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luxaofhesperides · 4 months

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Soulmark AU + Sleeping Beauty ; requested by @candeartist422!

For the last few years, Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die.

It sounds cruel to say it that way. But the waiting is more painful, he thinks, than just mourning a lost love. It’s not like most people ever meet their soulmates anyways; his parents weren’t meant to be, but they still loved each other and had a life together. He wishes he could turn his focus away from his soulmate, but Duke is a romantic at heart and has always wanted to find the other half of his soul.

But since he was fourteen, his soulmark has dulled, fading in and out of color. What was once a vibrant blue crystal star, with eight points and a swirl of watercolor hues around it, dimmed more and more until Duke was sure he was watching his soulmate die slowly.

His soulmate didn’t die then. Whoever they are got better, his soulmark gaining color, but it never went back to the way it was. For years after, Duke would check at the beginning and end of each day, keeping track of when it faded and when it regained its color.

He thought his soulmate was sick. In and out of hospitals, fighting to stay alive.

And then it went nearly colorless.

Duke doesn’t remember much about that day. He knows he woke up, brushed his teeth, the lifted up his shirt to check his soulmark in the mirror. The blue was almost completely gone, the star on his left hipbone nearly gray with how colorless it was. He started at it for a moment, shocked, and reality slid away from him as he retreated into the safety of his mind, fully dissociating.

Bruce had found him when Duke didn’t show up for breakfast. He held him and offered quiet words of comfort that Duke couldn’t understand, but just having someone with him lessened the hurt of losing his soulmate.

Seeing the color come back the next day, faint as it was, hurt even more.

A year later, Duke still can’t break the habit of checking his soulmark twice a day. It hasn’t changed at all, still faint and dim, but carrying just enough color to show that his soulmate was still alive. At the very least, they were still breathing, but his chance of ever meeting them is basically zero. Still, he can’t help but hope, wishing that he could meet them even once before they die and leave him forever.

“Same as ever,” he murmurs to himself as he brushes his thumb against his soulmark. He’s terrified that he’s forgotten how beautiful the blue of it was when his soulmate was healthy.

Duke doesn’t let himself think on it too much anymore. Though his thoughts often turn to his soulmate during quiet moments like these, the busy nature of Gotham is usually more than enough to pull his attention back to the here and now. There’s no use in obsessing over his soulmate anyways; they’re just going to die, sooner or later, and Duke knows he’ll never get to meet them. They’ll just be another empty space in his life, right next to his parents.

“Come on, Thomas, focus,” he tells himself firmly, then gets dressed and heads down to the kitchen for breakfast.

The manor is quiet. It usually is in the mornings, with everyone from the night shift dead asleep and trying to get as much rest as they can before they have to start their day. Not that many of them stay in the manor these days; Duke and Damian are the only permanent residents at the moment, but Steph usually stays half with her mom and half in the manor during the summers when she’s home from college, and the others drop in whenever they feel like it.

Bruce lives more in the Batcave than the manor, so he doesn’t really count. It’s also why Duke is surprised to see Bruce awake and dressed like a normal person, drinking coffee in the kitchen as if this is a normal occurrence.

“Morning,” Duke offers.

“Good morning, Duke,” Bruce replies. “Sleep well?”

“Well enough. Alfred out or something?”

“He may have kicked me out of the Batcave to clean it up a bit,” Bruce answers tiredly. “Want me to make breakfast?”

Duke has heard the horror stories of Bruce’s attempts to make edible food in a kitchen. In the interest of not dealing with food poisoning, Duke shakes his head quickly and says, “Nah, it’s fine. I was kinda wanting to eat out for breakfast. Get out there as me, and not a mask, you know?”

“Mind if I join you? Alfred may forgive me for not sleeping if I willingly go outside.”

Duke laughs. “Sure man, as long as you pay.”

“I’ll drive, too.”

“What, don’t trust me behind a wheel?”

Bruce gives him a tired look, eyes dead and dull. “I have taught all my children how to drive. The day I willingly let them take the wheel when I am not actively dying is the day I’ve been replaced by a robot clone of myself who doesn’t know better yet.”

“That is… very specific. Is that a thing you usually worry about?”

“I’m Batman. I have to worry about everything.”

Yeah, that tracks. Duke wouldn’t be surprised if he has at least five contingency plans for that scenario, should it ever happen. “Well,” he says, “Right now, all you need to worry about is having your wallet and driving us down to The Foodie Nook. I’ve been craving their breakfast plates for ages.”

Bruce doesn’t object to his choice of restaurant and follows Duke down to the garage, grabbing a random set of keys and pointing it out to the many cars he owns. One near the front blinks its lights as it unlocks and Duke cheerfully tosses himself into the passenger seat as Bruce opens the garage door.

The drive into Gotham is smooth. They don’t hit traffic until they reach the bridge that leads into the city proper, taking them away from the quiet of Bristol. The morning is busy, but not enough that Duke worries about being out as the Signal to help keep the peace. It’s a normal type of busy, one borne from people going about their lives, feeling safe enough to go out.

The Foodie Nook is entirely local and very popular, so the parking lot is nearly full. But they expanded their space last year, which means he and Bruce don’t have to sit outside while they wait to grab a table. Bruce keeps conversation light and casual, well aware of the many listening ears around them, and it’s nice, feeling normal for once.

Well, as normal as life can be with Bruce Wayne™. The server who comes to lead them to a table realizes who she’s talking to after she gets a proper look at them while holding open the door and promptly stutters over her words.

“No need for any special treatment,” Bruce laughs lightly, “We’re just here for breakfast. Nothing special.”

“Of course,” she replies, cheeks red. “Um, right this way! We’ve got a table by the windows for you. Just two, yeah?”

“Yup! Just two. Thought this was a good day to spend some time with Duke. He’s a great kid, you know, I’m glad I was given the opportunity to foster him.”

The sunny, cheerful Bruce Wayne persona is so different from the usual Bruce he works with that it feels like he’s standing next to a stranger. But his words are sincere and warm his heart, filling up the gaps that his soulmate has left.

“Here you are!” their server announces, showing them to their table. “I’ll be right back with some menus.” She’s gone in a rush, and other customers glance over before quickly averting their gaze.

It’s one of the unspoken rules of Gotham: give the Waynes their privacy while they’re out in public. Questions and conversation are for public events only, but if they see a Wayne out and about during a normal day, everyone leaves them be unless spoken to first. Duke used to follow those rules as well when he was just another Gothamite. It’s strange being on the other side of that now that he’s in with the Waynes.

Duke barely has to look through the menu when it’s handed to him. The breakfast plates are his favorites and he gets one every single time he comes to The Foodie Nook; stacked full with breakfast foods from around the world. As a kid, he loved the Mexico Plate, but these days he’s craving either the Brazilian Plate or the Vietnamese Plate.

He can’t decide on which one and thinks about tossing a coin to decide, but seeing how that’s Two Face’s whole thing, he decides to hold off and settle the matter with eenie-meenie-minnie-mo.

He gets the Vietnamese Plate.

Bruce, on the other hand, reads through the entire menu like it’s a novel, then leans over and says rather loudly, “Duke, what’s a tort-illa.”

The pain he feels hearing that is only worsened by the amusement in Bruce’s eyes. He’s doing it on purpose, playing up the Brucie act for the public so he can psychologically torment Duke. A few nearby customers choke back laughter, turning away to hide their smiles.

Duke shakes his head and says, “Don’t worry about it. It’s just food. Don’t ask any more questions, I just want a peaceful breakfast.”

“Well then,” Bruce replies, “I suppose I know what to order now.”

As if she was summoned, their server reappears before them, cheeks still looking a little flushed. “Hi! Ready to order?”

She writes down their orders quickly, valiantly keeping a straight face at Bruce’s mispronunciation of tortilla, then heads off to deliver their orders to the kitchen.

Rather than draw out a conversation with Brucie Wayne, Duke settles for playing a few idle games on his phone; his current favorite is one quiet cat cafe game where he directs cats into fulfilling cafe orders.

Bruce, despite being out in his civilian identity, is working. He’s on his Batman phone, which looks the same as his other cell phones except this one has a bat symbol sticker just barely hiding a Superman sticker on the phone case. His brow is slightly furrowed as he reads whatever file he’s accessing from the Batcomputer. It’s a little worrying but it could be anything. Bruce makes the same expression when he reads one of Tim’s snarky comments getting quoted in the news.

But that’s not Duke’s problem! He’s here to enjoy his breakfast and it will take the end of the world itself to remove him from his seat before he’s done eating.

The game takes most of his attention until their food comes out, and by then Bruce has tucked away the smallest of his Batman mannerisms. They enjoy a normal, peaceful breakfast. Bruce ends it by asking their server if she has any debt that’s weighing her down, then giving her a tip that’s at least five thousand dollars above that.

She does cry and Bruce hugs her. It’s very sweet.

As soon as they get back into the car, his easy going smile drops and Duke knows some superhero nonsense is about to take over his day.

“Duke,” Bruce starts, seriously, “I received a message from Zatanna.”

“Don’t drag this out,” Duke says, “Just give it to me straight. What terrible thing is about to happen to us?”

“It’s nothing too big. They just recently defeated a magical being who had been tearing apart secret government facilities in Illinois. He had both magic and a high tech weapon, which they confiscated and are delivering to me. The government agency he was fighting was suspiciously interested in the weapon, and based on their behaviors and newly revealed work, Zatanna made the decision to turn the weapon over to us so it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”

Bruce smoothly merges into traffic as he speaks, getting them onto the road back to the manor. There’s a look in his eyes that means he’s keeping a lot unsaid, and Duke knows without a doubt that whatever this government agency was doing is bad if Zatanna needs Batman to act as extra security.

He’s not sure about her decision to trust the weapon to be safe in Gotham, either. Sure, Batman will keep it as safe as he can, but with their luck, it’ll end up in the hands of a Rogue and lead to a lot of death and destruction.

As soon as they cross the bridge and return to Bristol, Bruce steps on the gas and the car tears down the road. Without any other cars to worry about (or traffic laws), it takes barely two minutes to reach the manor, when the gates open for them and let them into the garage.

Alfred waits for them by the door, looking them over with a critical eye. “I see you have managed to go outside, Master Bruce. What’s the special occasion?”

“Just breakfast,” Bruce answers. “I’m heading back down to the Batcave. Zatanna will be here soon to deliver a weapon.” He’s gone before Alfred can say anything more, hurrying down the hall and turning the corner, disappearing from sight as he heads towards his office.

“I see we have yet to break that bad habit of his. Did you enjoy your morning out, Master Duke?”

“Sure did, Alfred. I’m, uh, also going down to the Batcave. He’s definitely not telling me a lot about what’s going on, so I’m just going to read about it over his shoulder. I’ll be back up for lunch, though!”

“And perhaps you’ll be able to drag Master Bruce away from that cave of his,” Alfred comments wryly as he walks with Duke towards the office. He gives Duke a nod, then splits away from him, returning to the kitchen where Duke can hear Damian speaking to someone, probably Tim by the annoyed tone of his voice, and mentally wishes Alfred luck in handling them.

Duke sets the correct time on the clock in Bruce’s office and heads down to the Batcave, taking the steps two at a time.

Bruce is already at the Batcomputer, shoulders tensed, when he arrives.

“More bad news?” he asks as he makes his way over.

Bruce doesn’t bother looking away from the screen as he says, “More details about the fight. It seems the magical being called himself a ghost and was going on a rampage due to a betrayal. He says they nearly killed his son.”

“Oh, yikes.”

“And two of the scientists working with the government agency said that he stole their son and is keeping them from saving him.”

“Yikes,” Duke says with more feeling.

He doesn’t get to hear anymore details about JLD’s fight with this ghost when he catches a flicker in the corner of his eye. Duke turns and stares at the empty space in the Batcave near the medbay and watches as colorful magic gathers and swirls in dizzing circles. The portal opens a moment later and Zatanna steps out, looking exhausted and lightly singed.

“Batman,” she greets, holding a white gun that looks like it belongs in an early sci-fi movie from the 60s. “The GIW is trying to arrest us. Constantine keeps burning their badges and documents so it shouldn’t be a problem, but they are determined to get this back. I wouldn’t be surprised if they came after you next. They’ve got some way of tracking things, but I didn’t have time to get any details before I had to leave.”

Bruce takes the gun from her hands carefully, looking it over with a sharp gaze. “Why would a ghost want to use a gun?”

“I don’t know. He had a variety of powers, too.”

“What does this do?”

“Shoots ice. He never let it go and nearly burned me alive for taking it before we subdued him.”

“We’ll keep it locked up,” Bruce promises.

Zatanna sighs. It looks as though a physical weight fell off her shoulders. “Thanks. I’m going to head back to stop Constantine from getting into a fistfight with the GIW agents.”

She opens another portal with a waved hand and a muttered spell. Bruce is already walking away to set the gun down on a work station, so Duke is the one to wave Zatanna goodbye.

By the time he reaches Bruce’s side, the gun is already dismantled, all pieces neatly set aside. Sticky notes denote which pieces go together and in what order. It looks the same as most guns, save for the aesthetic, but the heart of it is a glowing blue orb, large enough to cover the entirety of Bruce’s palm, and it brings a chill to the air.

Duke stares at it and feels his soulmark burn ice cold.

“Duke?”

It’s in his hands. He doesn’t remember reaching out to take it, but it’s in his hands. He can’t take his eyes off of it, cradling it gently and bringing it closer to his chest.

It’s the same blue his soulmark once was. Before his soulmate began to fade, before every day became a waiting game to see how long his soulmate will last before they die.

This has something to do with his soulmate. He’s sure of it.

He won’t let anyone take it from him.

“Duke. Give that to me.”

He doesn’t feel like he’s in his body. He’s detached, floating somewhere outside his body, puppeteering his limbs, making them move without feeling the motion. Shadows condense around his feet and Bruce takes a step back, wary.

“Duke,” he says again, but Duke can’t find any words, can’t draw on his voice, can’t even look away from the bright, bright blue of the orb. It pulses lightly in his hand like a heartbeat.

Bruce reaches a hand out.

He’s pulled back by shadows before he can get close, and Duke holds the orb against his chest, right against his heart, and feels the cold seep into him.

“Duke. I need you to look at me.” This time, Bruce’s voice has Batman’s growl in it, a heavy command that he can’t help but instinctively follow. He looks up and meets Bruce’s eyes, but he can’t focus. All his awareness is in his hands and the heartbeat of the glowing orb.

“I have to protect this,” Duke manages to whisper. “I… I think it’s alive.”

“Okay. Let’s get you to the medbay so you can sit down. We’ll figure this out, Duke.”

Bruce slowly, carefully, sets his hand on Duke’s shoulder. He keeps his attention away from the orb, so Duke allows it and lets Bruce guide him to the medbay and onto one of the medical cots. Bruce leaves him after a minute of quiet fussing, muttering about calling Zatanna.

Whatever. None of that matters when the heartbeat of the orb grows stronger, steadier, and Duke feels it match the beat of his own heart.

Time slips away from him. Distantly, he hears people move around the cave, speaking in low tones. A hand presses against his shoulder, warm, then moves away.

The orb in his hand moves.

Duke blinks slowly, then claws his way back to awareness, pushing past the haze that’s fallen over his mind. The orb turns over in his hand, then cracks right down the middle. The glow grows stronger, washing the medbay in blue light and a symbol appears on the orb.

It’s his soulmark.

Later, he won’t be able to say why he did it. There were no thoughts, no reasonings, no explanations. Duke simply moved on instinct and lifted the orb up to his face and pressed a soft kiss against it.

One moment, the orb was still.

The next, it had burst in a flash of light that blinded everyone in the Batcave, and then a thin, injured teenager had fallen into Duke’s lap.

Hands immediately grab him, pulling him away from Duke. The teenager puts up no fight, eyes barely open, but he reaches for Duke weakly. On his wrist is the bright blue snowflake, the color strong and vivid.

“That’s me soulmate,” Duke whispers as he watches Bruce and Tim set the boy down on another medical cot.

“What?” Tim says, turning to face Duke, concern clear on his face.

“That’s my soulmate,” he repeats, louder. Then, panicked, he pulls up his shirt enough to see his own soulmark; the color is still dull, weak, barely there, but it’s more blue that it has been in a while. He doesn’t need to say anything. Tim sees the dullness of his soulmark, looks at the boy, and puts the pieces together on his own.

“I’ll call Doc Thompkins,” he says, already moving to fix everything. Bruce remains where he is, making sure the boy is tucked in and breathing steadily before he returns to Duke.

“Are you alright?”

Duke swallows roughly, unable to tear his eyes away from the boy. He’s pale and thin, as if he’d been starved, and there’s frost beginning to spread on the bedsheet from his fingers. “He’s my soulmate,” Duke manages to say. “He’s been dying for two years.”

Bruce’s eyes a hard, a determined light in them. “We’ll save him,” he promises.

If anyone can, it’s Batman.

If anyone can, it’s them, Batman and the Signal, and their entire network of family and friends.

Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die all this time. Now, he’s going to save him.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompt fill #my writing #i dont really know much abt jld so they are not really in here #just duke trying to live his life and have a nice day with bruce #when his soul mate gets thrown at him in the form of an ORB #(ghost core but they dont know that yet)#dannys gonna have to answer so many questions once hes awake bc not many know abt realms beings #its gonna be rough for him bc he's been asleep for 2 years in his core bc he was never safe enough to recover #until duke gave him a boost (plus the power of soulmates really helped him) and he woke up #in a cave with his soulmate and a whole crew of superheroes #what a thing to open ur eyes to. rip danny lol #thanks for the prompt!

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bleedingichorhearts · 2 months

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𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕾𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖙:

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: So uh… how we doing today?

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams,@egrets-not-regrets.

𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗:

Viață mică - Little Life (Romanian)

Viață - Life (Romanian)

𝕬𝖈𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖊𝖉𝖌𝖊: If you are under the age of 18. Shoo! Go away! Skedaddle! Why you reading this in the first place? Be 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 for/of yourself.

TW // SMUT/NSFW, Language, Filth, Google Translation.

Returning home, I threw my keys onto the counter and started to take off my coat and placed it over the leather couch. Swiping up some mail from the same counter.

I sighed and started to flip through it. Stopping for just a second to take off my shoes, using the counter as support. I wondered where Amadeus was as he usually greeted me at the door like usual. His mock helmet nuzzling against the top of my head, brightening up my day just a little bit brighter when he would greet me so sweetly.

Placing the mail off to the side. I started to take off my shirt next. Figuring if I was alone I could partly streak my own home for a moment and gather my clothing back when I was done taking my planned shower.

Throwing my shirt off to the side, near the leather couch. I made quick work of my pants, unbuttoning them and throwing my pants off to the side on the couch too when I wiggled them off.

Taking the mail from the counter again. I slowly made my way down the hallway and passed a spare living room that I had to do a double take at. My heart jumping in my chest at the split second dark flash I saw until I realized it was just Amadeus.

A very, very needy looking Amadeus.

My god, wasn’t he a sight to see.

The curtains were closed blocking most of the sunlight, but there was this streak of light coming through, creating a god-like glow on his pale naked skin. His most prominent scar going across his chest lining up with the angled sun streak. His lean body leaning back on the love sofa. He huffed, his chest rising up in down quickly. His c*ck twitching against his body, producing some prec*m off the tip. Was he…?

Maybe that shower can wait.

Amadeus tried taking multiple cold showers, but it simply wasn’t enough for his heated skin. He doesn't know really why he was so hot, so needy. It wasn’t like him to be so sexually high. He tried taking care of his sudden erection, c*ming once, twice, then thrice by his hand, but it pained him more than anything, like he was endlessly edging himself. It just wasn’t enough for him. He needed something more.

His eyes snapped open when the scent of his viață mică reached his nose. His mouth falling open to capture more of her scent while he leaned forward on the sofa. His c*ck pulsing at the sight of his viață mică half naked at his waist.

He watched with half lidded eyes as she placed her hands on his thighs, slowly running her fingers up and down them as she cooed at him. Flushing her chest up against his c*ck. The skin against skin contact making his body ignite even more. A strangled groan rumbling through his chest while he clutched the sides of the sofa, creating an indent in them with his nails.

Throne, this is what he needed. He needed his viață mică to take care of him and his aching c*ck.

He felt like he was in paradise. The need was still strong, but it was pleasurable and it didn’t cause him much discomfort as it did with his hands.

He felt himself twitch, her hands taking the bottom of his length and slowly tracing his prec*m all the way up to his tip before her warm mouth opened up, cooing up at him before wrapping around him.

He nearly thrusted up into her mouth. Another groan falling from his lips, crushing the arm of the soft he gripped onto, by the Emperor.

Her tongue swirled around his tip. Then bobbed her head up and down. A sinful squelch sounding out. Her hands sliding up and down his V line and thighs. Throne, it was all too much, but it wasn’t enough at the same time. He needed more. He needed to be inside his viață mică.

Bringing his hand forward, he gently took her by the throat after she popped off his c*ck for a breath. Surprising his little bonded as she jumped in his hold while he came forward and pressed his lips against her swollen lips. Tasting his needy self on her tongue.

Slowly, he urged his little bonded down to the animal skinned rug beneath them. His lips slowly working his way down her body. Listening to how her breath hitched and her heart beat pick up its pace. His fangs itching to mark her up, to draw blood from that soft flesh of hers. To taste the sweetness of her blood and c*nt.

“Ești prea dulce pentru mine, viață mică(You are too sweet for me, little life.)” He groaned, kissing the inside of her thigh. Suckling a little there while he watched her squirm beneath his touches; his affections. “Dându-te mie.(Giving yourself to me.)”

“I-I hope that means you're enjoying yourself.” She stammered beneath him as he hummed, moving her panties to the side and wrapped his arms around her thighs. His hands softly pressing against her soft stomach, keeping her in place while his tongue slithered out of his mouth, pulling his little viaţă close, a squeak leaving her shuddering body.

Twisting and thrusting his tongue. He listened to the many pretty little noises his little viață made. Her thighs coming in and closing around his head as he ignored how his c*ck was aching for release. He needed to feast, to taste the sweetness before he would stuff his c*ck right inside of her tight c*nt.

He kept the top of her body still on the ground as she cried out. The rest of legs locking around his head as he let her ride out her climax on face. Lapping up anything her delicious, throbbing core would give him.

“Throne, Aș putea să te mănânc toată ziua.(I could eat you all day.)” He mumbled, dragging his lips back up his viață mică body. His hands dragging up the sides of her body and arms. Tugging off her bra while he was at it.

“I hope… you are paying for that.” She huffed, his lips meeting hers once more. His c*ck twitching underneath him while he dragged his hands up her arms, pinning them up above her head.

“Îți dau tot ce vrei, mica mea viață.(I give you everything you want, my little life.)” He spoke, nuzzling his little bonded head before dragging his lips down her face. “Ți-aș da orice de-al meu(I would give you anything of mine.)”

“Ți-aș da viața mea( I would give you my life.)” He admitted, vowed. Kissing her cheek bone. “Ți-aș da sângele meu.(I would give you my blood.)” He kissed her shoulder. “Fiii și fiicele noastre.(Our sons and daughters.)” He purred, running his fangs over her throat, making her shiver beneath him. “Viitorul nostru.(Our future.)”

She gasped beneath him. The simple noise pleasing his ears. His fangs drawing blood from her while he inched himself closer and closer to her tight core. A moan rumbling out of his chest.

He rolled his hips slowly; deeply. The unholy squelch of their hips coming together and their gasps and huffs staining each other’s heated skin. Bodies desperately trying to get closer to one another with each thrust, with each beat of their heart’s.

Truly, his little viaţă was too sweet to him.

Amadeus groaned, nearing his own climax after making his mica viata c*m multiple times on his c*ck before he did. The moon resting between the curtains now.

His lips rose off her skin to stop drinking from his little weakened viaţă, but her hand slid from his own, dragging up his arm and wrapping up and around his head. Threading her fingers through his hair before gripping at it, urging him to drink more.

A deep moan came out of his lips. His c*ck pulsing inside of her as he couldn’t help, but drink some more of her blood. Her whimpering command clear to him.

He didn’t stop when he climaxed himself, his hips slowly grinding back into his little bonded. His head lifting up from her shoulder to lap at the deep mark he created, making sure there wasn’t an ounce of wasted blood on her precious skin.

Throne, he wasn’t finished with his viață mică yet. He still has a lot more to give to his mica viata. He could feel it.

Though, he doesn’t really know what got into him, wanting to breed his mica viata, but he wasn’t really complaining if it had her yearning for him while he drank her sweet blood from her and f*cked her.

Touching his own head against her own. He kept moving his hips into her coated walls. Licking her blood off of his lips as he enjoyed the little sounds she gave him.

#warhammer 40k #space marine husbandry sentience #fanfiction #oneshot #x reader #reader insert #blood angel #oc: amadeus #mating press march #tw: yandere #tw: smut #non-canon? but like not #it’s resting between #I hope the translation was readable…#rip animal rug

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serious-goose · 1 year

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Considering the dearly beloved Stedebot (stedebonnet967) has been officially terminated by staff 🪦 😔 I thought it was time for a bit of a reveal. Twas I, pandasuplex, who created one of the Edbots (@edwardteach816). With the help of irl bestie @oysternuggets.

I also wanted to thank the OG creator @forest-sprites for the laughs. And I'm sorry if things got a bit overwhelming after a while. You had a great idea and we all sorta ran with it. 💜 To my fellow Edbot, you're a legend by the way @edward769 asdfghjkl

It made my Christmas Eve posting with you all. I sincerely apologize if anyone thought I was an actual bot posting spam on the fandom tag. It was truly just jokes and japes. The account is still active and staff hasn't terminated him (yet).🤞🏻

xoxo

-Katie

#ofmd #our flag means death #gentlebeard #stedebonnet967 #edwardteach816 #RIP #🙏🏼 🪦 😢#gonna miss you stedebot may you thirst post in heaven mate

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natashasbitxh · 3 days

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When will my wife return from the war

#There's nothing I love more than silly reactions #Like what do you mean it's been 7 MONTHS #Rip to we watched you were silly you were cute #smosh #smoshblr #smosh pit #ian hecox #tommy bowe #shayne topp #The spy mate vid is genuinely one of my favourite smosh vids #I've rewatched it so many times

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finch-the-foolish · 17 days

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So uh.. I did a thing. Shoutout to @gummys-whump-acc for the prompt inspo. In essence, whumper tormented and killed a local fae creature, an action which had.. repercussions.

TW for noncon body modification (magic based), reference to blood and death

Whumper stumbled back a step, staring up at the figure standing before them. They were ethereal, unnatural, features which seemed ever so slightly wrong painted with a sharp, furious rage. Their little experiments seemed to have returned to bite them. How.. unfortunate.

They took another step away, breaths unsteady, gaze flitting about like some caged, helpless animal searching for escape. It was a sense of weakness that they had long inflicted, long found glee in. And yet, here, there was only fear remaining in their chest, every breath too tight, stammered attempts at speech tripping over themselves like their uncertain steps.

It merely smiled in response, a thing of sharp teeth, eyes which seemed nearly hypnotising, a clawed hand swiping out. Whumper gasped, eyes wide with panic as they were ripped up from the floorboards, that wretched hand now entangled in their shirt's collar. They clawed at it, far more weakly than they'd like, gaze fixated on the faerie before them.

"Look at you," it hissed, its other hand grabbing at their hair, pulling their head up. "Powerless. Pathetic. You're the little thing who killed my child? The little bastard that stole them from me?"

Whumper tensed, shaking their head. "I- n- no- I don't- I didn't-"

It narrowed its eyes, swirling blue-green holding a malice that had so often greeted Whumper in the mirror. "You're a coward. A lying, hateful little bastard." Its hand shifted, grabbing onto their throat, a frantic, pained noise stuttering out in response. "How about we teach you a lesson, on who to mess with. On who to hurt."

They stared at it, nearly frozen at the words, one hand still trying desperately to pull their claws away. "P.. please- I- I won't- I won't hurt anyone- just let me go-"

The fae paused for a moment, expression cold. "Your promises are as worthless as your life, fool. It is a mercy that you shall keep either."

Its eyes seemed to glow, then, magic lighting up around them, painting Whumper's little home in blues and greens; swirling, glowing energy that seeped into their veins, into their mind, their soul, agony lighting up every inch of their frame.

A hand scrabbled at the fae's wrist, pained gasps all they could manage as their back lit up, bone pushing through skin, fear decorating a face which had so long been smug, been gleeful, in its tormenting. It felt like eternity, it felt like a moment, like they were infinity and nothing at all against the grand spectre of the magic which now carried through their veins.

And then, abruptly, they were released, falling to the floor, little more than a mangled creature, distinctly wrong. Crimson decorated the floorboards and their back in equal measure k, ragged wings with too little material stretched unmoving over their form.

The fae stared down at them, a twisted smile barely visible in their blurry gaze. "Good luck, little one. Perhaps you will learn something more than harm, this way."

And with that, it was gone. With that, they were alone, with the consequences of their sins, the pain which they had wreaked returning to spite them.

#lqmie says things #uh. rip mate.#bro got rekt #this is Not Edited btw it is like. past midnight idk what possessed me there #it's the ghost of my fae jimmy aus that I'm never gonna be sane about #anyway good luck Whumper enjoy your fucked up magic and the fact that you've become something you wanted to destroy o7 #whump #whumper #whumper turned whumpee #whump community #whump scenario #whump writing #whumpblr #whumpee #writing

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hannibal-is-my-comfort-show · 8 months

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I see your 'Will wears his hair swept back after the bone saw incident to show off his scar'

And raise you an AU where he refuses to wear anything but crop tops after mizumono.

#check and mate #what a better world we'd live in if that happened #Rip #💔💔💔#someone needs to write a fix on this pls #i beg #hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannibal nbc #hannibal au #netflix #hannibal netflix #will graham #hannibal lecter #hannigram #murder husbands #hannibal crack #renew hannibal #revive hannibal

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dark-elf-writes · 14 days

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Fawn spots Harry 🤝 Spells and Seas Harry 🤝 Son of Hermes Harry writing all his notes/letters home in Greek

#the elf talks #harry potter #pjo #astoria fates kiss #fawn spots au #spells and seas au #I mean two of them are Ancient Greek but still #Umbridge: I’m going to read his letters home to see what he’s really plotti— what the fuck does that say #rip any of his year mates that miss a class and need the notes

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h-doodles · 10 months

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Connection // Consumption // Possession is my way of Love & you are mine as i am yours, various - a web weave for it's quicker & easier (to eat your young) by @pinkcannibal 💖

#IM SO INSANE ABT THIS FIC IM SCREAMING I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU #anyways hehe #web weaving #marilyn thornhill #marilyn thornhill x reader #christina ricci #lee makes stuff #simp.txt #clown.txt #to me i am hers the same way she is mine and we are two halves ripped apart and 2 puzzle pieces who's been lost in the dark #and we are connected in the same way the greek gods have created soul mates and connected in the same way the fates have woven their thread #and we are one in the same one in the same one in the SAME!!!!!!!!#bound by blood and by love and by our sheer force will and i want nothing more but to sink my teeth in to her neck just as she does mine #and claw my way into her chest and fall asleep next to her heart raw and bruised and bloodied #i am. being SO normal abt it.#eat your young

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alili-cia · 4 months

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Less half-ass sketches (Der Tod brainrot edition)

#elisabeth das musical #elisabeth #der tod #my art #not biased for mate’s der tod I just found time to color it for once #possible hot take I like both uwe’s and mate’s portrayal equally #rip idk how to draw mark seibert’s der Tod yet

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kindheartedgummybears · 5 months

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you wanna know what??

I am

TIRED

of overmasculinized werewolves!!!!

I WANNA SEE A

WEREWOLF

WALKING AROUND IN A CVNTY LITTLE OUTFIT!!! WALKING THE STREETS!!!! DISEMBOWELING CREATURES!!!!

I WANNA SEE WEREWOLVES COVERED IN BLOOD AND GORE WHILE WEARING A SHORT SKIRT AND CROPTOP WITH HELLO KITTY ON IT!!!!

I WANNA SEE A WEREWOLF WALKING AROUND IN COTTAGE AND FAIRY AND PRINCESS CORE OUTFITS!!!!!! WITH A DEAD MANGLED RABBIT IN ITS MOUTH!!!!

AND MAKE THE WEREWOLF

D I S G U S T I N G ! ! !

#i am TIRED of seeing all these manly man werewolves that are all copy and paste white boys #I am TIRED of seeing all these woman werewolves being butch and masculine(also mostly white) or submissive!!!#I WANNA SEE SOME PLUS-SIZE WEREWOLVES I WANNA SEE SOME BLACK ASIAN LATINO MIDDLE EASTERN NON WHITE WEREWOLVES!!!!! THAT ARNT F3TIZIED!!!!!#I WANNA SEE A G I R L WEREWOLF THATS INTO “G I R L Y” THINGS!!!!! LET THE WEREWOLF BE A SLVT!!!!!#LET THE WEREWOLF BE IN THE TRADITIONAL CLOTHING OF ITS CULTURE!!!!#AND RIP AND TEAR AND MAUL AND CRY IN THE MORNING AFTER DOING ALL OF IT!!!! RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#no but fr can we werewolf fans like. actually sit down and reflect on the inherent misogyny of werewolves??? ESPECIALLY IN MEDIA #like. almost EVERY. SINGLE. WEREWOLF. in movies and shows and stuff are always a buff white man with anger and trust issues #and on the rare occasion that there *is* a woman werewolf shes always either over masculine or “weaker” than the “stronger alpha male” were #olf and only seen as a mate. AND shes always “calmer” and “maternal” and “calms the alpha male down🥺🥺”.AND she never has an actually good #werewolf form its always either wolf tail and ears or full wolf. or if it *is* actually a decent werewolf her transformation is offscreen.#like whyyyyyyyyyyyyy are people so scared to make women go ape shit?????? werewolves are NOT pretty creatures!!!! STOP MAKING THEM PRETTY!!#(lmao jk we know why they're so scared hashtag male gaze)#like yes. werewolves ARE pretty but not in the “dog show 30k$ poodle” kind of way i see some people making them(not that that's bad tho)#AND ALSO LIKE. ARE WE JUST GOING TO PRETEND WEREWOLVES LITERALLY WEREN'T MADE FOR WOMEN AND MINORITIES???#like. once a month someone turns into a raging bloodthirsty unstoppable beast driven by the moon and instincts with an insatiable hunger an #need to hide away from people due to them wanting to kill you or fearing you simply because you're a werewolf. they don't know you. they ju #t see you as a creature that might hurt them. constantly being hunted down to be killed simply for existing.#WHAT PART OF THAT SCREAMS: “ah yes. White man.”#IK theres going be people(men and pick mes) that see this post and think “this bitch is overreacting” and tbh idc.the girls who get it get #the girls who dont dont.#anyways shout out to Ginger Snaps trick or treat and every other piece of media or fan piece with disgusting non-f3tiszied woman/poc werewo #i love yall #*smooch smooch*#Werewolves #Werewolf #Lycanthrope #Lycanthropy #Werewolf AU #Yeah. Im tagging that too. I see yall.

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bleedingichorhearts · 2 months

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I need to be rutted into submission by an unbonded wild astartes out back of a Denny's

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: Denny’s? Okay, guess both of ya’ll got horny I mean, hungry. Yes.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets.

TW // SMUT/NSFW, Filth, Language, Dubcon?

He watches as this female human eats at the food placed in front of her through the window. Her hands picking up the metal utensil to the side of her to eat her nightly meal.

A meal that he could have provided. A meal that he could have hunted down and cooked himself instead of that younger, inferior male.

He observes how the younger male comes back to give her a little piece of paper. Her tongue swiping across her teeth before she licked her lips. A charming smile forming on her face as the younger male manages to make her laugh. His gauntlet twitching at such a bold display in front of him.

It wasn’t even a second in before the male sat himself in her booth. The two of them conversing to one another. The male occasionally stealing food for her plate.

Doesn’t that boy know that she needed that food to store up and replenish her energy after mating? That he gave her that food and not the other way around?

Oh, this male was a fool. He was in no shape or form to take care of this little female if he needed to take her food. Any male should know not to take a females food without asking or never at all. Even he knows this basic ritual. He’s been tracking her down after all.

She was in her prime week. Her fertile scent catching his senses, driving his mind crazy each time he tried to resist it. It was like something he needed to have. That he needed to breed.

His hearts race when the two suddenly get up from the booth together and make their way to the back of the restaurant. The male getting a little touchy with the little female. His hand sliding between the pieces of her clothing as they went out the back exit door.

Suddenly he grew aggravated at this little female for accepting such an untalented, useless human. He didn’t even let her finish all of her food! Pathetic! She didn’t accept him, it was a lie! A fling!

Quickly pushing forward towards the back of the restaurant. He could hear the sloppy kissing this male gave the little female. Their hands eager to rid of their clothing and he can’t have that.

This little female was his to mark. This little female was his to f*ck. What makes this useless male think he could commit such acts against his little female?

Entering the back alleyway, his form casted a shadow into it. The moonlight shining against the back of his armor. The sounds of a sloppy make-out and light groans greeting his ears. His gauntlet twitching.

Getting closer. He suddenly snarled, scaring the feeble male off his little female. A scream coming out of him as his heart beated rapidly in his chest. His hands quickly fumbling to make himself more presentable.

“I-Is he yours?” The pathetic male asked, looking between him and his little female. Yes, and she is mine.

“No, he is not.” His female responded, glaring up at him. His c*ck twitching beneath his cod-piece. Is that a challenge?

“Then—”

Oh, how he wished to slam this guy against the wall until he was a pile of mush stained on the brick. He was lucky he couldn’t kill him…yet.

He growled lowly at the male as he attempted to reach for his little female, irritating him greatly.

“Yep, yep, I’m leaving.” The male said, putting up his hands in surrender. Backing up and making his way out of the alleyway.

“Really?!“ His little female scoffed up at him, wiping that weak male saliva off her neck. “I don’t know you!”

“And I don’t want to know you!” She rejected, a low growl leaving his throat. His c*ck pressing against his armor. His hearts clenching in his chest.

She can’t reject him! She was his as he was hers! Can’t she feel how he feels? Can’t she feel that? Sense that? Her c*nt called to him for a reason, she needed to be bred!

He turns to look down at his little female who walked away a few paces in front of him. Perhaps, he needed to show her? Show her that’s what she called out to him for?

He shoots forward and grabs his little female by the throat. A choked yelp leaving her as he places her down flat on the hood of the black SUV that was parked just behind the dumpsters. His leg pushing apart her thighs as her fruitful scent came to him much stronger.

He watches as his little female struggles beneath his gauntlet. Clawing up at his armor, glaring up at him with hatred in her eyes. His own saliva pooling in his mouth.

She curses and spits at him as it lands on his cheek and he couldn’t help but laugh lowly at her. His tongue coated in his saliva coming out to lick at it. Watching how her eyes widened in surprise.

He comes forward as soon as she was about the scream. His tongue shoving down her sweet throat, silencing her. His hips coming forth and grinding between her legs.

He can feel her falter for just a moment. A near victory for him, but her hands pressed up against his armored torso. Complaining groans vibrating through her throat as he didn’t leave her wet cavern untouched.

Ripping off her pants, she gasped underneath him. Giving him more room to shove his tongue down her throat, make her choke on it before he reeled back. His gauntlet fumbling for his cod-piece.

“Y-You son of a b*tch.” She coughed, her chest heaving as she made haste for his gauntlet on her throat again. Still un-submissive to him.

Freeing his c*ck, he pulled this string out of her hole and threw the thing to the side, her scent coming to him more strongly than before, a groan leaving his lips. Perhaps he should have done this the moment he saw her?

Taking a hold of his c*ck, he teased her bloody folds with the tip of his d*ck, his pre-c*m mixing with her blood, coating the lips.

His little female, to focused on being angry at him and cursing him out to notice. He slid himself right in, feeling how she immediately tensed up tightly around him.

“You— F*ck!” She cried out.

He purred, nearly blacking out of her tight c*nt sucking him in. His hips moving in a slow circular motion. Touching all the right spots inside of his little female as he could feel her visibly weakening beneath his gauntlet.

Thrusting upwards once. The whole car moves backwards before coming forward, settling her c*nt back onto his d*ck. A groan coming from both parties.

Thrusting again, he put himself at a slow rhythmic pace with the car. Watching with half lidded eyes as his little female became undone underneath him. Mewls spewing from her lips as she finally let go of his gauntlet. Submitting to him.

Pleased, he loosened his hold on her throat a little more while he leaned down to lick at her shoulder. His tongue slithering across her collarbone. Replacing that weaker males mark on her.

“More!” His little female demanded, crying out when he hit a weak spot inside of her.

He rumbled, releasing his hold on her throat and dragged it down her body and to her thighs. Then hooked both his gauntlet underneath her knees and folded her in half on the car and pushed deeper, faster. In hopes that damn male could listen to her cry out as he f*cked her.

Leaning his head back down. He opened his mouth to put his mark onto her neck. His eyes briefly looking at the forming bruise he made on her neck when he held her by the throat.

A couple more thrusts and he was burying himself to the hilt. Throwing his head back as he groaned out. Feeling how her walls milked him for all that he worth. His d*ck twitching, releasing his thick load.

Huffing, he felt his little female shake underneath him, then slowly go limp. Her tiny body too tired to stay up with his physique.

Oh, but he has so much more to give! He didn’t follow her around for nothing!

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shadowqueenjude · 7 months

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Me waiting for Hunt to die in CC3 so Bryce's boyfriend role can be replaced with a walking red flag (it's a canon event I can't interfere)

#ok but seriously #sjm has done this too many times #replacing the good li with the shitty one #i mean you had #pro chaol #then he was replaced by #anti rowaelin #you had #pro tamlin #anti feysand #like what was she thinking #praying for hunt #hunt athalar #he's a green flag and they're mates so she may kill him off #so she can put her red flag insert #quinlar #rip #sjm critical

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waitingforsecretsouls · 24 days

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Much as I theoretically understand why fandom glomped onto the possibility of the tragic Daeron and Addam romance, it genuinely doesn't seem like the closest explanation the text itself offers. One of the biggest implications people see for this is the paragraph wondering about Tessarion's motivations for intervening in the Vermithor vs Seasmoke fight:

Vermithor’s size and weight were too much for Seasmoke to contend with, Lord Blackwood told Grand Maester Munkun many years later, and he would surely have torn the silver-grey dragon to pieces…if Tessarion had not fallen from the sky at that very moment to join the fight. Who can know the heart of a dragon? Was it simple bloodlust that drove the Blue Queen to attack? Did the she-dragon come to help one of the combatants? If so, which? Some will claim that the bond between a dragon and dragonrider runs so deep that the beast shares his master’s loves and hates. But who was the ally here, and who the enemy? Fire & Blood Chapter 17: The Dying of the Dragons — Rhaenyra Overthrown

People tend to focus a lot on the love aspect and basically ignore the alternate possibility offered up, which is hate as a motivating force.

As happy as I am for people enjoying the concept of Daeron/Addam, let's acknowledge that they have neither actual on page interactions nor as much as implied aquaintanceship, and GRRM is the opposite of subtle when it comes to "hinting" at these things for implied same sex entanglements. One line about Addam, who canonically served on his mothers trading cogs, having previously traveled as far as Oldtown, or Daeron enjoying spending his off - time at Oldtown's or prior to his fostering King's Landings harbour or shipyards would have been sufficient, but instead there's absolutely nothing.

Whereas Daeron and Hugh Hammer, dragonseed and rider of Vermithor, do have canonical interactions, both on page involving dialogue and implied by their close proximity, that develops into a plot relevant enmity, culminating in Hugh stating he'll claim Daeron's birthright for himself, as rider of the largest surviving dragon, and Daeron approving the Caltrops assassination of Hugh in turn.

With his brother Aemond slain as well, the greens found themselves kingless and leaderless. Prince Daeron stood next in the line of succession. Lord Peake declared that the boy should be proclaimed as Prince of Dragonstone at once; others, believing Aegon II dead, wished to crown him king. The Two Betrayers felt the need of a king as well…but Daeron Targaryen was not the king they wanted. “We need a strong man to lead us, not a boy,” declared Hard Hugh Hammer. “The throne should be mine.” When Bold Jon Roxton demanded to know by what right he presumed to name himself a king, Lord Hammer answered, “The same right as the Conqueror. A dragon.” And truly, with Vhagar dead at last, the oldest and largest living dragon in all Westeros was Vermithor, once the mount of the Old King, now that of Hard Hugh the bastard. Vermithor was thrice the size of Prince Daeron’s she-dragon Tessarion. No man who glimpsed them together could fail to see that Vermithor was a far more fearsome beast. [...] The lords and knights of Oldtown and the Reach were offended by the arrogance of the Betrayer’s claim, however, and none more so than Prince Daeron Targaryen himself, who grew so wroth that he threw a cup of wine into Hard Hugh’s face. (...) Lord Hammer said, “Little boys should be more mannerly when men are speaking. I think your father did not beat you often enough. Take care I do not make up for his lack.” The Two Betrayers took their leave together, and began to make plans for Hammer’s coronation. When seen the next day, Hard Hugh was wearing a crown of black iron, to the fury of Prince Daeron and his trueborn lords and knights.

[...] Though Prince Daeron was not present at the council, the Caltrops (as the conspirators became known) were loath to proceed without his consent and blessing. Owen Fossoway, Lord of Cider Hall, was dispatched under cover of darkness to wake the prince and bring him to the cellar, that the plotters might inform him of their plans. Nor did the once-gentle prince hesitate when Lord Unwin Peake presented him with warrants for the execution of Hard Hugh Hammer and Ulf White, but eagerly affixed his seal. Fire & Blood Chapter 17: The Dying of the Dragons — Rhaenyra Overthrown

Which seams like a far more (meaning: at all) established backdrop for that musing about sharing loves and hates to me.

Tldr; Less "love wins" and more "haterism transcending death" for Daeron the Daring.

#asoiaf #hotd spoiler #potentially #daeron targaryen #addam velaryon #hugh hammer #tessarion #as mentioned no shade to people who enjoy it but to me it's even more milquetoast than the one line about Rhaenyra and Laena #(also rip to Aemond for being overshadowed by his brothers even at being a hater)#it's not like I don't understand why people would see it the whole “mating dance” comment etc #but rather that even if such was his intention that GRRM barely even bothered you know?#of course as stated previously I am of the belief that Daeron was actually involved in Tessarions battles #but if you subscribe to his early death + Tessarion fuelled by his emotions then this would be my opinion on Tessarion's weird decision #which is what in universe sources run with (Daeron's death prior to Tessarions battles against Seasmoke and Vermithor)

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