched your pillow close as if that somehow offered any additional protection. You hoped if you simply ignored the monstrous abomination outside the tower that it would vanish, and you could continue life blissfully convincing yourself it had all been a hallucination or dream of some sort. But reality offered you no such comforts. You soon heard a pounding at the door at the base of the lighthouse. Mothman was starting his rut and you had lit such a clear and powerful beacon, clearly someone with such power to create so blinding a light was sure to be a perfect mate for him. But now you were playing hard to get, hiding behind a shield of thick glass and a door. He knew why, of course, you were protecting yourself from inferior courtship. Only a strong and suitable male, such as himself, could get to you. It was so obviously a test, and one he was determined to pass. The amorous moth easily broke the metal steel door down with a few strong slams and a thunderous crash. He was a bit over 7 feet tall and all bulging muscle covered in soft downy fluff. It was an easy thing for him to remove this barrier and pass, what was in his mind, the first obstacle you placed for a potential partner to prove their strength. You heard the loud clamor of the door being broken down and with it came breaking down any notion that you could pretend their was no moth beast trying to get you. You covered yourself in your blanket and curled up in a fetal position, hoping to make yourself small, still, and quiet in a vain attempt to go unnoticed. The second challenge that the eager moth was convinced you had put in place just for him was to actually find you. There were many rooms and the tower was fairly large, and he was not used to human dwellings, at least non that were not abandoned and breaking apart. His antenna twitched and quivered excitedly, picking up on your scent and following it to where it was freshest. You could hear his heavy footsteps, loud and plodding, as he lumbered up the stairs. Slowly getting louder and louder as he crept closer until finally the beast was at the door to your room. A fragile door of old wood and a thick blanket were now all that concealed you from this being straight from someone’s nightmares. He popped it open very easily and stepped into your room, you clenched your eyes closed and did not dare to even breathe. Sweat dripped from your brow and tears down your face, you felt a deep fear and were sure you would die. You could see his inhuman feet in front of you now. Mothman trilled joyously, he was filled with sheer ebullience, he finally found you and passed your test, thus proving that he is a good mate for you! The cryptid leaned down and gently pulled you from under the bed and removed the cover from you. He held you close while examining you with his antenna. Something was wrong, his little mate was sad and scared. Awe, that must just be because you never had a mate before and you were nervous! You were just so precious and innocent. Don’t worry, he would take things slowly and be super gentle with you~ He held you close to his warm body, trilling in what was meant to be a comforting manner while burying your crying face into his soft fuzzy muscular chest. You thrashed and writhed in abject terror, trying desperately to get away, but your distress only encouraged him to hug a bit tighter and nuzzle his moth-like face against yours in an effort to calm you. Worried that he might squeeze you even tighter if you continued your resistance you forced yourself to calm down a little. Mothman decided that it would be too traumatic for his little mate to take you to his nest so it would be better to just stay at yours until you got a bit more used to him. Once you had acclimated to your relationship he would whisk you away to his nest and fill you with all the eggs you could ever want. Which was, of course, 0, but he would not be convinced of that. The monster placed you gently in your bed and covered you up before getting in and spooning you, holding you close to him as possible. You did not sleep that night, but your new boyfriend was patient and decided to lay with you until exhaustion finally overtook you. Your next week was spent with him constantly at your side, constantly caring for you and doting on you. You never stopped being scared of him, but you did stop randomly crying and trying to do that silly little running away from him game you liked to play. So he decided to take you home. He gathered up your bedding, to make sure you had some comforts from your original nest, and he took you and carried you off. You cried the whole way, but he understood, it was just your first time flying. You arrived at his den pretty quickly, a large burrow made in the roots of a grand tree. Were you even on Earth anymore? Had you phased into some sort of fae or cryptid land on your way here? The forest looked like it was right out of a fairy tale. Mothman carried you in bridal style. And that was how you came to be in your current position a week after “moving in”. Face down with a large cock buried deep within you pumping you full of egg after egg. It’s a position you would just have to get used to because he was never letting you go.

#yandere teratophilia #yandere terato #yandere exophilia #male yandere x gn reader #yandere x reader #yandere mothman #mothman boyfriend #mothman

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dreaming-tonite · 9 months

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Pairing: Eldrich monster!Jason Todd x f!reader

Warning: monster fucking, non-con, major size diff, unprotected penetrative sex, biologically unrealistic everything (if the warning for monster fucking isn’t enough of a red light already), don't come at me talking about how it doesn't align with canon I don't care—

Word count: 1.8k

Jason Todd died and came back, that one bit we all know.

But what if instead of coming back the way we know it, he came back wrong, so so wrong.

Whatever it was in that green, endless pit, it did not do for him what it was supposed to do. Instead, the fluorescent seeped into the pores, the lungs of his lifeless body and found all the fear, the bitterness, and the anger that its owner felt right before his last breath.

And it reached down, and it reached down until all that venom transformed Jason Todd's body into something else entirely.

The pit brought him back but without a soul, and a creature without a soul was no man.

Anger gave it glaring fangs and nails that were pointy and curled like fangs, bitterness warped its face, and fear made it grow and grow until it was as big as the shadows that lurked in nightmares haunting the empty hallway of the quiet manor where they mourn the lost of a son.

There were no traces of the boy it once was left in the eldritch horror it had become, nor did any of its vessel's memories, only an aching void in its chest, which it did not have a word for.

The only thing it remembered, was that it must return to this faraway dot on the map called Gotham, where it could taste the heartache on its inhuman tongue just to think about despite not having a heart.

The way back to Gotham was long but it managed to get there by travelling in the shadows no one knew to look at.

There must be something that called for it, but the more it tried to think about it the more it hurt.

Until night came and the light came on.

Somehow, even though there was only very little of it left, the littlest bit of soul left inside the creature still knew to respond to the bat signal that illuminated the Gotham sky.

And it was all sort of confusing emotions mixed into one, and the creature felt a sharp pain in its pitch-black eyes the longer it stared.

So it ran, through quiet alleyways and under broken lamps where no one would pass by, without knowing where it could run to.

And it felt fear, and rage, and grief over something they could not remember despite how hard it tried.

It stopped after running for god knows how long, in front of a window that emulates a warm, yellow glow.

The creature usually avoided light, after trying several times and realised that light irritated it to no end. But something about the white curtains flowing behind the window still beckoned for it to go closer like fire calling to the moths.

Something in it erupted when you appeared in the room, the sickeningly sweet scent filling its nostrils and tugging at something deep inside.

There was a strange sense of familiarity, and despite there being nothing about you in its empty brain, it just knew that you belonged to it one way or another.

It must have you.

Like the moths, the creature would stop at nothing just to feel warmth again.

You were too afraid to scream when the large, shadowy monster lurched from the corner of your room, and everything else was a blur from there.

You were stunned, completely, and it took you many seconds of your ears ringing to register the situation you were in. The fabrics that once covered your body were torn to shreds under its monstrous claws, the dull ache it left on your skin making soundless shrieks left your throat when it dug its fingers into your supple flesh. The back of your head hurt from when it knocked you onto the floor, the saliva from its glaring teeth dripping onto your face as its hot breath fanned your face, the puffs of air coming from behind its snarling mouth and long, long tongue.

Your heart was pounding inside your ribcage, fear and shock pulsing through your veins when you realised that you could not escape. It was massive, back hunched as it perched on top of you and caged you in without even trying. With each breath it took, the shadow on your walls grew bigger.

And its face, you could not bring up the courage to look at its face.

But when you fought back your primal instinct to shut your eyes tight and look, something in you clicked.

There was nothing alike between the person who appeared in your head and the monster in front of you. But something in its eyes, behind the darkness, reminded you of someone who you tried your hardest not to think about when the nights were late and you felt weak.

No, it could not be. Every single fibre of your being told you that it was impossible, but something in your heart, something that echoed through your brain past logic and reason, told you that it was him.

Blood receded from your face at the thought, hoping you were wrong more than anything else.

"Jason...?"

And to your dread, it let out a chest-ripping whale at the name that was so familiar yet so strange on your tongue like a dagger was stabbed through its ears just from hearing it.

You wanted to cry, not from knowing your own fate, but from thinking about what your dead lover had gone through to become this.

Seeing tears run down your face did something to it and it— he, paused for a brief second as something that resembled panic rose within.

But the roaring desire to mark you, to take you surpassed the budding humanity that was starting to appear, which it strongly disliked.

You bit back at the taste of acid in your mouth when it shoved its tongue inside your cavity, almost gagging at how far it managed to reach as it greedily took in your scent. It was near explosive in its head, and the more it got, the more it wanted. Large hands groped and dragged along your now naked torso, rough and merciless as it felt you all over.

Drool was leaking from the corner of your lips as you gasped for air, lightheaded and coughing when it finally pulled away from your mouth to lick a long strip up your vulnerable, exposed neck. If it bite down, it could break you in an instant, you were sure of it, yet the possibility of death was not even the scariest thing you could think of at this point.

The heat left your face when it grabbed you by the back of your thighs, pushing both of them up with just one hand until your knees were pressing against your chest.

You could not even see through your tear-stained vision, but the hardness pressed up against your cunt was unmistakable, and you could feel the angry vein as it rocked against your hips. You gulped, dreading the wetness you felt as it pushed your folds apart with its terrifying girth, the leaking head brushing at the inside of your thighs as it growled in animalistic fever.

You finally screamed when it pushed itself inside of you, your eyes seeing white as you were stretched behind your humanly limits by its massive, bulging cock.

Your back arched involuntarily, hitting the cold floor under you as it pushed, and pushed deeper and deeper inside. It hurt, and tears gushed out when it was still going deeper even though you thought it was not possible until it was resting deep inside your belly. Your stomach must be bulging from just his cock snuggling deep inside your womb, the shape prominent against your walls as you winced and sniffled.

It let out a beastly grunt at the tightness, with nothing but the sole thought to breed and fill up the tiny body under it. A loud smack followed with each thrust it took, heavy balls slapping against your ass every time it hilted deep against your cervix. The burning in your walls became numb after a few hard strokes, your insides accumulating it slowly to your surprise and against your wishes.

You tried to shut your eyes tight so you could imagine that it was him instead, but the monster left you no room to escape with each piston jolting your eyes open to acknowledge reality.

You had prayed for him to come back many times, but this was nothing but a sick joke fate had played on you if this was how they decided to answer your wishes.

It filled you with dread when it stopped being unbearable halfway through and you felt the heat pooling up in the pit of your stomach. "No, no—," you plead, not to the creature but to yourself, "I'm gonna... I'm— please... please!"

Your face flared up in shame at the unmistakable signs of your own climax, wetness gushing out and the sloppy noise filling your ears. To think that your body even reacted to this in the slightest was worst than the reality that you were having your brains fucked out by something so ghastly.

How would he have felt? To know that he was trapped being something so disgusting you could barely look at and yet, you still cum from its cock like some broken slut?

It howled when the sweet scent of your orgasm filled its head, panting and grumbling as thick strings of white filled up your spasming walls. It kept cumming and cumming, yet it did not stop. With each thrust into your abused hole, you could feel its length pushing out the cum from your cunt and pooling onto the floor.

Still sensitive from your high, the soundless moans stuck at the back of your throat while it kept fucking your overstimulated hole. At this point, you could only lay there lifelessly as it forced its way back in again and again, your stomach so full of its release that you might just finally break.

Your vision had turned black by the time it was done, head lolled to the side while your limbs twitched. Pulling out its half-limp cock, cum gushed out from your puffed-up cunt that fluttered around nothing, still so full the second before.

The creature stared at your fucked up body as it took in the salty scent lingering in the air. It felt warm in the chest for a brief second as it watched you, feeling something tugged at what was deep within.

It did not know what it was when it felt something wet running down its void-like eyes.

Only that hollowness that followed each heave of its chest hurt beyond measure.

#~oh the feminine urge to be fucked by something big and scary~#jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #red hood x reader #red hood smut

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in1-nutshell · 23 days

Text

Established Buddy's Canon names

These are the Buddy's with established 'Canon' names with a mini description.

These will be updated with time.

TFP

Maxima

(TFP) Optimus daughter with the opposite personality

Alt mode: Monster Truck

Fun Fact: When Maxima was turned human, she grew particularly fond of orange sorbets.

Lithia

(TFP) Ratchet's daughter with the opposite personality

Alt Mode: Non-emergency Ambulance

Fun Fact: Lithia has done solo karaoke nights when she has the base to herself.

Ophelia

(TFP) Megatron's daughter with the opposite personality

Alt Mode: Monoformer (or chainsaw)

Fun Fact: Once Ophelia got together with Steve, she made sure to always have at least one day in the week reserved for date night.

Rapidfire

(TFP) Ultra Magnus daughter with the opposite personality

Alt Mode: Smaller semi truck

Fun Fact: When Rapidfire was little, she would sometimes crawl into Magnus's berth when the bombing campaigns got too loud.

Iron Bolt

(TFP) Bulkhead's daughter with the opposite personality

Alt Mode: Family van (Think G1 Ironhide for context)

Fun Fact: Iron Bolt took up rifle training after a random practice round with Perceptor that soon turned into a regular things between the two.

Star Cluster

(TFP) Starscream's daughter with the opposite personality

Alt Mode: nothing yet...

Fun Fact: To avoid the confusion between her first name and her father's, Star Cluster has her friends call her Cluster.

Steel Mauler

(TFP) Old Predacon Buddy

Alt Mode: Dragon Predacon

Fun Fact: Steel Mauler prefers to stay in his alt mode than bi ped mode most of the time, it better for naps.

Gamma

(TFP) Bumblebee twin

Alt Mode: nothing yet...

Fun Fact: Gamma has a little heated blanket gifted from June and loves touching it during recharge time.

Thunderstreaker

(TFP) Kid Autobot seeker

Alt Mode: Jet

Fun Fact: When the kids have rough days, Thunderstreaker likes to take them flying around while they vent.

Red Cross

(TFP) WW1 medic bot

Alt Mode: WW1 medic vechicle

Fun Fact: Red Cross always has an extensive array of bandages in her subspaces, from plain gauze to colorful band aids for the kids. Always keeping it in stock.

Deadloop

(TFP) WW1 energon scout Con turn Bot

Alt Mode: Red Baron plane

Fun Fact: Deadloop once asked Red Cross to slow dance with him after seeing Mr. Fowler do it with his wife. It was one of the best nights he had during the human war.

Sonar

(TFP) Soundwave's Conjux with the sonic scream

Alt Mode: nothing yet...

Fun Fact: Sonar has a playlist with soft music made by the kids that plays on rough nights.

TFA

Silver Aid

(TFA) Elita One's twin sister with the personality of Shattered glass Blackarachnia

Alt Mode: Spider

Fun Fact: Silver Aid had been planning on asking Optimus to be her Amica before the incident. She has thought about asking again once they reunited, but she has her doubts about it now.

Gamma

(TFA) Bumblebee twin

Alt Mode: Nothing yet...

Fun Fact: Gamma and Sari have teamed up against Bumblebee on multiple occasions, sometimes for revenge or just because.

Skyline

(TFA) Starscream's twin brother with Shattered Glass Starscream personality

Alt Mode: Jet

Fun Fact: Skyline has a personal vendetta against the Constructicon's. Will he tell why? No, but its defiantly personal.

Bumper

(TFA) Lugnut's younger brother

Alt Mode: nothing yet...

Fun Fact: Bumper likes feeling tall and likes to perch on Lugnut's shoulder.

Nightlight

(TFA) Batmobile Buddy

Alt Mode: Batmobile

Fun Fact: Nightlight has a fear of moths.

Blue Bay

(TFA) Megladon Buddy

Alt Mode: Robot Megalodon

Fun Fact: Sari once showed them Finding Nemo, they were singing 'Just keep Swimming' for 2 weeks straight.

MTMTE/LL

Juno

(MTMTE) Perceptor's younger sibling

Alt Mode: nothing yet...

Fun Fact: Juno is a cuddle bug in private and Rodimus loves it.

Moonstreaker

(MTMTE) Rodimus Prime's older sister

Alt Mode: Cybertronain Sport car

Fun Fact: Before the war, Moonstreaker had a pink paintjob that looked a bit like Hot Rod's. She changed it after too many bots started mistaking her for Hot Rod.

TFE

Silver Aid

(TFE) Elita One's twin sister with the personality of Shattered glass Blackarachnia

Alt Mode: Spider

Fun Fact: Silver Aid has random migraines during the day. Especially after any day with Optimus, Megatron or Elita

Echo

Bot Buddy who's like Rumble

Alt mode: Mini rover

Fun Fact: They love having karaoke nights with the family.

#bot buddy #bot buddy main guide

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