#Old for me but new for the poor souls that follow me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dewdropdinosaur · 2 months

Text

Redemption is Best Served Hot

LUCIFER x READER

Part Two

Summary: You are like the mom Charlie always wanted. And like the partner Lucifer wishes he had.

Warnings: NONE.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! See pinned post for details

In the bustling underworld of Hell, where chaos and mayhem were the order of the day, there stood a peculiar establishment known as the Hazbin Hotel. Run by the optimistic and determined demon princess, Charlie, the hotel aimed to rehabilitate wayward souls and give them a chance at Heaven.

You, an older demon, found yourself entangled in the unique tapestry of the Hazbin Hotel. Drawn to Charlie's mission and warmth, you had become an essential part of the hotel's daily operations. As the pseudo-mother to Charlie and the other inhabitants, Y/N provided a sense of stability and care in the tumultuous underworld. A pillar of support for the lost souls seeking refuge within the hotel's walls, helping with the cleaning, aiding anyone with anything; you were in fact quite literally acting mother to all six inhabitants. Not that they minded, each loved you in their own way. Even Alastor, who would not admit it to himself that maybe your cooking could have rivaled his own mother’s.

“Nifty darling, here. Don’t run around with that old knife. This one is much sharper.” “Oooooo, thank you! BUGS PREPARE TO DIE!”

“Angel, poor thing. Come here, let me draw you a bath and we can talk all about it….or we can just sit in silence. Whatever you would like.” “Yeah…that woulds be good.”

“The new shipment just arrived, Husk! Do you want me to help you carry it in?” “Nah, I got it. But thanks.”

“PENTIOUS! What did I say about letting the Egg Bois into my kitchen?!” “Sssssory Mssss Y/N.” “It’s alright dear, just…please be more mindful of them. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“Vaggie, no you may not kill Alastor.” “But..!” “No buts! You will respect Charlie’s wishes. And that goes for you too, Alastor.” “Oh me? Darling, it would be a pleasure to do as her highness commands.”

And so on and so forth as the world goes.

Over the years, Lucifer, the charismatic and charming ruler of Hell, found himself increasingly drawn to you after the original spout with Heaven. It wasn't just your unparalleled dedication to the hotel or the unwavering support you offered to Charlie; it was a magnetic force that pulled him towards you. Lucifer, accustomed to the chaos and seduction that surrounded him, found the calm demeanor and genuine kindness irresistible. In the dimly lit chambers of the hotel, Lucifer found himself captivated by your unwavering dedication and boundless compassion. He admired the way you effortlessly navigated the tumultuous currents of Hell, offering solace to those who had long abandoned hope.

One evening, as the residents of the Hazbin Hotel gathered for a makeshift family dinner, Lucifer couldn't help but steal glances at you throughout. Laughter echoed through the room, bringing an unusual warmth to the usually cold and unforgiving realm. Lucifer found himself captivated by the way you effortlessly connected with the diverse souls seeking salvation and he felt his heart twinge a little. The scene was sweet, almost too much so. It made him long for something he had never had with Lillith or thought he could ever have. He hardly touched his food all night, too enthralled with you and your presence. You were like an angel, ironically so.

After the meal and asking the Egg Bois to clean up(they were kind enough to oblige), you retreated to the hotel's back rooms with a book in hand, a haven of peace in the chaotic underworld. Lucifer followed, the air thick with an unspoken tension. You, engrossed in a book, hadn't bothered to notice the King of Hell until he cleared his throat. With a small flush of embarrassment at accidentally ignoring him, you looked up and met Lucifer's piercing gaze with a soft smile, setting your book aside.

“What can I do for you Lucifer?”

"Quite the family you've built here," Lucifer commented, his voice a silky blend of charm and authority.

Smiling and setting the book aside, you laughed softly. "They're a unique bunch, but they deserve a chance at redemption, don't they?"

Lucifer nodded, taking a step closer. "And what about you, Y/N?”

Your gaze met Lucifer's, eyes reflecting a depth of understanding about the true meaning of his question. "We're all seeking something, aren't we? Redemption, forgiveness, a second chance."

Lucifer reached out, gently tracing a finger along Y/N's cheek. "And what do you seek, Y/N?"

Your heart fluttered, and as you took a deep breath you held his gaze. Oh how he loved that dazed look in your eyes. He wanted you to look up at him that way everyday if possible. Just the way your sparkling and your lips parted so sinfully sweet, he knew even the original sin barrer himself could be tempted. "I seek a chance to make a difference, to maybe bring a little of Heaven down here when I could never do it when I was alive."

Lucifer leaned in, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "Perhaps you've already brought light to the darkest corner of my realm."

Lucifer then pulled away, a small flush gracing his cheeks. He tipped his hat in acknowledgement before leaving the room without another word. Once outside the door, Lucifer pressed back up against a wall and could feel his undead heart about to beat out of his chest. Placing a hand over his chest in order to calm himself back down, the King of Hell flew back to his castle with a giant grin on his face.

You too were no stranger to the effects of his…flirting. A giant grin and flush appeared on your face as you sunk back down into the chair you were sitting in. Giggling like a schoolgirl, you kicked your feet happily and ignored the book you were once reading.

A forbidden connection sparked between Lucifer and you, a dance of redemption and desire in the heart of Hell, where the Hazbin Hotel stood as an peculiar beacon of hope. For in the heart of Lucifer Morningstar, amidst the chaos of Hell's domain, love had found its most unlikely champion.

#romance #hazbin hotel fandom #vizziepop #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #Lucifer Morningstar x reader #lucifer magne #hazbin lucifer #imagine #lucifer imagine #hazbin hotel 2024 #hazbin hotel #dad beat dad #lucifer hazbin hotel #king of hell #take that depression

551 notes · View notes

surielstea · 3 days

Text

Too Sweet

Based on this request

Pairing: Eris x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader faces the mating bond with an unrelenting Eris

4.1k words

The mating bond. It was an unmistakable notion, and I have it.

Ever since I was a girl I dreamed of my mate sweeping me off my feet and riding off into the sunset. I've been all over Prythian, from summer to winter, but, nothing.

Except now I have the mating bond, a golden string so thin I thought it might snap at any second. I have it, but not with anyone from Summer or Winter, nowhere exotic or far away, but here. My golden string connected to the newly crowned High Lord, the very embodiment of Autumn.

I've known Eris for years, ever since my family came into nobility I was hurled into golden ballrooms and etiquette classes I had no desire to be in.

All the other girls stared at me like I was too poor, too odd. And all of the boys, well no one wants to be friends with a boy from the Autumn Court.

But when I met Lucien Vanserra everything changed. My father was delighted to hear I was becoming close with the High Lord's son, often encouraging me to further get to know the family, and so I did, I even met the esteemed High Lord but he wasn't much to prattle on about.

But the Heir? Oh gods, to say I had a crush was an understatement. I loved Lucien and all but, his brother sure was the highlight of visiting the Forest House.

Any girl would've fallen for the cooler, older brother— but it was never just a crush, it was always something more, something I was never able to explain and now I know why. Soul bound, cauldron fated, mates.

Eris knew, he's known for a while now, and I could feel it.

The male was sitting on the sofa next to Lucien while I sat on the floor petting one of the Shadow Hounds. He and Lucien were just talking about anything, laughing with each other like the boys they never got to be. But Beron's dead and the new High Lord could do whatever he wanted. Including being happy.

Eris was playing with a two-month-old puppy, the dog prancing across Eris's lap and I don't know why but that was it, that's what made the bond snap.

I could physically see the golden string bridging between us, I reached for it and as soon as my fingertips came to contact with it he jolted upward, head whipping towards me with concern laced in his gaze. The puppy looks up at him expectantly, cocking his head in confusion as to why he stopped playing with him.

"You alright?" Lucien said, hand coming to his brother's shoulder. Eris shutters at the contact but his eyes don't leave mine. He arched his brow a fraction, silently asking what the hell it was that I just did to him. I touch the string again and a shiver goes down my spine. "I'm fine," Eris settled back into the couch. "It's cold in here, is all," Eris mutters but that's a lie, it was burning hot in the sitting room. The two men in front of me were like furnaces, not to mention the blazing fire in the hearth.

"I'm going to bed," I get up, Lucien's eyes follow me but Eris doesn't look. "You're packed to leave in the morning?" He asks and I nod. We've been visiting Autumn for more than a week now, originally coming down to celebrate Eris's coronation but that turned into a vacation quickly, but now I feel I've overstayed my welcome. "Mhm," I nod.

"You should get some sleep too, we've got a long trip home," I say and he nods. "Don't worry so much about me," He waves me off and I roll my eyes, feigning casualty when my stomach is twisting itself into knots impossible to untangle. "Night Lu," I press a kiss to the top of his head and he smiles up at me. "Night, Eris," I glance at him and he simply nods, not saying anything, barely looking at me.

I stifle a sigh and turn on my heel, walking down the hall towards my bedroom.

Haco, Eris's leading shadow hound followed me to my bedroom, trotting after me, and once I turn to close the door he sits in the doorway, looking up at me with pleading eyes. I huff and open the door wider. I swear the hound smiles as he welcomes himself into my bedroom.

I flop down onto my large bed with a curse. This mattress was too large for one person, something that was meant to be shared between lovers. "C'mere," I pat the comforter, calling Haco up. He jumps onto the bed, his tail swishing in happiness as I scratch behind his ears. He walks in a circle before settling down at my side, curling into a ball with his head facing the door, like he's guarding me from any intruders.

"Who's a good boy?" I hum and his ears lift at the tone of my voice, turning his head to look at me. "Tell that owner of yours he needs to figure himself out," I say, using the dog as my therapist. The hound looks at me with sad eyes then chuffs and rests his chin down onto my open palm. I sadly smile at the dog, kissing him on the head before laying beside him.

Sleep doesn't come easy that night, in fact, it doesn't come at all. I listened to the muffled voices from down the hall until the familiar sound of Lucien's footsteps passed my door and his door shut, turning in for the night.

Eris's room was on the other side of the large house, the High Lord's room. I look at the dog next to me, a light snore coming from his snout. I smile and press a kiss to his nose. He opens his eyes sleepily, looking at me expectantly as I slide off of my mattress. "I'll be back, stay," I tell him, and Haco whines with a wag of his tail. "Stay," I stress and if he was a human he'd be rolling his eyes. He lays his head down, signaling his defeat. I smile in victory then slip out of my room, light on my feet as I pad down the hall and into the kitchen.

I thank the gods that the two Vanserra brothers finally left the room, I've been parched for a glass of water since I had first gotten into bed.

I pour myself a glass and drink deeply from it, allowing the cold water to slip down my dry throat. Once I finish the glass I go to put it in the sink but as I do a basket of pears catches my attention. Eris and I had gone to the orchards on horses and picked them this morning while Lucien slept in. I freeze mid-step, reminded of how mates accept the bond, how it'd be so easy to offer Eris food and have that happily ever after I've wanted since I was a girl. I sigh and put the glass in the sink, ignoring the pears and walking past them, towards my room.

But my movements are slow like I don't quite want to leave the freshly harvested fruit behind.

I weigh the pros and cons in the middle of the hallway. The worst that would happen is he didn't accept it and I'm crushed forever, but the 'what if?' Thoughts killed me. Because what if he does want it, and just ignores it because he knows I hate this court? What if he does want it and is just afraid I don't?

I sigh, this was shredding me into pieces and I've only been enduring the bond for a few hours. Gods know how long he's known. I spin on my heel and march back towards the basket of pears. If he doesn't accept it then that's fine, I don't want to force him into anything. But I needed to know. I was sick of this miscommunication, I needed closure and this is the best way to get it.

I washed the ripest pear I could find, it smelled the sweetest and yielded when I put pressure on its neck. I debated cutting the pear into slices but decided that'd take too long and I was already trying to talk myself out of my plans.

I stalk down the opposite hall, away from my room. Mapping my way through the sprawling complex of the forest house until I stand in front of a large wooden door, my brows creasing as I realize he might already be asleep.

I think to turn away and do this in the morning instead but before I can even take a step back, Haco scratches at the door with his paw. I didn't even realize the hound was there. Anxiety bubbles up in the pit of my stomach as dread consumes me and I feel my throat get dry all over again. I don't get the chance to flee before the door swings open, revealing a shirtless Eris with a crystal glass filled with an unmistakable amber liquid. I freeze in place. His eyes pin to mine as if he's shocked to see me.

The hound that's caused all of this pads away, down the hall back towards my bedroom like his work is done.

"I thought you were going to sleep?" He tilts his head. "I am— I was," I correct, looking down at the pear in my hand and then back up to him. Suddenly I felt helpless. Like a bunny in the presence of a fox. Utterly vulnerable and far too heedless. "I wanted to give this to you," I held the fruit out, he stared at it for a moment with those piercing golden eyes, but he didn't take it. "A pear?" He tilts his head dumbly as if he's never seen the food before. I swallow thickly. "Eris, please," I say. I didn't want to play these games, I wanted him to accept the bond, want him to accept me.

"I know you know, so just..." My voice trails off as I thrust the pear out towards him and he shakes his head no, taking a step back and my heart sinks into the pit of my stomach. "Eris, please," I repeat, brows creased as I stare at him with pure devotion. "You don't want this, don't want me," He denies. "I've wanted this since I was nineteen," I reason with him and his eyes widen a fraction in disbelief. "You wouldn't be happy with me, I want you to be happy," He argues and now it was my turn to shake my head, my hand dropping as I took a step into his office.

"I'm cruel and bitter, you don't want to live with that," He stresses and I take another step forward, my chest nearly pressed to his as I reach up and cup his jaw. "I've seen every part of you, I want every part," I reassure but he backs away. "Fawn, you don't understand I can't tie you down, you hate this Court and yet I'm the High Lord," He explains. "If we're mated you'd have to live here, I won't strip you of your freedom, I can't do it," He refuses and my frown deepens.

"I hated it here when Beron was in power, but now there's nothing I have to worry about," I argue and his expression matches mine, clearly distraught about the situation. "I'm standing here offering you food, I wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't exactly what I wanted, so eat," I hold the fruit up to his mouth but he catches my wrist, eyes staying on me. "You're too sweet," He sighs but my expression doesn't waver, eyes urging him to eat.

His stare doesn't leave mine as he leans forward and bites into the sugary fruit, the juice of the pear drips from the corner of his mouth and down his jaw, and maybe it was the low lighting, or The Frenzy already setting in, but suddenly I couldn't control my arousal as it spiked.

"You sure this is what you want?" He whispers and I wrap my arms around his neck, chest pressing to his as I crash my lips onto his it was slow and soothing and everything I've ever dreamed of. "There's no going back now," I uttered breathlessly onto his lips. "But yes, this is exactly what I want," I confess and a small smile curves over his lips before placing them right back onto mine. The gentle, chaste kiss quickly morphed into something hungrier and lust-filled. His large, veiny hands roamed down the small of my back, past the curve of my ass and to my thighs. I jump up and he catches me with ease, my legs wrapping around him as I get impossibly closer.

His mouth on mine made every part of me electric. He walks forward until my back is pinned against the wall. He leaves my lips and begins kissing down the column of my throat, his kisses sloppy and feverish and everything I ever wanted. He finds that sensitive spot at my neck and sucks hard.

My head tilts back at the sensation, I whine and he nips at the skin, his tongue quickly gliding over the area, massaging the irritated area and soothing it. "Eris," I sigh out and he sucks harder. "You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you moan my name," He grunts out and his voice, gods the feeling between my legs was growing unbearable.

"I need you, now," I beg. "Please, Eris," I whine and a foxlike smile spreads over his features, his sharp teeth against my neck. "M'sorry baby but I need to take this slow or I'll hurt you," He hums against my burning hot skin. But the arousal, it was too much, too thick between us, I needed him. I rolled my hips onto his abdomen in a needy attempt for friction.

"I don't care, please, Eris," I whimper and his smile only widens. "I want every part of you, remember?" I sigh. "So show me when you’re feral, Eris," I say, pecking up his jaw. The room suddenly becomes ten times hotter as a fire bursts into flames in the furnace.

He didn't reply but instead pushed off the door and carried me towards the large bed.

The mattress was soft against my back as he laid me down with a delicate touch. My legs immediately spread to either side of him, the ache at my core growing to become an inextinguishable fire.

"Gods, you were made for me," He hums, leaning over me. I arch toward him because I was, in fact, made for him. Cauldron fated since the beginning, souls intertwined by birth. "And you, for me," I smile without hesitance as I pull him down by the back of his neck to my lips, sealing my mouth over his.

I hook a leg around his thigh and use all my weight to flip us over, my chest pressed into him as he lands on his back, head on the pillow as an amused smile grows across his features. I grin dreamily and begin to kiss down his jaw, leaving a trail to his neck while his touch roams every inch of me, hands snaking beneath my nightgown and hiking the thin silk up higher.

I grind down onto his hard cock and he grunts in reply, gritting his teeth at the pleasurable feeling. He gets frustrated with the strings of my delicate dress and simply tears it in two, large, strong hands stripping me from the material and leaving me completely bare before him, aside from my remaining undergarments. He curses and grips my breast, causing me to moan and grind down harder onto his member. He massaged my breast with calloused fingertips as I worked at the ties of his pants, needing him now.

He was quick to help me out, stripping me from my bra and then, like the dress, ripping off my panties.

A moment later we're both entirely bare.

My lips pressed to his yet again because he tasted like he smelled, cinnamon and a certain spice that could only be replicated with a mix of smoke and clove. His tongue ran over mine, tasting every exposed inch of me like I was as sweet as honey. I lift onto my knees and align myself with his throbbing cock, he grunts, pulling away from my mouth. "Baby, you can't," He pants in a soft tone. "It'll be too much you need to be prepped," He explains and I all but whine out my reply, "I can, please Eris I'll be so good for you."

"You gonna finish what you started?" His brow arched up the slightest in question and I nod with glossed over eyes. He then grips my hips and pushes me down, his cock splitting me in two as he manages to stuff half of him inside of me. I scream out from the painful pleasure, nails scratching down his chest at the intense feeling of his wide, thick cock spreading me out, my sensitive walls forming around him as I slowly sink myself further down, letting gravity do most of the work until I eventually reach the base of him.

Tears well in my eyes at how gods dammed big he was, I swore I could feel him between my ribs. I stifle a deep breath and slowly begin to grind down, my legs jolting occasionally at the stimulation. His hands roamed from my breasts to my thighs, rough skin brushing over every part of me for pleasure alone and I was drunk on it.

I began moving faster, lifting and driving my hips over his while he stared up at me with pure lust. "S'too big," I rasp out, and a conniving smirk cuts across his features. "My poor girl, can only think about my cock hm?" He tilts his head and all I can do is nod, agreeing just in case he'd make me stop if I didn't. My panting becomes more and more irregular, breathless moans escaping me every time the head of his cock kisses that intense, sensitive spot of my cervix. By the Mother, he's so fucking huge.

A knot bundles at the edge of my stomach, twining itself tighter and tighter as I rut myself over him.

His hand drifts to my ass, gripping it tightly in one of his hands while the other does the same to my hip. "Fuck, you're doing so well riding me baby," He praises and my cheeks heat, from both the heat of the room and the vulnerability of all of this. Baring my very soul to him, giving him my body, him, my mate.

"Faster baby," He orders, and I do as he says to the best of my abilities, he slaps my ass, hard, and I release an unearthly and lewd sound at the feeling, making me go double the speed. "That's it, so good for me," He commends and a dazed smile washes over my features, the knot growing stronger and harder to ignore.

"M’close, Eris," I warn and he nods. "It's okay, me too baby," He reassured and right on queue he twitches inside of me, the slight curve of his cock pressing into my most sensitive place deliciously. His hand navigates all the way up to my neck, wrapping around the back of it then pulling me down to his lips, softly pressing my mouth into his as I continue to spear myself atop him, breasts bouncing at the action as he continued to grip one of them.

"Cum on my cock," He orders, pulling away as he bit down on my lower lip and I whimper, tears now streaming onto my cheeks. My brows crease as my entire body shivers and I feel an electric surge race through me, finally reaching that orgasmic high, subconsciously clenching around him at the sensation and involuntarily making him find his own release. He grunted out as I screamed his name, nails marking lines down his chest as I milk his cock, his warm seed pumping inside of me as the fire in the hearth roared with intensity.

The room is filled with heavy panting and soft groaning as we both come down from our shared high, my legs shaking and my head dipping into his shoulder.

"Fuck, you did so good baby," He sighs out, going to move me off of him but I shake my head and cling to his chest, his member still nestled deep inside of me, holding his cum in. "Not yet," I whispered tiredly. "Wanna stay like this," I hum and his arms wrap tightly around my waist, my chest pressed to his as the fire slowly dwindles. "You're so perfect," He presses a hard kiss to the crown of my head and I furrow deeper into his shoulder.

"My sweet girl," He hums and the new name has my chest blooming in warmth.

I shift my hips, his cock brushing against my sensitive walls and making me shiver. Only then did his member begin to harden again, and I knew then that with his Fae endurance and my arousal, that it was going to be a long night.

———

"Eris I know she's in there open up!" Lucien calls through the door as I stir from my sleep, slowly waking up from my short-lived sleep. "You woke her up, asshole!" Eris shouts back, holding me close to his chest as if Lucien was about to burst in through the High Lord's door at any moment.

"Then tell her we have to leave," Lucien demands through the door as I peek my eyes open. "You couldn't pry her from my dead body," Eris retorts and I can practically see Lucien rolling his eyes on the other side of that door. "Eris maybe I should go—" I don't even get to finish my sentence before he pulls me into him, my face smushed into his shoulder.

"Oh my sweet girl, you're foolish to think you're leaving my side for the rest of the week," He hums and I pull away from his shoulder and look up at him. "I was going to say maybe I should go tell him I'm not coming with," I say, planning on staying at his side for more than just a week. "Oh, okay," He murmurs, arms loosening from my waist and I giggle, getting out of the bed and pulling Eris' shirt from the desk chair and sliding it over my frame so I was decently covered before facing Lucien.

Before I can open the door, my mate appears behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist possessively. I hold back a scoff and swing the door open, meeting a very disgruntled Lucien with my packed bag in his arms.

"I'm not coming," I say blankly and he matches my stare. "I know," He hands me my bag and I thank him with a wide smile. Eris' arms tighten at the action, his head dipping down into my shoulder as he begins to trail kisses up my neck.

"This, it's weird," He gestures to us and I giggle, hand coming up to the nape of Eris's neck. "Alright, have fun lovebirds," Lucien knocks on the wood of the doorframe as a farewell, then he leans in to place a kiss on the crown of my head like he does every time we bid each other a farewell but he freezes as a low growl sounds from the bottom of the High Lord's throat.

"Right, see you soon, hopefully," He says then walks down the hall, Eris quickly shuts the door once he's gone then pushes me up against it, my cheek pressed to the cold wood as his hardened member presses against my ass. "You look so cute in my clothes," He purrs, kissing up my jaw to my ear, nipping at my lobe, and making me curse in pleasure. I knew then it was going to be a long, yet enjoyable week.

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glitterypirateduck @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @fauxdette @going-through-shit @glam-targaryen @cauldronboilme27 @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogerbarnesxx @azriels-shadowsinger @stinkinstuffie @sandramalikstyles-blog @sassyangel16 @lilah-asteria @starsinyourseyes @inloveallthetime @melsunshine @nighttimemoonlover @ireallywannasleep127 @cumuluscranium @adharanotfound @azrielsmate3 @aelincaddel @hiddlestonspassionsackx

219 notes · View notes

writingfool001 · 2 months

Text

Unexpected Events

Author’s Note: When I presented the prompt, this request came first so sorry to Malleus requests. I may do one later. Also I absolutely love indie or alternative style jewelry. As much as jewels are lovely and pretty, I like the interesting shapes or designs of them. For those who need a mental visual, imagine hot topic’s silver looking rings that are sold in packs.

Pairing: Azul x GN! Reader

Warning: newly wedded, You/ your pronouns, and reader is gender neutral. We’re going to act like both (YN) and Azul are 18. Also (Y/N) is a second year and a childhood friend.

“Potato, what is that?”

“Hm?” You are brought out of your thoughts and look at your hand. “A ring? I wear a few rings.”

“Obviously,” Vil rolled his eyes. “But why are you wearing one on your marriage finger?”

“Maybe (Y/N) got proposed to by a distant prince or suitor?” Kalim chimed in.

“Pssh as if.” Leona grumbled.

“I also wonder why you’re wearing a ring on your ring finger.” Riddle added. “It sticks out of the ones you wear.”

“I saw it and liked it. I may not have expensive rings like Vil or Leona, but this one caught my eye, and it just happens to fit this finger.” you answered, waving off their suspicion.

The only reason that you were wearing one was due to a foolish decision that you made when you were younger and didn't fully know the laws on marriage for Merpeople. This was only brought to your attention recently.

There was a furious banging on your door, and you opened it to be welcomed by immediate dried rice being thrown at you which you immediately closed your eyes.

"Congratulations, shrimpy!" You heard Floyd cheer.

"We're so fortunate to have witnessed such a monumental event." Jade chuckled.

"What?" You exclaim, opening your eyes and brushing the stray rice off of you. "Why did you throw rice at me? What do you mean by monumental event?"

"I've been told by clownfish that people throw rice at married people." Floyd explained.

"I'm not married though and those are at weddings." You respond as your eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why are you two here exactly?"

"To deliver this to you," Jade presented an envelope to you. "Azul told us to deliver this to you."

You carefully take the envelope before opening it and taking out the paper then begin reading or skimming the page. Yet one line stood out.

As of this year, the Coral Sea government now recognizes your marriage to Azul - is valid.

….

…

"What?!" You yelled as you reread the line before closing your door and making your way to your alleged husband as the twins followed.

As the meeting started, you were somewhat listening as you fidgeted with the octopus ring. There were several topics that were touched on as it was school related. When I was acknowledged, you just replied with uh huh.

"You're not even listening." Azul spat.

"I don't need to because it's always the same with you. Poor unfortunate souls and shady deals followed by you going on about who knows what." You retort back.

“You both bicker like an old married couple.” Leona groaned, causing Kalim to laugh and Vil to chuckle.

That comment made you think back to how you confronted Azul.

I busted through the door as Floyd whined about how he didn't have any more rice to throw. Jade only chuckled and pulled his brother away, leaving Azul and you alone.

"I see you got the news about our current endeavor." Azul calmly stated as you closed the door. “It would appear that we are married.”

"We don't have a marriage license." I pointed it out, thinking that would change anything. “Wouldn’t that make it invalid?”

“They already did a background check on us and delivered us one.” He slid the piece of paper over you which showed the government issued marriage license.

"Tax write off and other benefits we can both enjoy." Azul corrected.

"How are you calm about this?" You question him, glaring at him suspiciously.

"As I said, it is beneficial for both of us and when one of us decides to split, then we can just divorce." Azul repeated calmly which fell off in a way, yet you agreed with that arrangement.

It's never that simple with Azul. One thing you learned from your friendship was always read between the lines. Especially when it came to Azul.

Only Jade and Floyd knew about the marriage between you two. Jade would stop Floyd before letting it slip too far if you all are around others in public. There is the occasional bickering, but nothing to the point that either of you say anything extremely hurtful to one another. Eventually, the marriage thing slipped both of your minds and you went about your normal day to day lives.

You were scrolling through Magicam as you looked at endless posts that had rings that would be considered funky or strange and would fall under the indie style category. You saved a few to look at later. You didn’t know that Azul caught a glance over your shoulder and remembered that you would always wear a few rings that sat on the base of your fingers and a few thin knuckle ones. All the rings you wore were more indie than anything. Tasteful and interesting yet nothing too crazy.

One night, you were sitting in Azul's office, studying since it was the only place that was quiet enough and no one would think you were off the top of their head. While you studied, Azul was working on contracts at his desk as you both enjoyed doing your own thing while still being in the same room.

As you were in the middle of reading a page, you heard Azul clear his throat and look up to see him set a small black box on the table.

“I noticed that you have a certain taste in rings, and I saw this one. It reminded me of you.” He explained sheepishly, even though he tried hiding his reluctance. You both held eye contact in silence for a few seconds before he went back to working on his contracts, leaving you to your own devices.

You looked at the ring and it was simple, yet it had a unique flare to it. Looking back to see Azul went back to being busy. You slip it on and quietly walk over closer to him so that you can see the small wrinkle in his nose he gets when he's focused.

You lean over and kiss his cheek, catching him off guard.

"Awe you still look so cute when you blush." You lightly tease, making his cheek get rosy.

"I'm not cute.” He grumbled as he went back to work where you noticed a slight outline under his glove, particularly on his ring finger, making you chuckle.

Maybe being married to him for now wouldn't be so bad.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x mc #twst azul x reader #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #twisted wonderland azul #azul ashengrotto

295 notes · View notes

mamirhodessxox · 9 days

Note

Request for Cody 💜

Cody is on the road a lot and a workaholic, to the point he neglects his wife in a way. He misses date nights, family dinners and a birthday party to the point reader files for divorce. Cody then tries to get his family back. ( 3 year old son Silas , 9 month old daughter Brielle )

Before You Leave Me

Cody Rhodes x Fem!Reader

Desc: Cody has seemed to be more focused in his work life than his own personal home life which leaves Y/N in a conflicted decision that he refuses to accept.

Contents: Angst, Fluff, Mentions of divorce, light false accusations of cheating , use of foul language, arguing, Happy endings :)

🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts-deactivated2 @adollonyourshelf @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41 @harmshake @femdisa @kabloswrld @claymoresofinfamy23 @jeysbvck

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

Being married to Cody was not easy, especially if you were head over heels for the man, You thought that if he settled down, had children, etc, he would be less of a workaholic but boy were you wrong. He was on the road 24/7 You & the kids barely got to see him, You both were parents of 2, a 3 year old son named Silas & your new 9 month old daughter Brielle, He missed out on a lot within MONTHS.

Cody was a man who brought food on the table, he was man of the house but because of his absence it was leaving your song with many questions such as “Why didn’t daddy come to my birthday party?” Or “Why wasn’t daddy here for Christmas?” These were questions you had no idea how to answer to the poor kid other than “Daddy was busy” which was a bullshit answer, He should never be too busy to miss out on his sons 2nd birthday but once the 3rd birthday hit you were sick of it and his false promises. This made you order divorce papers before the birthday as a just incase moment if he didn’t show up to his sons party within a few weeks.

2 weeks prior to Silas’ 3rd birthday you two had argued over work and by the end of that shit show he promised with his entire soul he would be there for his sons 3rd birthday, but ultimately he couldn’t make it because of his schedule. This was becoming a regular habit almost every year, Cody missed out on your guys’ dates, holidays, birthday’s & anniversary..but this was the final straw.

It was the day of your son’s birthday and you waited in the backyard watching your toddler run around with his friends while other parents attempted asking you on where your husband was. You held Brielle in your arms checking your phone every few hours but got no updates from Cody.

And then night time struck. You set Brielle in her crib and pranced into your son’s room to tuck him in bed “Mommy?” You heard the 3 year old chirp out as he sat criss crossed in his bed with a moping expression “Yes sweetheart?” Silas frowned when you got to his level “Where’s daddy? He promised.” Your heart broke in half as your son asked where his father’s presence was, you shrugged and frowned before kissing the top of his head “Daddy got caught up in work sweetheart, I’m sorry,” he huffed and turned to his side once you finished tucking him in you had snuck into the bedroom that used to be shared with you & cody, you kneeled down to the height of your bedside table taking out the papers you had waiting for this very moment & began signing away what you possibly could on your side of the divorce & proceeded to walk downstairs with them and set them down on the kitchen counter next to the pen you had used consenting to the divorce.

around 2:30 in the morning you heard the door open & close in a quiet manner followed by a heavy sigh & luggage being set onto the ground which made you sit up from the couch, Cody looked over towards your direction and smiled lightly before taking notice at the irritated look on your face “You missed his party.” He heard you speak up and stop in his tracks before you stood up “Sweetheart there was problems with the bu-“ “You said that for our anniversary, his 2nd birthday, Christmas, Halloween, the excuse is getting outdated Cody.” He frowned and your words knowing you were right, “Well I’m here no-“ you shook your head while walking past your husband and booking it to the kitchen “I’m tired of this Cody. I love you & you know I do hut it kills me when our son is walking around with a hurt heart whenever he sees another child with a present father, he asks me almost 12 times a day where his daddy is or why didn’t you come to his birthday party. Hell he even requested to have a cake dedicated to yo-“ “Y/N I work like hell to put food on the table and keep a roof under your head!” You widened your eyes and glared “Quite honestly Cody I’d rather fucking starve to death if it meant my son & daughter’s father was present in their life! I’m sick of having all of the neighborhood moms gossiping about our marriage & I’m sick of you not being here for your kids & wife!.”

Cody frowned and tried approaching you but looked down at the counters for a split second and saw papers “What the hell is this?” You shrugged before rummaging through the fridge before pulling out a bottle of wine & pouring the red liquid into a glass “Divorce papers Cody. This marriage clearly isn’t working and I’d rather put it to an end now before it gets worse. You’re 4 steps away from having an affair with another woman with how far away you’ve been from your family so I’d rather prevent you betraying our marriage. I’m mainly doing it for the kid-“ “Y/N I would never cheat on you what the hell are you talking about?!”

You frowned setting down the glass & leaned against the counter behind you with crossed arms “You were nearly late when I gave birth to Brielle, You didn’t show up last Christmas or the Christmas before, You didn’t show up to your sons 3rd and 2nd birthday all for a fucking job that involves you getting punched everyday for a check. You forgot about our anniversary, I didn’t want to do this Cody but this marriage isn’t working, If I stayed any longer nothing would change, I have tried like hell to get you to be here for our family but your too focused on a paycheck then us.” You didn’t notice a tear roll down your face until it dropped onto your arm. Cody frowned & approached your carefully and shook his head “I’m not accepting those damn papers sweetheart, You know I won’t, I’m not leaving you or this fam-“ “You already have, You missed out on Brielle crawling for the first time, You missed out on your son joining the little leagues soccer team and getting a score, You even missed out on be finding out I was pregnant with Brielle Cody. How am I supposed to believe you when you haven’t been here to prove me anything?”

He shook his head and stepped closer towards you and tangled his fingers within your hair and wiped off your face with his free hand “Let me make it right sweetness, let me prove you wrong, I’ll do anything in my power to prevent this from happening, I’ll take time off, I’ll quit anything you want just say the word but goddamnit your not leaving me.” He crouched onto his knees in front of you and kissed your legs gently and gripped at the summer dress he gifted you that was hugging your body in the right ways, You’d never seen Cody beg on his knees before, especially for you to stay with him “Cody I want nothing from you, I don’t want child support from thi-“ “Y/N your not fucking divorcing me, I won’t allow it to happen & if you think for a millisecond in that beautiful goddamn brain of yours that I will then you are extremely mistaken.”

Your fingers ran through his hair as he stared up at you before kissing your stomach down your thigh to your leg before holding your hand and kissing the ring he placed on your dainty finger when you both were wedded. “Cody I can’t keep doing this anymore, You keep making false promises that I know I can no longer believe.” He frowned and gripped at your hips slightly while he shook his head non stop “Y/N I will never ever miss out on another holiday, anniversary, or birthday, it breaks me knowing you expect me to betray our marriage I will do anything in my power to prevent you from leaving me even if it means I quit my job baby.”

You frowned and thought about his words before hesitantly nodding your head which made his stand on his feet and holding your face in the palms of his hands “I promise I will never miss another important day ever again angel.” He mumbled before pulling her into a gentle kiss “I love you..” You muttered against his mouth before pulling away “I-I’m really sorry for pulling the whole divorce thing..” he shook his head and pulled you into a large hug “Don’t apologize sweetheart, I understand your frustrations & more than that but you also know by now that You’re not leaving me that easily” you smiled sadly against his shoulder and pull away while he gently grabbed ahold of your hand and placed a kiss on your wedding ring “Why don’t you go and get some rest alright? I’ll take control of everything tomorrow & I’ll empty out my schedule, go get some sleep alright?”

You held onto his hand and nodded hesitantly before pull away making your way upstairs to the bedroom you two would share, Cody stood in the kitchen & sighed running his hand down his jaw & glared over at the divorce papers before snatching them off of the counter & ripping them to shreds before dumping the pieces of paper in the trash before he went upstairs moments later.

The next morning you woke up to his side of the bed quite cold and empty which made you frown “Cody?” You tried calling out but you soon heard the giggles of Silas souring throughout downstairs which immediately pulled you into relief before climbing out of bed & making your way downstairs & seeing Cody serving a birthday breakfast to Silas which brought a warm smile on your face before approaching him “Morning sweetheart.” He hummed out before pushing a mug filled with coffee towards you which you took into your hands “Morning love” you walked past Silas who was eating the pancakes Cody made him & pressed a kiss into his head before doing the same with Brielle who was in a high chair.

You sat on the couch and looked over towards the kitchen once more & smiled to yourself as Cody kept to his word on being more present for you & the kids, You were immediately happy with the fact he fought for you to not go through with the divorce & ultimately proved his promises too you.

mamirhodessxox’s Masterlist

129 notes · View notes

tadpolesonalgae · 11 months

Text

Demon!Azriel x Reader: Teeth and Talons

Summary: you’re accused of witchcraft and sacrificed to the shadow creatures, only to be saved by their ruler who’s suspiciously in sudden need of a bride…

Warnings: demon!Azriel, drinking blood (more vampiric), mentions of cannibalism, sexual tension, rituals, monsterform! azriel?, biting

A/N: I do want to make a small note that @azrielscrown ’s Prince of Hell series made me want to write my own demon!Azriel fic!

-Part 2- -Part 3-

Visual Prompt here!

You’re a trembling mess, cold sweat slicking your body with sallow skin, temperature fluctuation from sizzling to so cold you feel you’ll seldom be capable of movement once the fit has passed. You know what the priests will say. Possession. They’ll say you’re being inhabited by a shadow creature, tie you to the bed and mist sacred water across you until your body shatters.

The fever isn’t subsiding, and you’re not the first to succumb to the strange plague sweeping through the citadel. Just one of many poor, unfortunate souls. You’ve heard they’ve taken to burning the bodies. Some not completely void of life before they’re set alight.

Is this really the end? It swept in so abruptly, seizing you firmly as it ravages you internally. You can only hope death will come silently.

————————

When you wake, your rags are soaked with sweat, a dark pool having formed beneath you, yet you are no longer being sieged by heat. Your brow is clear of sweat, your limbs no longer being wracked with tremors.

You’re struck by the peculiarity of the miracle. Nobody else has survived. Surely if the plague wasn’t fatal word of mouth would have carried the news to the emperor by now. Not as if he would know what to do. Not as he if was actually ruling.

Maybe some god had taken pity on you.

You should make an offering to Thesan.

————————

The following morning you were arrested. Witchcraft, they said.

Not miracle-worker. That was reserved for men.

The stories had willingly flown in. A woman without husband, living by herself, suddenly recovering from an absolutely fatal plague? Corruption. A pact made with the Lord of the underground. The king of Hel.

Devil worshipper.

Witch.

Whore.

The last you knew had nothing to do with the allegations and everything to do with your sex. It didn’t make the sting and less painful.

————————

You’re thrown to your knees at the foot of the dais, the boy-king sat atop the throne, lounging in a bored fashion. He only perked up when he was brought ‘visitors’, or rather, people for him to inflict punishment.

Candle-wic, he cries, clapping his hands in puerile manner, his young mouth lifting into a gleeful smile as he points at you. How a child could so joyfully sentence someone to being doused in scalding tarmac only to be then set aflame, you could hardly fathom, yet here the boy-king sat, dictating your fate with a flick of his youthful hand.

His advisor advises him. Something less flamboyant. More discreet.

It’s the first time you’re setting eyes upon the emperor’s advisor and you’re not at all surprised to see the old man with already fading hair and wrinkles that swallow his eyes beneath flaps of loose skin. But that’s what you catch on. Eyes black as the devil’s, black like you’ve never seen black. Dark as pitch.

They’re alarmingly void, more than anyone’s have any right to be…and lacking in definition. Just one solid layer glazing across the obsidian coloured surface. Depthless.

He suggests leaving you for the devil you sold your heart to in order to revive a remedy. There’s no use in proclaiming your piety, their minds are set. You’re a threat to their power, an unseen obstacle and must be dealt with accordingly.

————————

And that’s how you find yourself in the centre of The Blood Rite. The private ceremony is reserved for great warriors to prove their worth. Though apparently, it serves as a discreet method of elimination for unwanted - innocent or not - citizens.

The earth is damp beneath your knees, the bones sinking into the mud. Your wrists are bound painfully - a courtesy that would not be extended to a warrior. The ties are designed to hinder, to make an already inevitably gruesome death all the more horrid by removing any ridiculously self-indulgent notions of escape.

Your breath fogs as you exhale harshly, the night air freezing your lungs with every breath. How long had you been kneeling here, waiting patiently for your end? Because it’s coming for you. There’s no point of struggling. Movement would only catalyse the inevitable. Maybe if you remained still, calmed your heart and removed any sort of thrum from your body the unknown entity would leave you be.

Wishful thinking.

The night air presses in on you, goosebumps pebbling up your forearms, hackles rising at your back. There’s a presence to the forest you’ve been dumped in, a cloying madness that lies between the trees, stalking every silent breath of damp air.

A twig snaps to your right, tension rippling up your body, neck flushing with heat as terror seeps from your being. Your eyes dart around the forrest in a frenzied dance.

A shadow flickers in your peripheral vision, darting behind a tree. Pulses thrum through you, beating your blood melody loud and clear. How long would your death last? Would you unnecessarily suspended in those agonising moments that should be limited to mere seconds? Or would the dark beasts draw out your torture, playing with the shreds of your skin with carnal delight.

Something rustles to your left, like a hurried shuffle through leaves, only made to taunt and confuse. Made to misdirect.

Then something pounces on you, sharp claws biting into your shoulders as you’re slammed backwards into the ground. Maybe it would be quick, but not painless. A beast wreathed in shadow, four paws with talons the length of your forearm and rows of razor sharp teeth that glitter with wet saliva beneath the silver moonlight. It has an elongated snout, a flat nose sliding over the protrusion, skin around it’s eyes peeled back to be permanently bulging.

It shoves it’s snout against the spoonful of your abdomen, sizing up how big a bite to take. You pray, silver lining your eyes as your body trembles, petrified to the spot. You can easily imagine entrails decorating it’s teeth like the wreathing in temples. Your stomach lurches.

Then it releases an ear splitting scream, agony slicing down your ears as it howls to the sky. Hot, dark liquid splatters onto your torso, followed by a wet ripping sound. Its blood - you assume that’s the liquid - smells of damp clothes left in a pile beneath the sun: stagnant. Admittedly, not the worst scent.

The large creature goes lax, slumping forward, toppling on top of you. You’re crushed by the weight that slugs into you, knocking the breath from your lungs as you careen backward.

The beast is nudged aside by a large protrusion of shadow, flipping the creature onto its back, allowing you to see the viscera spilling from its soft, round belly. A cold sweat slicks your skin, hairs standing on end as inherent dread twists you round it’s sharp talons.

The humanoid shadow steps forward and you’re frozen in place, hardly able to even shift a muscle as it prowls closer. Until it’s stood in front of you. Fight or flight kicks in, everything kickstarting inside of you as you scramble to your feet, finding safe purchase on the forest floor.

You back up, paralysed with fear as you watch the creature, shadows flickering at its silhouette. Before you really have a chance to move, or even do anything, the shadows swarm forward and you feel rough hands gripping your upper arms.

The last thought you have is how abnormally elongated the creatures talons are, like those on a phœnix.

————————

Your mind can barely comprehend the information. Words turning to mush in your brain, thoughts slowing to a sluggish squelch as you sit across from the dæmon. Azriel.

Azræl? You had asked, trying to pronounce the word on your tongue, but the syllables simply bumbled together. He’d shaken his head, Azriel, he’d repeated. You’d kept you silence, deciding the chance of spelling it out in your mouth to his liking was low enough to class as a risk. Instead you’d swallowed and nodded. He’d looked as though he’d push, but his eyes flicked to the bowl in front of you, ordering you to eat.

All he’d told you was he was in need of a human bride. Not why. Or what your role was. Nothing. So you went on with nothing, deciding to follow his command to eat, despite the protests from your stomach.

You look down only to see there’s no cutlery. Your lips part silently in question, flicking about the table as he watches you from the opposite end, marking your actions. His gaze makes you squirm in your seat, discomfort pressing down on you.

Eventually you swallow, lifting your gaze to his nervously. That was another thing, his eyes: Eyes black as the devil’s, black like you’ve never seen black. Dark as pitch.

“May I have a knife and fork?” You request, voice hoarse and scratchy. His eyes bore into you, piercing your soul as they filter through your pupils. You swallow again, throat feeling dry. The table has a single jug - no glasses. The water is crystal clear, mist condensing over the glass, no doubt refreshingly cool. Your parched throat is desperate for reprieve, yet he gives you none.

You’re in Hel, he’d told you. That was becoming clear.

You try sitting in silence with him, but he keeps staring at you with those wild, pitch black eyes, pupils that swallow his irises - if dæmons have irises.

“You’re not going to inquire why I selected you?” He breaks the silence, his deep voice rolling across to you, encompassing your sentences.

“I’m not so conceited as to believe you intentionally chose me,” you reply, steeling your spine as your eyes flick to his. “You are clearly a creature of self-serving narcissism.” Is it wise to say that to a dæmon that technically saved your life? Either way, you hope he doesn’t hold that over you. Dæmons can be…unkind when it comes to their debts.

“Creature over beast?” He responds. Despite the casual tone he’s using, his sharp gaze reminds you it’s anything but. “Are you a beast?” You settle on.

“That’s for you to decide for yourself.”

You bite off some of the fluffy bread, “so there’s no definitive answer?”

He cocks his head, amusement sparking in his obsidian gaze. The movement makes you pause. You have close to zero idea what his intentions are.

You swallow. “You’re not going to eat anything?” You nod to his end of the table, void of any eating instruments. What do dæmons eat, anyway? Do they eat?

A slow smile lifts the edges of his mouth, the tips of glittering canines protruding beneath his lips. There’s nothing remotely kind about it.

Discomfort coils in your lower belly. You’re no longer hungry. Moving slowly, you quietly push the plate away a little, lowering your hands to your lap as you shift in the chair. Something gleams in his eyes and you wonder if he derives pleasure from the buildup of tension before a kill. Immediately, you regret the thought.

“I think I’m full,” you announce, softly, hoping you’ll be allowed to leave the chamber. “Not curious about my eating habits?” He drawls. You know you probably don’t want to hear the answer, but he’s not really giving you a choice. All you can hope for is that it won’t upend the contents of your stomach.

“It didn’t seem as though you were keen on answering,” you reply, watching your hands fiddle in your lap.

He hums, and you prepare yourself. But silence follows.

When you lift your gaze to see what he’s doing, he’s gone, seat empty. It’s unnerving being in his presence, but at least you have a vague sense of where he is. Now you feel as if he’s watching from every corner. You shift in your seat, heart pounding.

A hand wraps beneath beneath your jaw and you flinch, jumping in your seat. He pulls your head to the side, lips grazing the sensitive skin of your neck as your fingers turn white with how hard they’re biting into the wood of the chair arm. Your jaw tightens as you feel the menacing scrape of canines tracing your throat, every muscle in your body turning rigid as you shrink into the chair.

“How obedient,” he drawls, the muffled murmur making your hair stand on end. “I bet I could sink my teeth into you and you wouldn’t move a muscle.” Your breathing turns shallow as you try to limit your movement. “Isn’t that right, bride?” His razor sharp teeth scrape a little too close, a hot stinging sensation prickling your neck. You try to lean away from him but his grip tightens.

“You eat humans?” The tremble in your voice is prominent, and you’re surprised you don’t stutter with the fear that’s thrumming along with your heartbeat. “Among other things,” he drawls, inhaling your scent as you try not to move. Your breath catches as he opens his mouth over your throat, a whimper working it’s was from your own as terror climbs higher. A quiet squeak leaves you as his tongue swipes out, hot and wet, dragging over your skin as he tastes you.

“I can imagine how your skin would come apart beneath my teeth.” Another scrape, followed by that sting. He huffs a dark laugh onto your neck, “does that terrify you, bride?” White spots swim in your vision, dark blotches accompanying them as he squeezes on your throat.

Then he’s pulled back, the spot on your neck feeling cold and empty now his mouth is no longer latched onto you.

“Come, it’s time to retire.”

————————

I can imagine how your skin would come apart beneath my teeth.

The more you replay the words, the stronger the thrill they send spilling inside of you. You have to remind yourself it would be painful. Unpleasantly so. It wouldn’t the be sting he’d given you over the meal, it would be a frenzied shredding. Ripping and tearing as you’re pulled apart beneath his teeth and talons.

If he becomes bored of you, or you fail to meet any expectation of his, would he be free to replace you? Your brow furrows. Are you dead? Surely nothing alive can exist in the underworld. It’s a home for the damned.

Are you damned?

An adrenaline-fuelled smile cracks your lips. Maybe he’s your damnation.

What a silly thought.

At least the bed looks comfy. It’s circular - you hadn’t known they could be circular - and has a distinct lacking of pillows and blankets that you would have expected to decorate the mattress. Maybe that’s just another difference between your kinds.

“You don’t like it.” Displeasure drips from his words as you jump. He’s a very quiet predator. Automatically, you retreat a few steps, finding him directly in front of you when you turn to face his voice. He follows like a dance partner, hand gripping your jaw as he looks down at you, face blank. “Ungrateful,” he taunts, softly.

“I’m curious about the bedding,” you stammer, hauling yourself together. “The nest is fashioned after your own,” he replies, eyes remaining on yours as he pulls you closer, “you did not seem to value them in your own den.”

Heat flushes your cheeks, eyes snapping away from his, “they’re expensive.”

“Steal, then.” You bite back your reply, that if you were caught, you’d suffer a less than favourable death. His brow twitches, “swallow your tongue and be surprised when you choke,” he mutters.

“What?”

He releases your jaw, stalking away, leaving you dazed and confused.

————————

He prowls through your thoughts that night, every scene you dreamt up tainted by a dark shadow lurking just out of sight. The presence grows more sinister as the imagery drags on, growing stronger with every second. He brings a flare of heat with him, every touch of shadow sending flame to lick between your thighs until the dreamscape shifts.

You’re lying on the circular mattress, darkness shrouding the surrounding room, lit only by candles. The milky wax melts to the floor, moving in circles until it forms a tight ring around the mattress. Then, the streams start looking toward your bed, rolling beneath you to inevitably join.

It’s an altar.

Your heart pounds as you look up, that dark presence returning, lurking at the end of the mattress. His pitch black irises take up the whole of his eyes, leaving the ball smothered in darkness. There’s no doubt he looking at you. Shadowy sinew runs beneath his skin, and you follow the lines with your eyes.

He’s naked. Completely without clothing.

Gorgeous. Crafted. Divine.

He’s different from earlier. The blotted out eyes and sinew aside, his canines are more pronounced, fur dusts his abdomen, thickening as you follow down. The same black veins pulse along his cock that’s hard and swollen. Begging to rut into something.

You’re desperate for water, throat parched as you tear your gaze away, dragging it over the rest of him. Scars lacerate his torso, decorating the corded muscle of his arms. Sharp talons split from the skin of his fingertips, curved and razor sharp. As long as your forearm, you would guess, if not longer.

You suck in a breath, raising your gaze to his blacked out eyes. He’s hungry. Ravenous. All of it piercing into you as you shift in the nest, trying to slowly shuffle backward. You catch sight of yourself as you’re doing so, clothed only in a white robe that’s barely concealing your breasts. The lace reaches just past your elbows before it cuts of, and the rest of the silky fabric does nothing to conceal your heat from him. He has the perfect view of you: your thighs are parted though you’re trying to squeeze them together, nipples peaking through the sheer silk.

But he doesn’t move. He just stands there, watching. Waiting.

He’s waiting on you. Waiting for you to come to him.

Heat spools between you thighs as a sinful curve tips the edges of his mouth, like he’s hearing your thoughts and giving you the confirmation you need. You’re not sure what will happen if you don’t adhere to whatever ritual he’s caught you in.

But you know you’re in a dream. You’re asleep; safe. He can’t hurt you here. It means nothing.

Maybe that’s why you shift onto your hands and knees when he beckons you toward him with the pull of his middle and index finger, crawling toward him, eyes trained on one another. It’s like you’re enraptured by him, everything around the male fading to negative space as he encompasses your conscious. He’s everything.

You stop when you reach him, tucking your legs beneath you as you kneel before him, hands in your lap. How obedient. His mouth splits open in a murderous grin, baring his sharp canines as he takes in your submissive form. Small.

How he’ll enjoy defiling you.

————————

You wake with a gasp, skin damp but clothed. You pant, fingers gripping the mattress as you haul down lungfuls of air.

“Bad dream?”

You scream, jerking away from the voice, scrambling backward but a hand wraps around your ankle. He pulls you toward him, making you scream harder, kicking as your night robe rides up until the silk is pooling at your waist.

He snarls at the noise, lifting from his stomach, muscle flexing with the movement, as he climbs on top of you. His hand covers your mouth, silencing you as he straddles your middle. The male sleeps naked. You silently thank his shadows for sparing you the humiliation of a shameful flush decorating you cheeks should you have seen him again, in such a short span.

Silver lines your eyes as those same shadows tie your wrists down.

Terror sets in and you open your mouth, biting down hard on his hand. He doesn’t even flinch. Only cocks his head in what seems like confusion, pulling his hand away to examine it. You still, not knowing what to do. You don’t want to provoke him any further. “You bit me,” he states, eyes flicking to yours, back to normal.

Then a dark laugh rumbles from his chest as one hand grips your jaw, the other thumbing your upper lip away from your teeth, “how adorable.” The pad of the digit runs beneath the blunt edge of your canine, pressing against the enamelled bone, “what were you expecting to do with these?”

You tremble beneath him, the true power imbalance dawning on you. His teeth broke your skin by grazing it, while he’s pressing against your own canine without so much of an ounce of pain showing.

I can imagine how your skin would come apart beneath my teeth.

Before you can manage anything he’s pressing his face into the crook of your neck, scenting you. He pulls back, nostrils flaring.

“You’re in heat.”

“I’m not an animal,” you breathe, a hot flare of indignation flushing your skin. Despite the denial, warmth envelops your body, settling deeper in the pit of your belly. “It just happens sometimes,” you hiss, hot embarrassment flushing your cheeks. “It’s not something I can help.”

“I can.”

“No.”

He tilts his head, lips curving into a malevolent grin, “you’re aroused. That’s what a husband is for.” Your breath hitches at his implication. “You aren’t my husband.”

“Not yet. But you’re still mine.”

“I am not.” His thumb brushes against the soft skin of your neck and you flinch, feeling the sting his canines left. “Maybe to you. But you’re surrounded by my kind. They’ll understand my mark.” Your eyes widen, “you can’t do that,” you breathe, “you can’t just lay claim to any human you want.”

He leans closer and you press back into the bed, “what’s stopping me?” The words brush over your mouth and you shiver.

You’re aware of the shadows thrumming around the bed, how his powerful arms are caging you in, but it’s taken you a while to realise there’s something hard poking into your middle. You squirm beneath him, trying to wriggle out of his dominating hold. “I said: what’s stopping me?” He growls, hand fisting in your hair as he yanks you upward, his mouth grazing leisurely along the lifeline in your throat.

A whimper claws its way up your throat and he laughs at the sound, canines searching for their earlier mark. “That’s right,” he purrs, lapping once over the scratches before he lines his teeth up, preparing to bite down, “nothing.” His fangs sink into your skin and you don’t even have enough breath to scream.

His shadows loosen and your hands instantly fly to his hair, nails raking over his scalp. He doesn’t let up and you grasp onto him desperately, clawing for something to grip, to tie yourself to for some form of safety. You go lightheaded as he feeds.

The myths you’ve heard about their drinking habits are false. In the tales they don’t leave a drop behind, needing every ounce to sustain themselves. For Azriel, it’s a display of decadence. He doesn’t need every drop. He’s drinking you up for his own enjoyment. You aren’t a necessity, or even a luxury; you’re a gluttonous indulgence.

Blood trails hot paths down your neck, sloping over your collar bone, trailing between your breasts as the liquid flows down your body. It spills over your back, saturating the bed with sanguine flavour. Then he pulls back, licking over the bite mark to heal it. You receive a metallic zap, and you’re sealed. Fresh as ever.

He looks down at you, soaking in your look of shock as he releases your hair, a blood-red slash instead of a grin. It drips from his lips, weighted droplets splashing on your chest, staining the silk night clothes. “My side is fulfilled,” he drawls. Your vision swims, fingers releasing their grasp on his soft hair, brushing over his shoulders before falling at your middle.

You manage a few shaky pants before he’s lowering his mouth, a surprised whimper being stolen from your lips as he settles over you. The blood mixes with his taste, tongue sliding over yours as his canines inadvertently slice up the inside of your lips. You lie there, passive, still very much in shock.

With the little strength you have left, you bite down on his tongue. Blood - not yours, this time - fills your mouth, gushing from the wound you’ve made. His eyes snap open angrily, hands brutally digging into your shoulders as he shoves away from you. Fury dances in his charcoal eyes before it’s smothered.

“If I’m going to choke on anyone’s tongue,” you hiss, words dripping with venom, “it’ll be yours. Not mine.”

Taglist: @myheartfollower

#demon! Azriel #acotar #dark! Azriel #Azriel smut #acotar au #azriel acotar #shadowsinger #Teeth and Talons

467 notes · View notes

undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

Text

Old dog, new tricks - Kaz Brekker x Reader

SUMMARY: Looking for someone to give you a quote on a stolen painting, you find yourself reaching out to a middle-man called Dirtyhands or the Bastard of the Barrel. Little do you know, you've met him before. A long, long time ago...

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.7k

It's pouring in Ketterdam. Black clouds cover the sky, hanging so low it looks like the bell towers scrape them. Thunder rolls in the distance. Some say that rain is refreshing, that it cleanses body, mind and soul. Perhaps it does but not in Ketterdam - the rainwater only leaves pedestrians feeling dirtier as though the coal-coloured clouds tainted it. The air begins to smell in an odd way as if the water washes something foul before falling to the cobbled streets; something not quite alive that can’t seem to die. But perhaps those somber words are true and thunderstorms truly do cleanse. In that case, it isn’t some largely unknown flesh rotting away but the sins of the city and its people washing the streets before falling down the drain like many things do in Ketterdam.

Those who can, flee the streets into the warm confines of their homes. Hats, umbrellas, even newspapers - anything just to keep the dirty water out of their faces. Some of them would mutter a swear word between pants and grunts as they made haste to the nearest shelter. Those who can’t, however, do not seem any grumpier than they usually do. For them, it’s just another day of soaking in the black rainwater stained with the unspoken secrets of the citizens. Wrapping worn-out coats tighter around their famished bodies, they cuddle the cold, stone walls a little closer before letting out a tired sigh.

On days like this, bars and pubs earn their most delicious coin. If someone’s home is too far, a brewery is a great place to be with a good drink, a good game and tolerable food. Among the rather large group of workers, traders and unfortunate pedestrians is the most curious stranger. She stops for a moment to look above the heads, at the crow cast from iron hanging above the entrance. Dressed in a foundry worker's clothes and a patchy coat, she fits the landscape of Ketterdam like a glove. Soon, the stranger followers the other patrons inside.

Thunderstorm or not, the bar looks rather cosy and fashionable, considering its location and clientele. The standard was high enough to make the working class feel good about themselves instead of inadequate.

You squeeze through invigorated, already quite drunk, groups of people who have become friends the moment they accidentally sat at the same table. Some bump into you but they never apologize - hard to say where they can’t or won’t. Others, the sober and brighter ones, notice their pouches gone after some time when they go to make another bet. Furious, they throw their hands at the first miser their accusatory finger points to. Despite that, they do not see you, even if they do look. To all those poor bastards gambling and drinking their life away, you're nothing beyond a mirage dancing in the corner of their eye; a fleeting thought that you saw something but can't quite articulate the nature of the illusion. And just like the bar patrons, you, too, quickly dismiss the mare as a trick of the imagination. Just as soon as the thought of the phantom disappears, its place is taken by severely mundane things: a pint of beer, a frivolous smile of a scam artist, a suspiciously good streak of a cocky man.

By the bar sits a man with a top hat at his side. While all the other workers are busy losing their money, that one simply sits there with his back turned to the rest of the room. A bottom-up, empty glass is placed beside his hand. The man is waiting.

Sitting down on the stool next to him, you don’t let your eyes leave the prize. "You look like you've been around, good sir.” The stranger turns to look at you. A spark of amusement glistens in his eyes. His brow lifts ever so slightly, beckoning you to continue. “Tell me, where can I find a man called Bastard of the Barrel?"

He turns his whole body towards you, leaning his arm on the bar counter. "Boss is pretty busy these days, you know? Might not have the time or desire to see you."

You give him a flustered smile, trying to appear a little too stupid to be cunning. "I won't take too much of his time,” you reassure him quickly. “If you could please pass the message to him that I have a painting from the Greaves' collection. I'm looking for someone who can give me a quote."

"That Greaves' collection?” he repeats. His face momentarily lights up as he surely sees right through your facade. “I thought it was impenetrable."

"They say that about every prison, don't they? And yet the world is as it is."

The man stares at you for a moment, his fingers frantically tapping the counter. Clearly, you’ve got someone’s interest. But will it be enough?

"Quote or not, I think he'll be interested in this. Come on."

Without waiting for your response, he takes his top hat and leaves, walking past you towards a small staircase in the corner of the bar. You quickly follow in his footsteps, never getting too far from the man - you’re to appear as nothing more but his shadow.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a streak of darkness move like a plant’s leaf swaying gently when there is no breeze. Curious, you follow the disturbance to what seems to be its source - a young woman dressed in dark robes. Leaning against a wall, in the corner where the yellow light doesn’t quite reach where it should, she’s impossible to notice to anyone who doesn’t know what to look for. In that spare moment, she notices you too.

Having walked up the stairs, your guide knocks thrice on the door but doesn’t wait for an answer before opening them. There, in the small office littered with papers, you notice a face so familiar and yet strange you begin to question your own sanity. Could it be…?

It’s like staring at a winter landscape during a toasty, summer day - you know the fields in front of you are the same but at the same time, they will never be more different. His face is more serious than you remembered. Strong, sharp features accompany his light eyes to create a truly chilling demeanour of a seasoned man. Despite undoubtedly looking like a handsome, young man, a spectre of a boy he used to be lingers beneath his skin.

Feeling lost and shocked, you frantically tear the hood off your head. "Kaz?” you’re not sure whether you’re asking him or yourself. “Kaz Brekker?!"

His eyes widen momentarily. Before he knows it, Kaz jumps to his feet, having to lean against the desk because of his leg. He doesn’t seem any less surprised, although he does appear to be better at hiding it - at least on his face. "You sly old fox,” he says in a low voice. Something akin to a smirk curved a corner of his lips upwards. “You just won't die, will you?"

You can’t help but scoff. After all those years of wondering whether he’s even alive, you find him in a complete accident. "As much as I'd love to see you crying over me, I like being a nuisance a bit more."

"You know each other?" the man, whose name you still do not know, vaguely points between you and Kaz.

To your mutual, utmost surprise, the two of you answer simultaneously: "We used to." The shock seems to drown out the hint of nostalgia and regret in your voices.

“Right…” he nods slowly. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

And before you know it, the door shuts and it’s just you and him. On one hand, again, but on the other - for the very first time. The words used to dance in a merry-go-round inside your head. Painful, yet truthful. Yes, you used to know Kaz like no one else. It sounds, you realize, as though the last time you had met, it was a different world, a different lifetime. To some degree, it’s true.

“What are you doing in here?” Kaz asks curtly. You can’t help but find his tone angry, almost accusatory. A strand of his hair falls on his face.

Unwilling to face the responsibility of years of silence, you settle for half-hearted jokes. “Your office or Ketterdam in general?”

“Both, preferably.”

Has he always been this incandescent or has longing simply white-washed him in your memories?

“Same as you it seems - work,” you say with a shrug. For a moment, the two of you stare at each other, unsure what to make of this unforeseen reunion. Then, you let out a tired sigh. If you have changed as little as you think so, he can definitely see right through you. “I won’t lie to you, Kaz, this isn’t a social call. I come here in business. I stole a canvas from Jurgen Greaves’ private collection and I’m looking for someone who can give me a quote.”

Kaz clenches his jaw. His blue eyes stare into you, maybe through you, as he clearly ponders something. Before continuing, he sits down. “I know an art dealer who might be interested. But first, you’re going to tell me everything.” Do not be mistaken - it’s an order, not a request. Truthfully, he got out of the habit of asking and pleading.

"It's a long story and a lot less interesting than I'd like to admit."

"We've all night,” he states. Not letting his gaze falter, Kaz gestures to the chair across from him. He still doesn’t take no for an answer.

He’s absolutely furious but only partially at you. It’s mostly his lack of understanding that gets on his nerves - the girl he remembered, a skilled and beautiful woman now, could have anything she wanted if she only asked. So why would you choose this path? With pearls and servants within arms reach, what are you doing in the Barrel, among murderers and liars? The surname of Greaves' resounds in his head, only fuelling his frustration: not only did Ketterdam dare to taint you, but you've also made good friends with that black stain of filth.

His chest clenches and Kaz feels disgusted for a moment. The parasite of corruption has nested under your skin, spewing its venom into your veins.

“Oh, don’t make me blush.” Although your dismissal is nothing beyond a jest, you still sit in the appointed chair. Maybe you want answers too, after all.

Still staring at you with that stern, cold gaze of his, Kaz sits back in his chair, clearly unwilling to end this conversation anytime soon.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker fanfiction #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker fanfic #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone fanfiction #six of crows #six of crows fanfiction #six of crows imagine #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x you

485 notes · View notes

heartfullofleeches · 5 months

Note

Cholly and Jessica rabbit darling 🙏🙏 maybe a blurb?

Toon Yan + G.N "Jessica Rabbit" Singer Darling Blurb

There's a certain bar in town.

The walls haven't received a fresh coat of paint since opening day and the drinks are piss poor at best yet lines wrapped around the block on slow days and patrons regularly fought for their spot below the already crowded stage. The old girl had a trick up its sleeve - a star act who stole bated breathes with once glance and captured lonely hearts with first hymn. A singer with the grace of an angel plucked from the heavens above and the lure of those below. How such a place came to employ a prized gem like them was a mystery, but so long as they were under their roof - seats were packed and business was booming.

With their charm, it was only a matter of time before suitors came rolling in. The love letters and gifts were sweet for a time, but a silent rejection just wasn't enough for those trapped under their spell. Fans threw themselves at the poor thing every chance they received - ambushing them outside their dressing room or on walks home and even climbing on stage in the middle of their performance on a few occasions. The singer was a professional in letting down their admirers gently, but everyone has their limits and when someone couldn't take the hint-

"I'm flattered, truly, but I already have someone waiting for me at home. They get terribly worried if I'm not home soon at this hour."

Their claims were true - in a way. In the past, all that waited for them was an empty bed and a tv, but through countless hours of watching old cartoons - it seemed there was always someone watching them back. It'd definitely put a dent in their tips if word spread far, but they had to get it out the new out their at some point. Besides, if anybody knew, they certainly kept their mouths shut to the press. In reality, their relationship wasn't as hidden as they portrayed. If one paid close attention to the loudest cheers in the crowd, they might piece two and two together with the voice that follows them home.

"Another amazing performance, Doll. I don't know how you manage to do it, but it's like a breath of fresh air everytime you get up on that stage."

"Oh, stop. You know I wouldn't be anywhere without the support of my fans and a certain little troublemaker."

"Well, I'd say that someone is a pretty lucky person. Would'a brought a fruit basket to go with those flowers I left in your dressing room, but honestly all the ones I've eaten recently have tasted a little bitter - cause I've got the sweetest peach on my arm right now."

"You're terrible!"

Many questioned why the singer choose who they did. Nobody ever got a good look at them upfront, but even from afar the difference were stark. The singer was taller than their partner even without heels, not to mention their strange tone of voice and need to throw a joke into almost every conversation. What on earth would someone as elegant as them want with a creature like that. The answer was quite simple.

"They make me laugh."

The answer might seem a little lackluster, but in a time and city like this, you'll fine a big of laughter does the soul good. There was more to it than that. Their partner made them feel safe and secure. They knew when to cut the theatrics and truly care for their love in moments of need. On top of that, the singer hadn't ran into any issues with crazy fans since their relationship began. They assumed they were deterred by the fact of them having a lover and while some were - majority weren't. They poured all their time and money into getting their attention, and they chose some random person for what - a laugh? There must be more- More than the laughter or cheap comfort. They could provide all that and then some. If anyone decided to let their anger get the better of them and confronted the singer's lover they'd gladly tell them.

"You wanna know why they choose me over you and the rest of the chumps that fawn over a taken person? You reeeeeally wanna know why Y/n picked me? Haha!... - that's easy. You can beat me, shoot me, stab me and I'll be just fine, but all it takes for you is one little cut and you're gone for good. And you'll never guess what I have in my other hand...just like all the others... If ya do - might even give you a five seconds head start."

#yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere #yandere x you #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #yandere x reader #yandere blurb #Toon Yan #yandere drabble #Cholly my oc #tw yandere

309 notes · View notes

aniharas · 3 months

Text

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯

pairing: anakin skywalker x jedi!fem!reader

summary: in the soul-shattering aftermath of geonosis, anakin finds solace in forbidden affection, risking everything for a stolen moment under the moonlight.

warnings: angst, ptsd, trauma, phantom pains. anakin just needs a hug.

wc: 4k+ oneshot

a/n: this is mainly written from anakin's pov and detailing his thoughts. i was just craving an angst fest don't mind me. likes and reblogs deeply appreciated :) inbox is open! enjoy <3

The light-polluted nights of Coruscant were not very kind to the Chosen One.

It was becoming a ritual: stirring at the latest hour in a sweat in the night. Almost an hourly occurrence. Poor Anakin would cry out, reaching for the ghost of an arm that was no longer there. The memories of the dreadful incident came around often like an old acquaintance, one who didn't quite get the hint that their presence was not wanted.

The terrors were definitely unwanted. Each nightmare that plagued his mind, almost every waking moment, every phantom pain was a painstaking reminder of his own incompetence. He was too weak, too blind to stop what happened. The flash of the red saber. The brief, agonizing, piercing hot sensation in his right arm followed by a sharp breeze. The unmistakable smell of his own charred flesh. The events of Geonosis were far too grisly to forget. The monstrous nature of his failure grasped and invaded his mind with its tendrils, ensuring nothing but pain as it threatened to pull him down under.

What made matters worse was the useless words of the Jedi Council when he sought their advice. Anakin nearly trudged out of the Council Room in laughter. Did they know how ridiculous they sounded? Firstly, he couldn't confide in anyone or simply desire their comfort. Secondly, his own limbs were considered part of things that he couldn't stay attached to, and the young Jedi found that piece of grim advice hilarious. He wondered if their powers with the Force and their lightsabers were the only reason that they were respected.

The cybernetic arm that he was given only did so much. It functioned like a normal arm and hand; it simulated the sense of touch. It was a piece of technology revered by many and saved those who used it. Whenever he retired to his quarters, he would simply stare at it, desperately hoping that it would complete him, hoping that the many credits invested into his new limb would save his soul from the relentless torment that lurked whenever the sun when down.

It was never the same. How could it ever be the same? Despite the fact that Dooku had severed his right arm, Anakin felt like he had broken his whole body and spirit. One would describe his state as one of constant grieving, for his arm, for himself. He dreaded training, missions, meditating. Eating seemed to be a monumental chore for the boy who was destined to save the galaxy.

His body was at a disconnect with his own mind, and no amount of tinkering or relentless practice with the replacement would help. It was like everyone else was above ground, moving at a normal pace, and he was stuck at the bottom of the ocean, unable to control the chaos of the water around him.

He had hoped that the nightly perils would cease in their frequency with time. As the years passed, his hope diminished, at the very least wishing that he could get used to the feeling.

On another lonely, sleepless night, Anakin had woken from phantom pain. Defeated, he slid himself off the edge of his bed, letting his body slump to the floor. He was the phrase 'human wreck' incarnate, his now grown-out hair askew; sweat and tears mingling as they slid down his face and neck; the pale, vein-ridden skin of his half-bare body being proof of his negligence towards himself. It was only on occasion that he could sleep alongside the moon, with no troubling thoughts to bother him. The rest of those nights were akin to psychological torture.

"Maybe it was karma for all the times I used the Force to extract a confession from somebody. Is that what that felt like?" he said to himself.

At times, he liked to pause as if there was someone there who would respond.

He wanted a response, longed for someone to just be there. Someone could sit across from him and say that his pain was superficial, that he was being overdramatic, and Anakin would still be grateful for the words. Intimate touch was constantly on his mind; not the kind of touch that led to something amorous, but the kind that could leave his battle-torn skin covered in goosebumps, the kind that would make him hyper-aware of every inch of his body.

He brushed his human fingers over the forearm of his replacement, wanting to know if there was some way he could make himself feel that intimacy. His desperation to simply feel was slowly driving him mad, and he once again let himself lose to his rage. A tear seemed to poetically slip down Anakin's cheek as his sweat-ridden fingers fumbled around with the latches, dislodging his mechno-arm and flinging it towards his wall with enough strength he could muster. A pained grunt escaped his lips.

As it slammed against the wall, it made a loud, yet unsatisfying 'thud'. Some of the casing popped off, the wires and inner mechanisms becoming exposed as it fell unceremoniously to the floor. The emotional toll and the sudden action it wrought had left Anakin out of breath. His glossy eyes trailed from the wreckage down to the emptiness where it should have been, and at that moment, he felt truly pathetic. He desperately wanted to blame anything else, but it seemed that with every obstacle, he only had himself to blame. Did he truly deserve this? He started to believe so.

It was then that his ears picked up a soft knock at his door. Anakin had shot up from his seat on the floor, hurrying over to retrieve his arm and fix it back into place. Disoriented from the absence of sleep, he managed to trudge his way to his door, carefully watching his own feet so he wouldn't stumble. Almost like a child.

When he opened the door, the last thing he expected was to see her. Why was she even here this late at night? She didn't even live in this part of the Knights' Billet. Had one of the masters sent her? Her expression and her body language were timid, seemingly afraid to cross the line; but her ever-so-captivating eyes shone with curiosity. Anakin caught those eyes trying to sneak a glance behind him, tilting his head as he made himself comfortable leaning against his doorway.

"Did someone send you? Tell them I'm not in the mood," he said rather curtly without another glance, taking a step back as he moved to close the door. He was growing exhausted with how the Jedi expected so much of him but didn't even respect him.

Her hand seemed to spring out to hold the door open in retaliation. He was growing tired of the antics, ready to glare her down with daggers, until he saw something different in the girl. Her stance was firm as she held open the door. He saw that her eyes held a brewing mix of resolve and desperation as if silently pleading for him to hear her out.

"I was walking by, and I heard a noise. Are you okay?"

Time seemed to stop as she voiced her concern, leaving Anakin breathless once again. There was an undeniable pang in his heart, threatening to set loose what had been building up inside of him. Any other day, he would've brushed her off and forced the door shut without a care in the world. She was jeopardizing her place in the Jedi Order, and his as well. How could she afford to be so careless?

So careless about her duties…but she cared about him.

Struggling to voice his answer, he found himself nearly paralyzed with uncertainty, not knowing how to proceed. The mere act of them meeting this late at night had already broken so many rules...but was he willing to sacrifice some rules to save his own sanity? He saw a look of pity flash over her eyes, and he stayed frozen as she quietly shuffled in, closing the door behind her in a similar matter.

Anakin was sure about the fact that he needed someone to confide in, to share his agony, to comfort his long-tortured soul. It was only until she had uttered her first words to him that night that it dawned on him: she would see him as weak, and not the Chosen One. The dichotomy of his needs and fears clashed about in his brain. He needed a companion, but he was afraid of losing her approval, anyone's approval. Everyone's approval.

"What's wrong, Anakin?"

Her voice had cut through the growing torment of his thoughts, leaving it silent, those three words alone threatening to unravel him. He avoided the piercing gaze that was threatening to see right through him.

"Just insomnia," he muttered.

When his eyes returned to her, he immediately knew that his answer wasn't good enough. Who was he kidding? He realized that he hadn't even bothered to look presentable, hair messy and skin glistening with sweat. As if to mock his own thoughts, a gust of air blew in from his conditioning unit, making the tear streaks down his face feel like they were freezing. He watched her carefully as her eyes examined these very things, a flush gracing her cheeks as she briefly glanced at his bare chest. The faint glow of the stars pouring in from the window only seemed to accentuate it, illuminating her skin. She was pretty.

The very thought angered him. Why did beauty distract him so in such a vulnerable moment of his life? It was a weakness he was not proud of, not only because it represented what he could not have, but what he struggled to be himself. Every rule in his life seemed like it was set in place to keep him from having beauty, being beautiful. He couldn't help but break those rules as his eyes raked over her figure. He saw how her hair cascaded down to delicately frame her face, skin that was once covered modestly by Jedi robes, eyes that seemed to tantalize him even if her intentions meant otherwise.

Would it be so terrible if he indulged in these desires in his moment of need?

Anakin shook his head to his own thoughts, causing her to tilt hers in confusion. Of course, it would be terrible, but why was it terrible in the first place? He was suffering, feeling pathetic with his appearance and in his mind. It was not terrible to need someone, but why was guilt beginning to consume these selfish desires? Maybe it was terrible to need her. He barely knew her, and she took the same vows as he did.

"I understand," she whispered, seeming rather awkward and sheepish compared to before. She avoided his gaze as she turned her back on him. As she began to reach for the doorknob, Anakin was surprised to see that she hesitated. Was it too hopeful to think that she felt the same? He called out for her, more despairingly than he intended to.

"Wait, I..." He hesitated, not sure if he wanted to take the plunge. It would be the start of a slippery slope he couldn't hope to dig her or himself out of. He knew that if he tried, it would be futile, so that must've been why he had the nagging feeling that he didn't even want out.

"I need you here."

He watched closely as her brows furrowed and her grip on the doorknob tensed, immediately realizing that his request might have been too bold, to say the least. His gaze fell to the floor as a wave of humiliation washed over him. If she had run off at that moment, he would've understood. However, as he gathered the courage to look up once more, he saw that she had stood still, eyes continuing to prod him for a better explanation. Swallowing the ever-growing lump in his throat, he leaned against the wall of his dormitory as he tried to find the words that would lead him down the slope. If it meant that he could find peace for one night, one hour, or even one minute, so be it.

"I need you here because…I am cursed. I'm cursed with an affliction I can't ever hope to cure. I feel like I'm at war with myself, and it haunts me to my soul."

Anakin paused, subconsciously holding his breath, unsure if he wanted to continue. All of this was most likely too heavy to hear, especially since she barely knew him. Did she care?

At that moment, as if to answer his silent query, she stepped forward and placed herself in front of him, standing so close he felt the warmth of her body. The scent of her freshly-washed hair polluted his senses, leaving him feeling melancholy. He watched in a trance as her brows furrowed in worry, tentatively lifting up her hand. Her fingers gently prodded at his cybernetic, outlining the broken casing. Once her curious eyes rose back up to meet his, there was a silent acknowledgment. Understanding. It gave him the push to keep going, to muster the strength to hold open the floodgates of his heart. He stopped holding his breath, his sorrowful gaze falling to the floor.

“I'm...completely lost. I've strayed so far from the path of the Jedi that I can no longer see it…and I am afraid I don't even want it. I'm constantly told that I shouldn't feel this way...that hurting is selfish, and that I should focus on the needs of others before my own, to live up to my prophecy," Anakin muttered, his tone turning bitter and his brows furrowing in anger at the last word.

"But how can I do that when I am disconnected from myself? When I don’t feel like the Chosen One? I don’t feel like anyone is choosing me.”

Anakin’s eyes traveled up her figure once more, her minuscule and simple movements making them glaze over with desperation. He found the way her shoulders gradually moved up and down with each breath captivating, the flutter of her lashes with each blink. He took her by the hand that was calmly tracing his forearm, enveloping it firmly in his. She watched him as her breath halted in suspense, her fingers seeming hesitant to move.

“I need you here, not because I expect you to fix me, but because I just need someone. Anyone. I need you to choose me, to touch me,” he whispered, his voice shaking as he watched her lace her fingers with his own. “Please, I need this...bittersweet taste of relief. I can't bear this alone anymore.”

After what seemed like an eternity of silence with their hands in each other’s, she let go, much to Anakin’s chagrin. However, she lifted her hand once again, gradually bringing her hand to his chest, laying it flat above his heart. The sensation sent waves of warmth across the bare skin of his chest, the rippling feeling leaving goosebumps in its wake. He was certain that she could feel the deafening pounding of his heart. A faint gasp left his lips as she began to slide her hand down to his abdomen, his muscles in that area tensing. He didn’t expect to feel this hyper-sensitive to someone’s touch.

She flinched a little at his reaction, causing her to stop her motions. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she looked up at him timidly.

“Is that okay?” she asked, her voice unsure, as if she was testing the waters.

Hearing her words, Anakin’s vision was obscured by his own tears…tears of relief. He savored the straining feeling in his chest and throat as he fought to hold back his sobs, thankful he was even feeling anything like that at all. A slow blink of his eyes betrayed him as a brief stream of hot tears slid down his cheeks, which she quickly wiped away with her free hand. She seemed rather flustered when that very action caused more tears to fall in succession, awkwardly wiping more tears as quickly as she should.

The act made Anakin chuckle briefly, nearly surprising himself with the sound. It seemed to surprise her too, in turn making her laugh along with him. Realizing that this warming feeling was contagious, they both began to erupt into giggling fits, ending with a hush from her, muttering something about “quiet hours”. Though it had seemed silly, Anakin had wished they never stopped.

Again, damn the Jedi with all their rules.

During her stay, they sat together at the foot of his bed as Anakin slowly began to unravel the darkness that had been plaguing him since Geonosis. They spoke in hushed murmurs, afraid that someone might find them together. Their conversation would cease at the mere sound of a distant footstep, the creak of the conditioning vent, and muffled voices from the other side of his dorm wall.

However, Anakin thought all the sneaking around to be worth it. Her presence and her conversation proved to help more than he could have hoped for. Soon enough, he was pleading for her to come back the next night. A shy expression overtook her features. Something around the lines of “You like me that much?” was uttered, and those very words ignited the beginning of an insatiable fire within him. Her wide, curious, and sparkling eyes continued to feed that very fire.

Anakin wasn’t too sure when he started to kiss her.

He wasn’t even aware of when they had closed so much distance between each other. However, her receptiveness pushed those questions far away, his thoughts taking form in the shape of her. A rush of emotions flooded through him, momentarily drowning out the misery that consumed his existence. In that singular, stolen moment, he felt a profound peace, something that he thought he might never experience again.

Every touch, every gentle brush against him sent electric currents coursing through his body. His senses were enveloped by her, reveling in the taste of her, the softness of her lips, the warmth of her breath mingling with his. Her hands began to clutch onto his frame desperately, her nails digging in and leaving red trails in their wake. The world around him slowly began to fade into insignificance, his focus narrowing to the raw sensation of being alive, of feeling something so intensely beautiful. For that fleeting moment, Anakin allowed himself to be consumed by this sinful, blissful indulgence of the present. It was a sanctuary from his own mind. After a lifetime of monochrome, he was overjoyed to feel anything at all. It was a bittersweet joy, knowing that this kiss was fleeting, and that it came at a heavy cost. As their lips reluctantly parted, Anakin’s mind was only filled with anticipation for the next. He watched her, his eyes filled with a mixture of reluctance and longing, as she began to pull away, her breath slightly ragged. A part of him wants to hold onto her desperately, to stop the inevitable departure. “Wait,” he called out, his voice feeble and vulnerable as he cautiously took her hand in his. “I-i…don’t want you to go. This is…it's everything to me.”

Anakin hated how desperate he sounded in his pleas, embarrassed at the state Geonosis had reduced him to. He almost despised the fact that he needed this…that the Chosen One needed someone else to feel so alive. But the way she flooded his mind was such a high for him, and he never wanted to come down.

“Please,” he begged, his voice nearly giving out as his eyes began to glisten. “I know the risk you’d be taking, but…one more night, please. The same time, tomorrow night. We can figure out what to do then.” He watched as her resolve wavered, noting the longing in her eyes. Anakin knew she felt a pull to him as well, it’s what caused her to come and investigate him in the first place. As she took a deep breath, his thoughts came to a halt, ensuring utter silence to hear what she had to say. “Okay, Skywalker. One more night. But…if we get caught, it’s on you,” she scolded, her arms crossing.

Anakin found her attitude endearing, answering her with a simple nod. Despite her playful nature, he understood the weight of her words. He leaned in, allowing his forehead to rest against hers, enjoying the subtle heat that radiated from her, a stark contrast to the cold room they were in. Pulling away with a lingering touch and a final gaze, they parted ways. As the door closed behind her, a profound sense of emptiness washed over Anakin. Her absence only made him feel the weight of his desperation. The taste of her still lingered on his lips, and it nearly made him want to throw the door open and chase after her. However, as much as he desired that, he couldn’t bring himself to.

As he returned to his empty bed, he decided he would just have to wait until she would return, his newly found moonlight, who had illuminated his dark and harrowing night, who had caused the waves in his heart to surge and swell.

He found comfort in the fact that the moon would always return to the sky.

As each night passed, their next clandestine meeting was what occupied Anakin’s thoughts. Every single moment until then felt like an eternity, nearly stretching his patience to the limit. His thoughts were never without her.

It was especially bad whenever he would sit in the Temple’s garden and meditate with Obi-Wan.

The afternoon after that encounter with her, Anakin and Obi-Wan sat cross-legged across from each other, eyes closed as they sought inner peace with the Force.

Anakin struggled to quiet his mind, to let go of the constant longing that plagued him. He tried focusing on his breathing, to sink into stillness, but the image of her under the moon invaded his every thought. Her face, her touch, her taste, her warmth–it consumed his mind like a raging wildfire.

As Obi-Wan searched through his own mind, he couldn’t help but sense a disturbance. A subtle ripple, a flicker of distraction that emanated from his young apprentice. His brows furrowed slightly as he tried to search for what was troubling Anakin.

After a while, Obi-Wan slowly opened his eyes, gaze fixed on his padawan as his gentle voice broke the silence. “Anakin, I sense something is weighing on your mind. Is everything alright?”

Anakin’s eyes remained closed, feeling sweat break out on the nape of his neck as he fought to maintain his composure. Why did Obi-Wan even bother asking? He was never going to tell his master, and he knew that. That didn’t prevent the feeling of guilt that started to accompany the flurry of his emotions. “I’m sorry, Master,” Anakin responded after a beat of silence. “I’m just…worried about my knighthood. That is all.”

Obi-Wan’s expression softened, his eyes taking on a knowing, yet understanding look. Of course, he knew his apprentice hiding something. He would consider himself a bad master otherwise. He could feel the turmoil radiating from Anakin, yet his desire to remain elusive. He wanted to respect his privacy, but his duty as a mentor compelled him to push further.

“Anakin, you know it is one of my many responsibilities to guide and support you, but I cannot do that if you hide things from me,” Obi-Wan said. “Whatever it is, just remember you don’t have to face it alone.”

With that, Anakin’s eyes fluttered open before meeting his master’s, a mixture of guilt and longing to open up to him. He hated that he was in an order where judgment and the potential consequences of desire prevented him from confiding in his mentor, his best friend, his brother.

“Believe me, master, I am more than thankful for your concern. But this…this is something I have to figure out on my own,” Anakin replied, his voice displaying a hint of vulnerability. “I will be fine.”

Obi-Wan sighed inwardly. He knew that part of becoming a Jedi involved navigating your own path, but he couldn’t help but feel like there were deeper issues at play. However, he was willing to let it go for the sake of supporting his apprentice.

“Very well, young Skywalker,” he conceded, a touch of sadness in his voice. He reached over to give a reaffirming pat to Anakin’s shoulder. “I trust that you find your way, as you always do. Don’t forget that I am here, whenever you need me.”

Anakin nodded, letting his eyes fall shut once more as he continued to “meditate”.

Still, his moonlight danced through his mind, and he could only think about how long it would be until he could see her shine again.

a/n: ao3 saw it first! inbox is open!!

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #angst #hurt/comfort #forbidden love #anakin skywalker x fem!reader #anakin skywalker needs a hug #anakin x reader #fem!reader #clone wars #he also needs therapy #and an arm

112 notes · View notes

doki-doki-imagines · 9 months

Text

author notes: something quick born from a chat with @mcdonaldsnumberone, I hope our chats will never come out LMAO. This idea come from an old gintama post I made years ago, but I love the idea.

tw: suggestive content but nothing happens

Michael Kaiser – Yellow Persian cat

-Michael doesn’t know how he found himself in this situation, he only knew that he finished training, showered and started to walk towards your house, happy to finally be able to see you after so long afar from each other.

-All of sudden everyone was taller than a building and- Was this fur?? Imagine his surprise when looking at himself on a shop mirror he saw a cat.

-“Incredible, I look good even as a cat”

-Sun was going to leave soon his place to the moon and kitty Kaiser decided to place himself in an empty card box left on the main street, then a drop, and then another one.

“Don’t tell me it’s starting to rain-“ A loud thunder, his pointy ears turn downward “Fuck” People starts to run left and right, nobody had pity on the poor pathetic left in a wet card box meow meow at their feet.

“Oh! Poor kitty come here.” An angelic voice that Michael can recognize between a million of others; yours.

-That’s how he found himself in your house, clean and dry, looking at you trying to cook for the both of you.

-“You know this is Michael's favorite food, he is my boyfriend, by the way, I suppose you’ll meet him soon.” You put both your food on the table, finally sitting down. The melancholic undertone isn’t missed by your boyfriend that starts to rub his face toward yours.

“You are so nice, meanwhile he is the bane of my existence-” The yellow cat stop his action, if you listened closely you could hear a huff coming out his little mouth “but I miss him so much, God.” You put your face in your hands, fork still inside the plate and a loud sniff escapes your mouth.

“I still didn’t hear him today, maybe he got caught in between his fangirls, who knows.” You let out a fake giggle, the one Michael is used to hearing when you want to break off tension.

But nothing right now could pull together his broken heart.

“I know he isn’t that dumb-“ and Michael can’t stop weighting “that” “but I get worried you know? Even more when you are afar for this long” you fill a bowl with water that you position right after the plate filled with food for the kitty “Ahh! I’m so dumb! Me and my insecurities, fuck me!” Kitty Michael can only look at you with wide eyes, his tongue poking out licking slowly some water from the bowl.

-Soon going through this sad parenthesis kitty Kaiser didn’t mind his life as a cat after all, not only he found new topics that you absolutely need to discuss when he’d go back to normal, but he could enter the bathroom when you are showering!

“What are you doing here? Are you curious? Or you are just a pervert kitty?” You let out a giggle, a real one this time, and Michael felt like melting and becoming one with the floor of your bathroom.

You, all wet and happy.

He is a pervert in the soul.

-Plus the biscuit making, ohhh the feeling of your chest and ass, your soft tummy under his paws, and not a single slap behind his neck.

-And your heart thrumming the perfect lullaby to make him fall asleep.

-“M-MICHAEL?” What a terrible way to be woken up.

“Why are you screaming so early in the mor-“

“Then why are you naked!?” Seems like the curse was temporary after all.

“Well, well, the bane of our existence is here to teach you something.”

“Mh?” You widen your eyes, his strong arms at either side of your head lifting him on top of you in all his naked glory.

“This guy here has eyes only for you.” It’s a quick kiss, one that follows many deeper ones “I missed you too liebe.” You don’t have to reply back with sass, you just hold him closer to you.

-You’ll have time later to tease him about his tail swinging left and right like a happy pup; seems like the curse didn’t totally wear off…

Kenyu Yukimiya – Salt&pepper giant Schnauzer

-Look, it’s still hard to understand what is going on, but for sure waking up with Otoya at your doorstep with a giant dog wasn’t something you were expecting.

-“Take him just for today, I think you’d get along, plus I’ve seen today it’s your free day so you have no excuses” He talks as fast as possible, some words lost but one thing is sure; you had to take care of this big boy.

-You look at him, he looks at you, up and down, like he is judging your pajamas (that you honestly find wonderful) and you both let out a sigh; seems like you are on the same wavelength.

-Honestly, you thought having to deal with such a big dog would have been a mess, but he is so well behaved?? You notice he probably can’t see well, so you guide him a little trying to make him memorize your house.

-“Otoya called you Yuki, right? My boyfriend has a similar surname but you are cuter!” The dog that was previously swagging his tail with tongue poking out just stopped, still as a stone, almost…menacing? But you don’t get bothered too much, patting his head and calling him good boy.

-He follows you like a shadow, never leaving your side and looking at you with eyes full of love, they got aggressive when during a walk to the park some guys tried to hit on you, he even growled at them! But luckily you sent them off quickly and went on with your walk.

-Evening arrived fast and after preparing dinner for both of you, going to the sofa to watch a film seemed the best idea to end the day.

-“My God, Bret is the hottest human ever-“ “I’d gladly wash my laundry on his abs” “You can’t understand how much I’d pay to be in the backstage with him.” “He could treat me as his bad partner any time he wants” you sing sang. Not exactly, after all, you were just typing to a friend your recent thoughts about this actor.

But Yuki is counting. Noticing every single squeak, every single smirk. He doesn’t show it, he just waits patiently, head laying on your right leg for the right moment to strike.

-You both fall asleep on the sofa, film long forgotten a soft cover on both your bodies.

-You are the first to wake up, and it was hard not to scream at the sight in front of you. Your boyfriend, Kenyu, is laying on top of you, his long brown curls falling on your chest, his breath calm, still sleeping peacefully ah, he is also butt naked.

-And are these dog ears?? And that tail? Is it possible that-

“Morning love.”

-You feel a chill running down your spine. That voice had never brought good news.

-”Wanna tell me more about that Bret actor you like so much.” The shiver gets more intense as he slides up on your body, his face now at the same level as yours.

“You know what, don’t say anything-“ he taps his forefinger on your lips “I’ll make sure you’ll be only able to babble my name after I’m done with you.”

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk imagines #blue lock imagines #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #yukimiya kenyu #yukimiya kenyu x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x you #Otoya body is still missing btw LMAO #I had a ton of pgs in mind so if you wanna request wanna feel free to do it

309 notes · View notes

tomsretales · 9 months

Text

Retales Retold - Day Ten

-A man hands me a wad of cash. Drugs fall out from between the bills. It was a single dose pack of ibuprofen, but regardless, I believe I was just involved in a drug deal.

-A little girl ran around the front of the store shouting “Mama Mia!” I cannot tell if her life has been heavily influenced by ABBA or Mario. Either way, she made me proud.

-A man walked away with his bag, left the store, returned to my register, informed me that he did not need the bag, removed his items, gave me the bag, and left again.

-I look down. I look back up. A man appeared silently, wearing what can only be described as black cargo scrubs. Who is he.

-Cargo scrubs man purchases lighters, toilet paper, knives, a trash can, and a rug. I want to follow him to find out more, but realistically, I will be seeing him in the news after whatever he is planning.

-A girl tried to purchase a shirt, but the tag had fallen off. She went to get another shirt that I could scan to get the price. She brings back a tag. I assume she had found the tag that had fallen off. I assumed wrong. She had torn the tag off of another shirt, thus beginning the cycle anew.

-I offered a girl an orange sticker. She politely asked for the yellow one instead. I told her she could have both. I have never seen such unadulterated joy in this world.

-A boy in his mid-teens came through my line, attempting to purchase an emergency contraceptive. He found out he did not have enough cash on hand. He left the store, returned with a stack of quarters, and was able to complete the transaction. I am glad he had a plan b.

-I handed a baby a sticker. Filled with determination, the baby attempted to place the sticker directly on their mother’s nose. The mother pointed out the paper had not been removed and peeled it off for the child. The baby then looked intently at the sticker, intently at their mother’s nose, and resumed their earlier endeavors. They were successful.

-A separate old man purchased pantyhose, a toilet brush, nail polish, and Minions wrapping paper. Happy birthday to some poor, unfortunate soul out there.

-A woman’s purchase rang up at just above $20. She pulled out a stack of cash and counted off $45 of it. She then put it back in her purse and paid with her card. I respect her style.

-This is the latest shift I have had. Target after dark is a very different experience. The silence echoes. The lights glow and fade. The customers all seem dead inside. The transformation is both sudden and gradual. I am mystified.

-I overhear a burly man on the phone as he is buying chips and drinks. “It’s the $11,000 one in the back of the room,” he tells his accomplice. “We’re going to need to retrieve it.” I am left with the obvious assumption that he is on the requisite pre-jewel heist snack run.

-I gave a baby the first sticker they had ever seen in their life. I feel so honored to have introduced this happiness into their life.

-A woman waits through my line, and approaches me, telling me she has no items but only a question. I assume this is because guest services is abandoned at this point. Once more, I prove the axiom of assuming and asses. “Are you Tom? Grennell? With the posts?” I quietly admit it. “I just wanted to say that you’re hilarious, I love your posts, and you should keep writing!” This woman has approached me just to compliment me. I am now certain these posts have been a good thing. I am now elated, flattered, and only slightly anxious. Thank you for waiting next to loud girls on FaceTime for this purpose, ma’am.

-An eerie voice echoes over the loudspeaker, counting down the last fifteen minutes before the store closes. When the ten-minute warning airs, a loud humming surrounds the store. I can only assume a UFO was making a landing. It is the only way to explain so much about this store.

#target retales #retales retold

285 notes · View notes

gravitycavity · 3 months

Text

Sunshine (Pomni x Ragatha) Chapter 1 - Put On a Happy Face

[Click here to read from the beginning on AO3!]

Cover art by @blukiar

“You’re supposed to $%#&ing smile, Pomni!” Zooble's hoarse scream reverberated throughout the big top. “Are you stupid?! We can’t finish the new intro if you aren’t @#$%ing smiling!”

“Leave. Me. Alone!” Pomni, denied the catharsis of slinging her sailor’s mouth, expressed her disdain with her middle fingers instead. She only ended up seething harder, however, when a pair of other-dimensional censor bars appeared to obscure the rude gestures.

“Oh! So that’s how you want to play it, Puffball?” Zooble narrowed her eyes, limping toward the jester with as much aggression as their awkwardly-constructed body would allow — which, for the record, wasn’t very much.

Ragatha had seen enough. “Relax!” She raised her voice, swooping vigilantly between the bickering belligerents. “Both of you!”

Gangle, moping off to the side, sniveled pitifully. In all the commotion, her comedy mask had been shattered. For the second time. This morning. “Guys…! Please, just stop fighting…”

Jax crossed his legs, reclining smartly against Kinger’s impenetrable pillow fort. “Can it, crybaby. This is the best entertainment we’ve had in years!” He flicked a piece of popcorn into the air and caught it in his mouth. Meanwhile, a vibrating Kinger poked his eyes out from between two pillows, saying nothing and everything at the same time.

Ragatha’s good-natured attempts to keep the peace were all for naught. She flinched out of the way of Zooble’s punch — but before the strike could connect, a floating boxing bell materialized out of nowhere, piercing the air with a shrill shriek.

“Now, now! There’s no need for that!” Caine’s wagging finger appeared beside the bell, followed shortly after by the rest of the entity. He lifted his tophat, and a cheesing Bubble gingerly drifted out.

“Naughty, naughty~” Bubble chomped his teeth.

Caine snapped his fingers, and an unseen force pushed Pomni and Zooble apart. “The Amazing Digital Circus — copyright 1996 C&A Incorporated, all rights reserved — is a magical, marvelous CD-Romp for all ages! Zany shenanigans and cartoon mischief I can abide, but outright violence? Strictly out of the question!”

With a grunt, Zooble spiked their arm against the floor. “What are we supposed to do, then!? We’re on take fifty-seven of your dumb@%$ theme song because poor little Pomni thinks she’s the main character of the universe!”

Pomni responded to that, but whatever she said, it was profane enough to be scrubbed out entirely.

“Yes, well…” Caine crossed his arms, steeped in careful thought. The last hour-and-a-half of unusable footage played back through his mismatched eyeballs in a matter of seconds. “It’s nothing we can’t fix in post.”

Zooble swiped their discarded arm off the ground and crammed it back into its empty socket. “Great. Then you can edit me in, too.” They stormed off, reciprocating Pomni’s earlier gesture. “Eat $@#%, sad sack.”

Jax sighed. “Aw, shucks. Right when things were getting good…”

“Uh…!” Caine skipped a beat. He swiveled toward the five circus members still gathered beneath the big top. “Well, then!” he elbowed his soap bubble companion, “Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us, Bubble! As for the rest of you, consider yourselves off the hook for the rest of the day — my treat! Take some personal time, get some sleep, and try your darndest not to dwell on the soul-crushing scale of eternity!”

“I have no soul!” Bubble turned upside-down. “So I don’t mind it one bit!”

“You and me both, old pal!” Caine’s laugh sounded forced and unnatural.

There was a pause. Gangle glanced around, then meekly raised her ribbony hand. “But what about—”

“Go on, now! I won’t take no for an answer!” the ringmaster stabbed the air with his cane, “I want you all in tip-top condition for tomorrow’s wacky adventure!”

🎪 🎪 🎪

It wasn’t long before everyone had gone their separate ways. Jax had slinked off to the digital carnival to terrorize the NPCs, Gangle had left a trail of teardrops all the way to the digital lake, and Kinger, as per usual, had just disappeared without anyone really noticing.

At last, Pomni was alone again. She curled her tear-stained face inward and filled her chest with three shaky breaths. She couldn’t hold it in anymore. Hands tightened into trembling fists, she threw her head toward the sky and let loose a long, ear-shattering shriek.

Why was this happening to her? What did she ever do to deserve this!? She was a person — a human being, for God’s sake — not some stupid, one-dimensional children’s character. How dare anyone expect her to just grin and bear it? She didn’t owe anything to anyone — not even one second of feigned emotion. As far as she was concerned, the moment she forced that goofy smile onto her face would be the moment she surrendered, and she would never, ever, in a million years—

“I’m always here if you need to talk. You haven’t forgotten, have you?”

Pomni flinched, wrenching away from the sudden voice. After the emotional hell she’d gone through during her first day, unexpected noises didn’t exactly put her at ease — nor did anything else in this deranged digital purgatory, for that matter.

“Ah! Sorry!” Ragatha covered her mouth. “I didn’t spook you too bad, did I?”

“You did, actually! Wh-What’s wrong with you?” Pomni gathered herself quickly. She didn’t dare to even look in the direction of the person who had just watched her childish tantrum. The moment she found her footing again, she stormed off like her very life depended on it. “Don’t just sneak up on people like that!”

Silently relenting, Ragatha stepped aside to let Pomni pass. She watched the pouting jester jingle and jangle with every step, stomping with boundless confidence in the completely wrong direction.

“Uh…” Ragatha tilted her head. “Pomni? Do you remember the way to your room?”

“Ugh! What do you care?” Pomni doubled her pace. “Mind your own business!”

Ragatha smirked. “Alright, I guess I’ll just head back to my room, then. Which, for the record…” She pointed behind herself, “…is that way.”

Pomni stared vacantly as Ragatha sauntered off. The doll had read her like a book. Locking herself in her room for days on end meant she still had no clue how to get around the tent — if she wanted to get back to her regularly-scheduled self-pity anytime soon, she would have to swallow whatever was left of her pride.

Pomni grumbled under her breath, fast-walking to catch up. “Hey! W-Wait!”

🎪 🎪 🎪

There was no ambient noise to dampen the tension; the dormitory hall’s plush carpet absorbed the sound of Pomni and Ragatha’s footsteps. Ragatha led, hands tucked politely below her waist, while Pomni trailed behind.

The complete, unbroken silence wasn’t exactly the most comfortable thing in the world, but it was preferable to whatever inane smalltalk would have filled it. That’s how Pomni saw things, at least.

In the time it had taken to walk here, she had managed to cool off a bit — and the unwavering quiet gave her plenty of mental space to reflect on the last few minutes.

She wasn’t sorry. Pomni didn’t care if Zooble hated her — she could hate them right back. Breaking bread with Jax was pointless; that creep preferred to provoke. Gangle was friendly, but to interact with her was to walk on eggshells, and Pomni lacked the patience. And Kinger? Was Kinger.

Arms crossed, Pomni looked up from her big, dumb clown shoes. Her gaze settled on the doll in front of her. Pomni despised everything about this place — but now that she was going through her laundry list of grievances, she had to admit: she had nothing on the redhead.

…What was her name? Ragatha…? She was by far the most mature of the circus’s captives. She was kind. Predictable. An island of calm in a stormy sea.

Pomni’s harsh features softened. Ragatha was the only character who had shown her the slightest shred of compassion since she’d arrived here. The realization weighed down her stomach with more than a few pangs of guilt. Ragatha, of all people, certainly wasn’t a deserving outlet for her angst.

Oh, no — nice going, you idiot. Ragatha was the one thing about this place keeping you anywhere close to sanity, and you’ve already repelled her by acting like a petulant child. She probably hates you now. You know that, right? Actually, it’s not ‘probably’. It’s ‘definitely’. That’s why she isn’t talking. That’s why this is so awkward. That’s why —

“So…what’s under your cap?”

Pomni stumbled. Had the wall not been there to grab onto, she absolutely would have fallen flat on her face.

Stabilizing herself, Pomni gawked up at Ragatha as if the doll had just beamed down from another planet. What’s under her cap? Did she hear that right? It was such an odd, out-of-the-blue question — but at least it had yanked her out of her head.

“I’m sorry?”

Ragatha bent down to Pomni’s eye level. “Your cap.” She said gently, resisting the urge to prod one of the little bells dangling from either end. “It comes off, doesn’t it?”

Pomni blinked. She hadn’t really given it any thought. In fact, until Ragatha had brought it up, she had forgotten that her ridiculous new form came with a hat at all. Doing nothing but hiding under the covers and sobbing for days on end had that effect.

With much bigger problems weighing on her mind, Pomni didn’t really care to check — but something about Ragatha’s expectant gaze possessed her anyway. Very carefully, she hooked her fingers beneath the golden rim. She felt a small amount of resistance as she pushed up, almost as if the headpiece were attached to her body through some kind of magnetic force.

With a just a little effort, though, it popped right off.

“…Huh.” Pomni held the striped cap in her hands. “Look at that.”

“Oh, goodness!” Ragatha tried and failed to suppress a squeal. She paid no mind to her question’s answer, too distracted by the worst hat hair anyone had ever seen. It was certainly a look; a chaotic mess of tangles, knots, and flyaways did as it pleased atop the jester’s capless crown.

“Hey! What gives?!” Pomni ducked her cap back onto her head. A few extra clumps of hair stuck out from underneath. “Why are you laughing?”

“I’m so sorry! Your hair is just…” Ragatha giggled. “Well, it’s a bit messy at the moment. But I like it!”

Pomni leered. “…Liar.”

“I’m not making fun of you! Honest!” Ragatha crossed her hands over her heart. “I love your hair, Pomni. It’s…”

“It’s what?!”

“It’s so cute!”

Pomni’s eyes grew two sizes. That was…not the answer she expected to hear. She didn’t know what to say — just that her face felt a lot warmer than before.

“Obviously, you could use a comb…or three. But who cares about that?” Ragatha’s hand drifted through her own thick, yarn-like locks. “You really lucked out, you know. I’d trade your hair for mine in a heartbeat.”

Despite everything, the smallest of half-smiles lit Pomni’s face.

“I, um…” Pomni took a deep breath. And then two more. Her whole body slumped closer to the floor. Try as she might to keep her personal pity party alive, Ragatha’s radiant energy made her forget her troubles, if only for a moment.

“…Why are you being so nice? And to me, of all people?”

Ragatha just shrugged. “Do I have a reason not to be?”

Pomni gripped her other arm, gaze flicking down the corridor. Her smile faded in the silence.

“Well, um, anyway…” Ragatha glanced at the door behind her — Pomni’s awkwardness was infectious. “You have your room key, right?”

Pomni’s heart skipped at the thought of having lost it, but eased at the feeling of cold metal in her pocket. She nodded.

Gently, Ragatha took the cartoonish key from Pomni’s hand. With a turn and a click, the way to the jester’s room was open.

Ragatha held the door, smiling warmly. “You look like you could use some space. Go enjoy some quality alone time, okay, new stuff?”

“O-Okay.” Pomni didn’t hesitate to do just that — until she did. “Um…” She peeked behind a door half-open. After the longest pause, a simple, stammered “thanks” was all she could manage to get out.

Her door clicked shut. And audibly locked.

[Next Chapter]

#pomni x ragatha #pomnitha #ragapom #jesterdoll #buttonblossom #ragatha x pomni #pomatha #tadc #tadc pomni #ragatha #the amazing digital circus #tadc sunshine #tadc fanfiction #sapphic #lesbian

93 notes · View notes

quibbs126 · 2 months

Text

So instead of more stylized Cookies, I drew that cacaolily redo yesterday (I just forgot about posting)

Anyways, so this is Night Rider. She’s replacing my old cacaolily kid, Snowdrop, because I thought I could do better (and frankly, Snowdrop didn’t have a personality outside of being a White Lily clone). So Snowdrop doesn’t exist anymore, and Night Rider replaces her

In any case, let’s get on to Night Rider herself

So basically, Night Rider here goes around Earthbread, seeking out and learning secret, ancient or forbidden knowledge/magic. She ultimately has good intentions in her research, she probably started by trying to look for a way to ultimately stop the Licorice Sea, or maybe to revive Pure Vanilla, but she can get carried away with her research and not think about the consequences of it (which I sort of tried to imply with the sketch, she’s trying to bring the Soul Jam to its fullest potential, but in the process awakening the Beasts). She’s been doing this for several decades and she really only visits her home sparingly; she’s gained a really poor sense of time and always thinks it’s been less time than it actually has

Outside of that, she’s a very cranky and antisocial person. Her decades of mostly isolated research have led her to view other Cookies as either not being able to appreciate the knowledge she yearns for, or that they ask dumb questions about her research. She respects and tolerates her father and the other Ancients (her mother disappeared when she was young, so she doesn’t really have a connection to her or opinions about her), even if she thinks they can fall into those categories. She can actually like people, and she can act like a decent person around them (or if she has to), but it’s pretty rare. She probably wasn’t always like this, it’s just something she built up over the years

Her research means she’s probably way ahead of all the other characters on the plot, like she’s known about the Beasts and faeries for years, but due to her general isolation and always looking for new knowledge, she’s woefully unknowing (that’s not the right word) of what’s going on in Earthbread right now. Like she doesn’t know Pure Vanilla’s back, her mother’s connection to Dark Enchantress, or even that her brother was banished in the first place

She likes her father well enough, she was mostly raised by him and she respects him, even if they value different things. She doesn’t see him as much due to her research, but she doesn’t see it as meaning she has any less connection to him. As said prior, since White Lily disappeared when she would have been young, she doesn’t really know her mother and isn’t sure what to think of her (though if she’s been to Faeriewood, she would have chosen to avoid White Lily’s coffin). Due to her nature of spending so much time away from home, she and Dark Choco barely know each other, but she thinks he’s fine enough. She thinks he’s just following in their father’s footsteps and being a good swordsman and prince back home, nothing out of the ordinary to note. She probably would have a reaction to knowing this isn’t the case

I’m also thinking she uses some sort of shadow magic, in part because of her research (and also because of her name)

I do kind of want to draw a younger version of Night Rider as well, before she started on her endless search for knowledge, since back then she was probably more normal

Can you tell I’ve thought way too much about her? Because I have

Anyways, let’s get on to other stuff

The name Night Rider comes from the night rider lily, since it’s a black flower

Night rider:

So if you can tell, she doesn’t look too much like her concept sketch. That’s because originally when I was making that, she was supposed to be a guy who was a knight that lived out in nature, or something like that. The original Night Rider concept was completely different. But then when I was listening to Unleash the Magic yesterday, it got me inspired to make this new version of Night Rider. If I ever bring that concept back, it’d probably be like her twin brother or something

Anyways, so I made her hair have gradients instead of streaks because I thought it worked better with her colors of red and black. Also Dark Choco sort of has that. Speaking of the red, it’s supposed to be because of the flower, even if the red doesn’t necessarily fit in with the rest of the family’s color scheme

Speaking of colors, my roommate told me she might have too many colors, which is honestly fair. She’s got black, red, purple and green in her design. It was originally going to be black red and purple, but then I wanted a pop of another color for her bag, so I added in the green. Maybe I’ll go back and tweak her colors more. If this becomes no longer applicable to her design, know that I changed it

I realize that her outfit may look a bit odd, as like some sort of bodysuit or whatever, but it was kind of just what came to my head. Maybe it’s some sort of special suit she got during her travels

Her design is probably simplistic, but it’s not necessarily bad. But I may want to tweak it a bit later on, we’ll see

But yeah, that’s Night Rider, hope you like her

#speaking of stylized cookies I kind of want to make the fankids in the stylized way as well #I specifically want to draw Night Rider and Vanilla Lily together #since they’ve got some issues and they’re both Lily kids #I just need an elderlily kid with issues to complete the trio #anyways #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #fankid #fanchild #dark cacao cookie #white lily cookie #cacaolily #cookie run oc #night rider cookie #snowdrop cookie #my ocs #my art

54 notes · View notes

swap-and-possessions · 1 year

Text

Takeovers Break the Soul

“It’s you who broke him,” Stan shouted at his younger step-brother.

“No. It’s you who last used his body. You’re the reason why he’s broken.” Harry shouted back.

“He was already broken beforehand. Now I know why you’re refraining from possessing him these past few days. It’s because you wanted me to be the last to possess dad before he breaks apart, so you can blame me.”

The two stepbrothers spat on each other with harsh words and accusations. They do not want to take the blame and assume the consequences. Behind them, their father and his eyes droned endlessly in the distance. He does not move an inch except to breathe. It wasn’t like this four months ago. Back then, it was Randy shouting at his sons. They were products of his failed marriages, and he couldn’t help but place his romantic frustrations on them. He didn’t assault them physically. But the verbal lashes and harsh expectations were enough to make a rough upbringing for the two brothers. He shouted at them for the smallest of mistakes and routinely embarrassed them by belittling their achievements. This happened for years under the guise of everyone’s eyes. Everyone saw Randy as a loving father who brought his sons to success. Stan was a star football athlete, while Harry garnered heaps of academic recognition.

Randy would soon earn his comeuppance when Harry learned how to astrally project his soul. He discovered it from reading an old tome in the library and didn’t actually expect it to work. Of course, his first set of actions was to get back at his father. He planned on using it to topple some of his stuff and scare him shitless. But due to his poor flight control, he accidentally phased into his dad and possessed his body. It didn’t last long since it was a new skill. However, he immediately taught Stan the skill.

For the following days, the step-brothers took turns possessing their abusive father. Taking over his body took a few minutes at the start. As they possessed him more and chipped his waking hours, the duration extended until they could take a day at most. They used his body to partake in fleshly acts with his son. For a 40-year-old, he maintained a top physique that was envied even among Stan’s teammates. Stan was a lot more touchy when he was in Randy’s body. He maneuvered his big hairy body to give intimate lovemaking to his stepbrother. As for Harry, he is a beast under Randy’s skin. The newfound enormity and power were enough to make him drunk. He’d topple Stan on the best and ram his massive dick, and he would not stop until he was utterly pleased.

Randy quickly noticed the frequent blackouts and the lack of libido over the passing weeks. It’s not the stress, and he's sure of it. It’s something else. The truth was revealed to him when he set up video cameras around the house. He learned that every time he lost consciousness, one of his sons was sleeping in their room. It was the same for every single one. He knew it was their fault somehow. The idea was cemented when he saw himself having sex with either Harry or Stan. Little did he know, Harry’s astral body was floating behind him. After that, they increased their possession of their father, leaving him with only six hours of waking moments at most. Randy tried to fight back, but his sons had grown too powerful to oppose them. Fighting was meaningless, and life as he knew it had ended. After four months of relentless possession, Randy was a husk. His mind or soul wasn’t broken or anything. It was because he simply gave up. He devolved into a plaything for them. While his sons argued about who broke him, he could’ve said that both were at fault. But he knew, deep inside, that it was he who made his sons that way. It was his fault in the end.

#Possession #Male Possession #Body Possession #Male Body Possession #Shorts

328 notes · View notes

thehwaynedame · 1 year

Text

Katsuki Doesn’t Dance

Words: 832

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, bad writing?

Disclaimer: I was watching wedding dance tutorials and this came to my head. I’m not getting married or anything, I just think they’re cute to watch.

Katsuki Bakugou doesn’t dance.

He’s told you this from the very beginning and has been adamant about it ever since. He first told you at a big gala to celebrate the new top charting heroes, both you and him stood to the side, watching old friends twirl each other about; they were smiling and laughing, having the time of their lives. You watched him from the corner of your eyes, watching how he lifted the expensive champagne to his lips, then, you watched the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in motion with his gulp. Despite his words, you could see the way his carmine irises shone with a sense of longing and loneliness —they followed the swaying forms of your friends and you couldn’t help but sigh, for you knew the idiot would never give in.

Eventually though, you settled into the fact that he wouldn’t —that neither of you would have that moment together. The dream of you both dancing to a song in the kitchen late at night was crushed by his stubbornness, and he’s just lucky that he managed to be an amazing partner without fulfilling that dream…

Besides, you’d never push him. You’d always been one to respect the boundaries that the blond set, obtaining the affection you needed from the way he held you close at night, or from the lengthy kiss he gave you every morning.

It was more than enough, for you didn’t need a dance to know how much Katsuki Bakugou loves you, he shows you in his own ways that he does.

Though, you had to admit —you were pretty giddy to learn that Mitsuki, your soon to be mother-in-law and wedding planner had made the first dance mandatory. You really couldn’t help it, the fantasies of your wedding running through your head more than ever now, thanks to the news that you’d finally get that one romantic dance with the grumpy man that you adore.

You never expected it to happen, no matter how much you had fantasized about it, you had never came to this conclusion.

For now you stood before all your family and friends with the lights dimmed, your now husband standing before you. His hand awaited yours, calloused and rough, but gentle in the way it had grasped yours, his expression shocking you to the core —for it was far from his usual scowl.

His face isn’t scrunched up, his brows lifted and relaxed. He was actually smiling —barely, but you had the pleasure of being close enough to see a dimple form from the way his lips had curved. He hadn’t scowled for most of the day, only towards the both of your friends, who were teasing him relentlessly about how weird he looked up on the altar. But the look he was giving you now was causing your poor heart to palpitate out of your chest… His eyes that spoke volumes of his soul had softened, nothing but complete adoration in them as he pulled you closer to him, his other hand resting on your waist before giving it a squeeze.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Where’s that gremlin look of yours?” You try to joke, ignoring the way a shiver ran up your spine from the way his thumb massaged the finger where your wedding ring now rested snugly. “Am I not allowed to look at my wife? I’ve only been waiting for this day since we kissed at our graduation.” He answered, the low music beginning before you could respond, he does as you both had practiced, guiding you to spin, before pulling you back to him. “I simply take pride in being able to read your expressions —and the one you made just then…” You tried but he was quick to cut you off, the warmth of his forehead making contact with yours making you chuckle.

Your eyes meet and you feel yourself melting.

“Stop thinking, soak in the moment.” He instructs, and judging by the way he completely lost himself in you, keeping you close the rest of the dance, you knew he certainly had. It reminded you of just how lucky you were —to love someone like Katsuki Bakugo, to have him love you in return. It reminded you that now you didn’t have to worry about silly little dances, for none would beat the feelings you felt that evening, in the arms of your sappier than usual husband.

Even as time would pass on, and the late night swaying to music in your home would become normal —you’d still remember that night and cherish it. You’d do so just as much as your husband does, ensuring each other a dance every gala and even more so in your home, where you’d continue to laugh together under the lights of the kitchen every time he dipped you, where the both of you would forever to continue melting into each other’s kiss.

Because, you know, Katsuki Bakugou doesn’t dance…

#bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki fluff #husband katsuki x reader #wife reader #i’m gonna cry #idk what this is #idk what im doing #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki x y/n #why am i like this

447 notes · View notes

aliceattheart · 3 months

Note

So I was thinking Alastor has Human!S/O who he claimed and brought down to Hell still alive. And even though no one really messes with them because they belong to the Radio Demon, Alastor is tired of the stares so he shrinks his s/o so that he's the only one who can see them.

Yandere Alastor x S/O

No one has the right to look at you but me

Heyyy, Alice here

I haven't ever thought of any storyline like this! I'll try my hardest. Also not really biblically accurate to the series story. Out of character Alastor.

Also story has dark themes if you click the read more you consent to the content you are reading 🙏🏾

Thxs for reading:D

Alastor was quite particular when it came to answering summonings. Unfortunately for you he answered. Your luscious big doe eyes captured him when he meet you. Eager to make a deal with you.

All you asked for was help with financial issues. Not having the money to keep yourself a float. Your head bobbing in and out for a fresh breath of air. An easy target he thought.

"S/o in trade for this deal, I want part of your wonderous lifespan. A simple request honestly." He chuckled lightly. And by the sounds coming from around him, sounded like an old rerun laugh. "No money problems and you have quite a lot of life left in your sinful body. What do you say, hmm?" The energy behind his words sounded so sickly sweet, but there was something more sinister behind those eye.

Having nothing else to live for. Without really looking at your contract, you signed your first and last name at the bottom of the contract. Alastor grabbed your hand and pressed his sharp finger into your thumb. Blood started to leak over the document.

That was the greatest mistake of your life.

You don't remember how long you've been here. Has it been months or years? You couldn't tell, all there was in the sky was a red gleaming light.

After your little deal, Alastor dragged you straight down to hell. Not by choice of course, solemnly remembering your first day in hell. Alastor made a big scene to ensure everyone knew you were his favorite marionette. "So leave them be, or you'll find out what it's like to die a second time."

Quite frankly to everyone else you seemed like a little hostage he keeps around for his entertainment. Making you run hard errands in the sweltering heat. Also adorning you many maid/servant outfits.

"Why don't you look ravenous." Some lousy scum bag said to you. He must be new down here. Feeling bad you only gave him a warning to run away from you. "Sir, I don't mean to sound rude or anything but I kid you not don't talk to me." "Why not sug, you can't be stuck up after death too."

"Pleading with a stranger S/O? I thought I've taught you better than that. And you're late." You froze instantly hearing your master's voice. "I apologize, I was on my way-." He cut you off to steal a glance at the sinner that dared to talk to you. Giving him a mischievous grin.

"I'll give you a whole minute to run, after that I'll let my hunting dogs come after you." He said with a sing song voice. Snapping his fingers a furious black dog appeared out of a demon circle. It has three sharp fanged heads. A tall broad figure with long snouts.The perfect hunting dog, Alastor managed to make. His favorite beast in his collection of horrors.

Turning to look at you. "S/O my dear, please head home. We have a serious conversation to be held." He whisked you off without a second thought. Scared not to follow his orders. You slowly turned away from the scene Alastor was putting on.

Starting up his radio broadcasting. A dark ominous energy surrounding the area.

"Ladies, gentlemen and variations thereupon, care to witness a spectacular event. A poor unfortunate soul meeting his second maker." His minute was far gone, yet he was still insight. The dogs speared not a second when Alastor said, "Fetch."

The carnage was immense. His yells, screams for help went unheard by the people spectating. Some laughing maniacally glad that it was him and not them. After the dogs were finished all that remains is his chewed up bones.

"Thank you for you time, I bid you adieu." Everyone started to clap and praise him. Remembering what happened to the last guy that didn't.

It wasn't long before he would return. Following your usual schedule you set the large dining table with varieties of heavy meat dishes and perfect sides to combat each other. While cooking you were going heavy on the seasonings. Not knowing what he wanted tonight, having not told you when he sent you off.

Your stomach growled. You put your plate up earlier. Alastor had special rules you had to follow. One being not to eat at the table with him and to stay by his side until he was finished. Quite frankly it was unfair. Even sometimes taking his precious time to finish eating.

2 rules you unfortunately managed to break was being late and talking to others he did not promit you to. Boy you were going to be in a world of pain. Your master has a cruel streak regardless of the events that have taken place.

Looking out of the window at the Red Maple trees he made you take care of with your life. Spacing out and thinking of the time he burned his name into your soul. You couldn't properly function for weeks. Not able to move or eat properly. That was your personal hell. He told you it was a part of the contract but you honestly don't know.

The chime of the door opening was your que to get scared. Speed walking to the door to gracefully take his coat off his shoulders. Slightly trembling with every movement, not making eye contact. You could smell the blood redating off of him. Gently putting his coat on the dark burgundy coat hanger. Fidgety with the thought of your punisher being centimeter away from you.

"S/o, won't you look at me?" He said so sweetly and placing a hand on your cheek to lift your face up to meet his. It was only an act of kindness, you know that. You just couldn't help yourself, by rubbing your face into his palm. "You know I wouldn't want to hurt you but you leave me no choice. I can't have rule breakers living with me, can I?" The slightest sound of radio static entering your full soundings. "I don't like how disobedient you have been in the resent weeks. I think I should put you down a few sizes for your transgressions. What do you think?"

Making everything he says a rhetorical question. Leaving very little room to speak. It only took him a few seconds of him chanting something you couldn't understand. With a snap of his fingers you were closer to the ground than you ever where before. You could compare yourself to a doll. Picking you up, Alastor took you to his private study. He always had a big doll house in there. It was for you.

"You will sit in here and isolate yourself until you understand that no one has the right to even look at you but me. It is your fault for not following the rules." Opening the top of the doll house in dropping you inside. "Goodnight my Angel." As he closed the top of the roof, leaving you in udderly complete darkness.

Heyyyy, Alice here

I wanted to make this a bit longer than usual. Thanks for reading xD

#yancore #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #crazy #dead dove do not eat #dark themes #alastor the radio demon #s/o #gender neutral reader #poor unfortunate souls

136 notes · View notes