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#SO PAPA G IS IN MY HEART
nkogneatho · 10 months
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𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐒 (𝑭𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹'𝑺 𝑫𝑨𝒀 𝑺𝑷𝑪𝑳)
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—cw: fem!reader, diabetes worth fluff, soft and protective dads, megumi, tsumiki as yours and toji's kids, mention of childhood trauma in geto's, dad jokes, not proofread
—a/n: I hope you shed a tear and laugh out loud. Don't let this flop. I actually wrote all of these from my personal emotions and experiences :)) Reblogs appreciated.
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#mlist #art commissions #taglist
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˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ TELL ME WHO WAS YOUR FAVORITE DAD!!! ༊*·˚
𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 .ೃ࿐
All these jjk women clowning gojo makes me think his daughter roasts him at every chance she gets. It's not even on purpose. It's just wise words out of a child's mouth.
"Hana-chan~" he calls her in a sugar laced tone. "How do I look in this?" Satoru pointed towards the awful shirt he was wearing. The outfit was all over the place. It was so bad that even your five year old could tell it.
"Papa's good at fighting, not fashion." His jaw immediately dropped and he could hear you trying to control your laugh.
He knelt so he could be a little more "Hana-chan, don't be mean to papa. It's making me cry."
"She's not being mean, baby. Just telling the truth. I'll divorce you if you wear that one more time," you stated, walking towards both of them.
"Oh yeah," he picks the five year old in his embrace, "I'd fight your lawyer. Daddy's the strongest. Right, hana-chan?"
"But you lost the argument to mama las' night." It was amazing how she can sounds so sweet while ripping your husband apart. You finally laughed out loud because you just couldn't control it.
You would expect Toru to put up an argument at times like this but he just giggles, and squeezes you both in a tight hug.
Yeah. He might be the strongest, but he'd always loose to his two girls.
𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 .ೃ࿐
Your four year old and seven year old were determined to surprise their daddy for father's day. Toji never credits himself. He does so much, but expects nothing back. The thought of "what my kids might gift me for father's day" doesn't even strike his mind. He goes out and sees all the decorations on the stores with big glittered alphabets spelling "happy father's day" that's how he comes to know about it. Yet, the man wouldn't expect anything. He knows you three love him. He just doesn't want anything in return. His love doesn't come at a price for you all to pay. So when he came home to utensils clanking to the ground, he was worried.
"Oné-san, no. That's not how I wanted yout two write," megumi complained.
"Megumi, I am older. I know what to do." They both were trying to dominate each other on what to write on the cake. When they heard Toji's footsteps, the little boy pushed you towards the kitchen entrance.
"Mama, don't let papa come in now." You were laughing as you get kicked out of your own kitchen.
"Hey, sweetheart. I heard some noise. 's everything alright?" Toji gave you a quick peck after the question.
"Oh? Oh that yeah! Everything's fine. I just dropped the pan."
"Are ya hurt?" His eyes look completely concerned.
"Uh hun, I am fi—" before you could complete the sentence, your two cute munchkins came squealing, holding the little cake with small hands.
You moved your figure out of the way so your man can see what his kids made for him.
"Happy father's day, papa." They both wished him with a hearty smile. Toji was surprised. His heart suddenly warmed up to the feeling of the view in front of him. His two babies with flour patches on their tees, tsumiki's messy bun and megumi with cream near his lips, confirming he must've snuck in a taste when his sister was looking away. He wanted to cry.
You looked down and noticed there was a spelling mistake with the word "world" on the cake which was supposed to spell "to best daddy in the world"
"Gumi, Tsumiki, there's a mis—" Toji looked at you and shaked his head, speaking with his looks, telling you to not say it. He did notice it, but he didn't care about the mistake. All he wanted now was to gobble down the cake that his babies made. He pat them both on the head, ruffling their hair. "Thank you, little bears. Lesgo' enjoy this and then papa will take you and mama to the game world you like."
With the way he is looking at them, you're sure he'd eat that cake even if it was poison.
𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 .ೃ࿐
Geto didn't think he'll ever have kids, but when he was gifted with twin girls, he claims he is the luckiest person alive ever since.
He loves spoiling his little girls. He takes them shopping, pampers them all the time, helps them learn their nursery rhymes. If they ever were to grow up being too bratty, you are prepared to blame him because he never scolds them. He would dare not to. But that is the thing about kids. You don't yell at them. You don't have to be so harsh. You just have to ease it in and make them understand how their wrongdoings can affect others, hurt others as well as themselves.
Something always triggered inside you when you saw him being soft with Rumi and Arohi. You wished you were treated that way in your childhood. You only thought about them being bratty if not yelled, because that's what your childhood was like.
You were working on some documents, when you heard the door unlocking. Rumi and Arohi walked in with their pink bunny bags on their back.
"Mama, we're home!!" they squealed and ran into your arms, as you quickly set the files aside.
"Aww, seems like you had fun without mama. Where's your dad?"
"There." They pointed at the 3 foot box with legs on the door.
"AH! OH MY GOD. Who are you? How did you get in?" Your mother instincts hid the girls behind your back, as you tried to find something to hit the man with.
"Y/N, NO. IT'S ME," the box monster yelled. He moved his head revealing his fox eyes and you could recognize him.
"Suguru? Oh dear."
"A little help please," his voice felt struggled. You quickly sprinted towards the door, and helped him trying to get the box on the floor only two reaveal all the bags he had behind him.
"Did you guys buy the whole store? And what's this? A lego set?"
"That's for you, mama," Rumi stated.
"Yes mama, we got it for you. The biggest one in the store," said Arohi, running towards her shopping bag filled with toys.
"Suguru, for me? Why?"
"Darling. I always see you doing so much for us," his palms now cupped your cheek. "It broke my heart when you told me that story when you wanted the lego set but the responsibile daughter in you felt you did nothing to achieve it so why ask for it. Well here you go."
"I still don't understand," you shaked your head.
"Y/n. It's okay to spoil yourself. You don't always have to work hard to give yourself a little love. These things that you wanted were always yours even if all you did was try." Tears started streaming down your eyes. You felt the seven year old girl in you finally smile.
"Rumi-chan. Arohi-chan. Let's play with mama's gift." All three started sabotaging the tapes and lables in the big blue box.
You felt happy to have this family. You know why he's a great father? Because Suguru doesn't care for two kids. He spoils three. Your daughters, and that little girl in you who wished to have all that you do today.
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 .ೃ࿐
A man like nanami will always be a great father. No doubt. But here's one thing you probably don't know about Nanami Kento.
He's a full time salaryman, and part time comedian. Well...probably the worst one because his dad jokes are awful. You wanna know how it started in the first place, right? So it was when you were feeding the two year old the baby food, that you suddenly heard your phone ringing. Kento quicky replaced your place and took over the feeding as you walked towards the hall.
"Aww look at you. Aren't you the cutest baby in the world?" He took the spoon off the alligator cartooned bowl and extended it near her mouth. "Do you want to hear daddy's joke?"
Three mintues later you walked in two the sound of your little girl giggling and laughing. She's never laughed so loud.
"Oh my god. She's laughing."
"Yes. I made her laugh, beloved." Kento looked so happy with the biggest smile.
"Really? What did you do?"
"I said a joke." You luaghed too soon. Was that line a joke because Nanami Kento being comical? No. Impossible.
"I am sorry, baby. It's not true, right?"
"It is. You wanna see? Okay here we go." He moved his head back to harumi. "Harumi, do you know what do you call an alligator in a vest?" Your eyes were hooked on to them.
"An investigator." You couldn't believe your eyes nor your ears. She was really laughing. You chuckled too. Harumi must really loved his dad. Either that, or she has a poor sense of humor like the blonde in front of her.
Since then, Kento always collects dad jokes like pokemons and records her giggling.
𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 .ೃ࿐
Trust me or not, Sukuna is a great father. I'll tell you why. You don't see his protectiveness? Yeah he doesn't show much care on the surface, but you don't spot how he is always lurking behind you to whoop anyone's ass who tries to hurt his loved ones?
That's how Sukuna is even as a father. He wants his kids to stand up for themselves, but he'd always be having their back. To hold them and catch them if they trip.
"Oh they sure do grow up fast. You blink and they're already in college, y/n," your neighbor laughed with you. It was Akio's fifth birthday party.
"Everything looks great, but... " she scanned around, "don't you think pink theme is too girly for a boy? Especially the flower tiara on Akio's head.
You were irritated. How dare she say that? Unfortunately for her, Sukuna heard it and quickly walked to you. He kneeled to place the sanrio stickers on Akio's cheeks.
"Yeah so?" Your husband questioned the woman. "Who said pink is for just girls? And even if it was, there wouldn't be anything wrong with Akio liking it." The silence followed made it clear she didn't expect the clapback.
"Plus the tiara makes him look the cutest. Maybe you should try one. It's on the counter. You can surely use..." he eyed her head to toe"...some glow up.
She immediately rushed out of the door with her son and not apparently the counter. You three burst out laughing.
"Ugly Bitch telling my son what he should like."
"KUNA!" you slapped his back for swearing in front of your child.
"What?! Hey, if Akio ever wanted to call her that, I will galdy let it slide. In fact, I'll support him."
He might act like an immature kid sometime, but you know you had kids with the right person when he makes sure his children are raised in healthy environment.
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Taglist: @denji-star @simp-lauren @katsukichu @bbytamaki @thebrokenkitkat @his-saiko @loml-riri @milophiliac @aztecbrujeria @tohokuu @chailattle @erintaro @pumpumrins @lilitudemon @suyacho @keiskyutie @aiizenn @fluffy-ai @bibemiiu @4sat0ruu @namcore @yuujispinkhair @buerriberry @vagabond-umlaut @thedead101
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tojipie · 5 months
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nurse geto my sweet <3
content: fluff, established relationship, can be read as fem or gn reader, angst, hurt/comfort
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nurse geto whose shoulders stretch out the starchy blue material of his scrubs. whose shaggy hair cascades out of the front of his bun and over his forehead after a long shift.
whose happy trail peeks over his waistband just the slightest bit whenever you catch him stretching. smiling for his patients even though his permanent eyebags that stretch back to medical school offset his cheery demeanor.
nurse geto who has cute little charms fastened in the holes of the crocs he wears to work, little logos of his favorite bands. a “g” for himself, right next to your matching initial.
who keeps his wedding ring off due to sanitation restrictions, but always on his person so he can wear it as soon as his shift is over. who spends each and every lunch break with you, shit-talking the doctors and their pompous attitudes.
suguru loves the little ones. the sweet babies coming in for their annual checkups, the newborns in need of warm sink baths, and the tiny cherubs scared to get their first-ever flu shot.
the kids love him just as much, running to wrap their little bodies around his leg when it’s time to go, babbling out a “bye-bye mister” as their moms lead them by the hand out of the exam room.
suguru so badly wants to be a father. wants to spend the rest of his life protecting the sweet souls that come into his care. you don’t quite understand until the day he comes to you after one of his sweet little patients calls him “papa,” locking the both of you in a spare linen closet and sobbing into your neck for a good hour.
suguru is a kind man, an even better healthcare worker. but he gets attached too easily.
you tell him it’s okay, that there’s nothing wrong with having love for the little ones during their time at the hospital. you’ve had your fair share of heartfelt moments with the babies too, longing for them to stay just a little bit longer after their last checkup for the year.
he can’t help how big his heart is or how deeply he wishes to share it with a family of his own, how happy he looks every time a freshly born angel wraps their wrinkly hand around his finger.
geto suguru was born to be an amazing father, and you can’t wait to give that to him someday.
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grimm-cod · 7 months
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Simon is DEFFFF a GIRL DAD.
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Simon and you had identical twin girls, and THEY ARE THE LIGHT OF HIS LIFE.
Simon would do anything for his girls.
tea party with stuffed animals? done.
painting his nails? done.
when Soap asks him why his nails are bright pink when he takes his gloves off, Simon just gives him a glare in response, and Soap decides not to press further.
When he gets home after a mission, and his girls are already tucked into bed, Simon goes into their bedroom to press soft kisses against their foreheads.
If one of the twins had a rough day at school, he would always be the first one to comfort them, which is odd because he's a big, broody, war machine, but he has a heart goddamnit.
He would name his twins: Sage and Saffron.
"They keep calling me the 'other Sage', dad." Saffron would tell him one day after a rough day at school.
"You're my Saffy, sweets. dont let 'em mess with ya." Simon would reply.
if one of the twins got sick, you and him would nurse her back to health, but soon enough, the other twin had the same damn thing, so now, you both are stuck dealing with moody, sick, identical twins.
"Dont wanna take my medicine, dad." Sage would argue.
"Dont care, love. gotta take it." Simon would reply after an hour of arguing with her, getting her to try and take her medicine. Saffron on the other hand, she had taken it instantly, no matter how bad it tasted.
AND OHHH GODDD. if Soap were to ever find out that Simon had twin girls at home, and he was really a big softy behind closed doors, THE TEASING WOULD NEVER END.
Soap would tell anyone he came in contact with.
"Y'know, the Lt. has little twin girls? he treats them like princesses. he's a softy under all that mess." Soap would tell everyone.
And dont even get me started when he meets you and the twins for the first time.
Immediately takes on the role of "Uncle Johnny". Price would be "Papa Price", and Gaz would be "Uncle G", cause the twins couldnt stop calling him Gas instead of Gaz.
"They'll get the accent soon enough." Soap tried convincing Simon that the twins would get his scottish accent if he spent enough time with them, but Simon immediately shut that down.
Simon didnt want his precious girls around anything military related.
Simon had to pick the girls up from school one day, and the other parents couldnt stop staring at him because he was in full uniform, having left from base.
Simon's uniform would definently make the younger kids cry. I would cry too if i saw a 6'4", muscular, british guy in a skull mask and military uniform and tactical gear.
Simon did feel bad though.
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javarium · 5 months
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under the clouds, in my heart | g. satoru
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it’s these kinds of days that make Satoru the happiest — that remind him of the wonderful things he has in his life now; thunderstorms where his wife and children are safe and protected inside of his home are all he could ask for
w — post canon! gojo, canon-divergence, pregnant! reader, former first-year student! reader, mentions of underage relationship, mentions of being in a former! student-teacher relationship, Papa Satoru & Mama Reader, Satoru and Reader have a (growing) big family, this ended up shorter than I anticipated
a/n: another fix it fic you guys 🤧 this one has been in my drafts longer than 236
[ apart of the TFFTS universe! ]
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He loves seeing you cozied up in his sweaters, no matter the time of year (he secretly keeps it colder than normal in the summertime so you’ll put them on, but he’ll never tell you that). He loves how the hemline rests at your knees, a testament to the cute height difference between the two of you.
With your pregnancy belly, like now, sweaters only seem reach mid-thigh.
Ah, he’s not complaining.
He’s back from a mission overseas a day early, one he committed to speed-running like a demon so he could get back to his growing family. It wasn’t too necessary, considering he doesn’t have to do many more missions nowadays. The only reason he was summoned was because of his long, long influence, to which he most definitely used to get back faster.
But the universe hits his Pause button the second he warps back into his lovely home. For good reason. His heavenly blue eyes take in the scene in front of him, soul imprinting this memory into itself for eternity.
Seiji, his five-nearly-six year-old firstborn, was curled up on your lap, head using your thighs as a makeshift pillow. Traitor. Satoru can hear little snores escaping his lips at the awkward position his head is in. But if Satoru tilts his head, he can see his son’s protective decision from where his head and body lay.
Sanari, his sweet daughter, is curled up by your left arm. Her white curls of hair are splayed out on the pillow behind her as her head rests on your shoulders. Satoru chuckles. He can clearly see drool at the corner of her mouth pooling onto the sweater of his you’re wearing.
Lightning lights up the sky outside. And suddenly, the gushing sound of rain is all Satoru can hear — a downpour. Huh, the clouds had been just as white as his hair earlier. He supposes anything can happen though.
He can’t even see outside anymore now. The greenery has been completely overtaken by the opaque gray of the intense rain and thunderstorm.
Satoru’s head snaps back to you and his sleeping offspring. As much as he wants to join, he can’t bring himself to. He wants to do anything besides ruin the picturesque moment in time before him.
Just look at the family he’s made for himself.
Ah, but the squirming toddler in your arms may do just that anyway. So he doesn’t debate taking Junpei from your arms as he begins to scrunch up his adorable little nose.
Besides, Satoru’s sure you’re bound to wake up soon. His Six Eyes tells him that because the cursed energy from within your tummy is starting to become restless, the twins are finally waking up.
A big family hadn’t been on his mind. You both agreed on leaving your family with Junpei as your youngest. Especially with you falling pregnant so soon with him after having trouble with Sanari’s pregnancy and birth.
But things don’t always go to plan, do they? Satoru muses.
Taking the littlest that'll soon be a big brother wakes you from your nap. You inhale and exhale deeply as your eyes flutter open, blinking quite a few times before your vision clears.
“….’toru~” Your sleepy inhale sounds like a cute sniffle; he can’t help but grin. “You’re home?”
“Surprise, baby,” Satoru mumbles as he sits down and leans over the couch and over your pregnant belly to sweetly kiss your lips. “I’ll be home for awhile this time,” he adds softly. One arm holds his son, the other wraps around the back of your shoulders, hand resting on your upper arm to gently pull your body into him to deepen the kiss. You can’t help but giggle against his lips, and he smiles and giggles into it in return.
Lightning brightens the sky, this time for the longest you’ve ever seen. And following it, is the mightiest thunderclap you’ve ever heard. It makes even your husband jump, surprised by the deafening boom. Your lips separate from Satoru’s, who’s looking out the window with you, impressed by the power of Mother Nature.
It wakes Seiji and Sanari, who despite their maturity for their age, show their age by the fat tears pooling at their eyelids. Junpei, fully awake, begins to cry too, slightly louder than his older siblings. The toddler buries himself into his daddy’s shoulder for comfort and protection. And when the other two see their dad, who’s back home early, they jump to him and do the exact same, hugging him and burrowing into his chest and neck.
You’d take a picture had your babies not been so scared.
When your hand rubs Seiji’s back, the little boy turns to you, eyes watery with fear. He takes two little steps on the couch and softly stumbles into your outstretched arms. He rests his bottom on your thigh, head burrowed into the crook of your neck, little hands balled up into fists with the sweater you were wearing between his itty bitty fingers.
“Come on, Seiji. Off Mama’s belly,” Satoru says, a slight tinge of worry to his voice as he sees him lay a little too heavily on your rounded middle.
The little boy gasps lightly and moves. “Sorry, Mama. Sorry babies.”
You chuckle and kiss his tiny forehead. Satoru presses his lips to the side of his son’s temple, his free hand reaching for his sides to tickle him, saying things about how cute he was.
Sanari takes the moment to detach from her daddy’s side and dives back into your ribs, albeit much more carefully than her older brother. She sniffles, still scared from the clash of thunder, but much calmer now that both her parents were home and awake. She burrows her head under your arm, almost behind your back, leaving her nose room to breathe in the cool air and the sweater that smells like both you and her papa.
It’s so cute, Satoru thinks. She’s the complete opposite of him. She’s the more quiet and reserved one of her siblings. And he still suspects that she still will after her younger twin siblings will be born. Satoru has a feeling, knows in his gut that they’ll be the most extroverted of his children, bouncing off the walls just like he does every day.
Though not so much anymore, heh. He’s still a childish person at heart, but his age is slowly getting to him, slowly beginning to chip away at his ability to be the flamboyant jujutsu sorcerer he used to be. He can feel the ache of time and age begin to take root in the bones of his body that had been so tempered.
In its place, however, took fatherhood, took a new and different kind of responsibility that he was more than excited for — days filled with new challenges, watching his kids grow as he smothers them with love.
His former students were more than capable of handling the load he used to. There’s plenty more of them nowadays than there is of him. With most of them all Special Grade sorcerers, too, he muses. Including you. But you don’t partake in missions like that, mostly being in the reserves of jujutsu society and using your reverse cursed energy like Shoko has.
Especially since becoming a mom.
Satoru sees the rainy day lulling you back to sleep. Being five-and-a-half months pregnant with twins, while also caring for three more while her husband was away would make any woman tired.
His offspring, however, were wide awake.
“Go upstairs and go to sleep,” Satoru says quietly. He sees the waves of fatigue hit every time you blink several times in one go. Your happy expression is getting harder to hold as you grow tired all over again, and Satoru thinks he’s going to have to carry you upstairs, fearing you falling.
But you, ever-stubborn, refuse. “I’m okaaay,” you reply, yawning into the words.
The white-haired man chuckles and shakes his head. “Go to bed,” he says, this time in a more commanding tone. “I’ll wake you up in a couple hours with food ready.”
And when he makes that face, the cutesy one that also means he’s more than happy to carry you to bed, you don’t argue. He does, however, help you up off the couch and watches from the bottom of the stairs to make sure you lose balance and tip backwards. Satoru blows you a kiss, to which you chomp down at, mock-devouring his kisses. He gasps, fake offended, and it gets the giggle out of you he’s hoping for before you go into the bedroom.
Satoru’s heart swells with adoration and love. It overflows even more as he turns back to his two sons and his daughter. God, he almost wants to cry. What did he do to deserve such happiness in his life? After everything he’s done, that’s happened to him, when did the universe decide a beautiful wife and sweet, adorable children were in the cards for him?
He doesn’t know. All he knows is that he’s going to hold his family close to his heart and protect them until his last breath.
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a/n: this got published at a completely random time lmao, where did this even come from? this’ll flop for sure but everyone who reads pls enjoy anyway
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hanwiore · 4 days
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a/n: little smut for könig! I love him uhhhh, don’t mind any typos, my pussy wrote this and she’s really tired rn okay!
“uh fuck! s-sorry!” you whine, drool slipping pass your once glossed glittery lips. a smack was swatted against your left ass cheek this time, painting an angry dark red against your brown skin. “cussin now, love? tsk.” two smacks were swatted on the back of your thighs this time.
yours thighs instantly closed, your wetness dripping down them, “g-god, m’ sorry daddy, uhn gosh, m’ so sorry.” it was a shame really, you came to königs house looking so cute, hair freshly done in a half up, half down with a bow right on top of the ponytail. white fold over leggings with a baby pink fitted jacket, you came looking comfortable and smelling so good just to get in trouble.
all because you said his enemy ‘Simon ‘ghost’ Riley ’ was an attractive male, of course it was a joke. I mean, you said it days ago! you thought it was over. but you should have known messing with a guy who have gone through things among what you can imagine would go so kindly on someone who means little harm.
“ja, you sorry baby?” he hums, face sounding tired but in truth. he’s holding back from fucking you. your face is bent over the arm rest of his big couch, booty perched up while your cherry printed panties are half way down your butt cheeks. leggings down to your ankles as your toes curled underneath your fuzzy socks. “hm? you sorry?” he grabs the hood of your jacket, grips it to pull your whole body up, “the fuck you sorry for huh? tell me.”
the same hand on your hoodie moves to the front of you to grip just an inch under your jaw, he moves you back enough to you feel his bulge against your ass. “I-i didn’t mean it papa, I s-swear.” you gargle, still shaking from the spanking you have received.
his lips moves to kiss the side of your forehead, then moves down to your neck, “yea, I know princess.” now his other hand moves and covers your pussy, you feel him moving it against your bud slowly. and you being so damn sensitive, you think you could’ve came right then and there if it wasn’t from the sudden slap he left on your cunt. “ha-haah! daddy- oh my g-gosh.” your body jerks forward and your thighs press against each other, you barely get a moment to do so before your receiving another slap, this time to your boobs that was revealed due to him tugging the zipper down.
you felt like crying, you really did. you whimpered out loud, your fingers found their way to both of his wrist—the one on your jaw and the other one on your thigh that forces it open—you squeeze them as you beg. “p-please. I-it hurts so much.” honestly, you were lucky. you may not have felt as if you were but god, it could have been worse than this. but könig just has a sweet spot for you, you haven’t ran away from him yet, you take it like the good girl you are, he hurts you and you come to him to fix it.
he loves it.
he loves you.
“it hurts princess?” he moves his arms away from you, pushing you back down so your ass is back in the air. “mines hurts too.” his jagged fingers goes and squeezes his dick through his sweats, “fuck, hurts so bad. m’ drippin’ baby.” he sees your head moving to lay flat on your cheek so you can look back at him, a pout on your cute face but he can see your eyes.
you fucking adored him.
“l-love you so much daddy, d-daddy i love y-you so much.” he smiles at that, he bends down slightly to kiss both of your perky butt cheeks, that jiggles with every quiver you’ve made. And all of a sudden you gasp as he quite literally tongue kisses your pussy. His nose so close to your puckered hole as his tongue is making out with the hole that creates the taste he’s obsessed with.
“o-oh.” it almost sound like a cry for help, you were so happy though. you felt so good. you relax against the couch, dainty fingers grabbing anywhere to calm your racing heart and shaggy breathing. “mph, h-heavens.”
his hands grips the fat of your ass to scoot you closer against him, tongue now going side by side against your clit, nose just as wet as his mouth is. then he does the most disgusting thing ever and spits right on your pussy just to slurp it back up and spit on your puckered hole. his thumb is already in there before you think, “oh! f-fuck, shit-,” you know you aren’t allowed to say such words but you just can’t help it.
and he knows, daddy always knows.
he leans back up and pulls down his sweatpants half way down his thick tensing thighs.
you feel it on the wet hole he just spit on. and you’ve seen it a thousand times but you loved to see it all over again.
it was uncut, pink with veins peaking out here and there, but it was so fucking thick. and when ever he was hard enough the extra skin will peel slowly down to show his angry red—wet— tip. You loved it.
that fascination was short lived once you were flipped over and your knees were damn near touching your shoulders, “put it in for me.” his breath was almost as ragged as yours was.
your long acrylic nails, painted pink and white with 3D flowers on it every where clinked against eachother as you stroked his dick once, twice until you slapped it on your chubby lips. making a slimy sound, almost sounds as if it hurts before your pushed it into you.
“d-daddy- o-oh daddy fuck- imma cum a-already.” you moan once he bottoms out. his hands rested right by your head on the arm rest, his legs bent slightly so he can give you short but fast strokes that bruise your g-spot tremendously.
“yea, you taking it baby? taking that d-dick.” his hair falls across his forehead slightly, lips bitten red from his own abuse. eyes clenched shut. “f-fuck mama.” his rough hand slaps your thigh once he picks up the pace more, putting his hands on the back of your knees to fold you impossibly. he was so urgent, urgent to please you. urgent to make you fucking scream.
and you were.
he swore you can make a perfect picture.
you pink bow still in your hair as your hair flows across the couch. eyebrows furrowed and cute lips open slightly to let out the most, sluttiest but cutest whines ever. “a-ah, ah, ah. y-yes daddy- m’ taking it, uh.” your hands moved to grab behind your thighs instead of his while he moves back to inspect your pussy.
he goes to take it out, only an inch away from going completely out before he drops right on in, as if he was tired of doing push ups and gave up. he watches your brown fat pussy lips open wide from his heavy dick, watches how the inside of vibrant pink was creamy with white substance that you caused.
“S-shit, fuck- you creamin on my shit liebe?”
you cry out, head falling back, “c-can’t help it- daddy imma cum- gonna make me cu-cum!” your legs start to shake as well as your walls do, it makes him go sloppy a little bit before he moves forward and now have his hands in fist, legs straight while his fit is on his toes, and he goes absolutely ham in your pussy.
Goes up, then drop again.
Ya’ll make a beautiful musical.
Slapping sounds from his thick chubby balls slamming on your wet asshole, slimy sounds from your wetness and his precum, whiney moans from your and his deep groans that he can’t help but let out.
cause he knows he digging that lil shit out. he knows it.
you’re cumming already, three more strokes in and your absolutely convulsing against his cock. “Ah-ah-ah d-daddyyyy, oh my fu-fucking gosh!” Your fingers pinch your thighs as you can feel your wetness stream from your pussy down to the bottom of your ass on the couch.
he’s not far behind you. between your face, the bouncing of your tits and your tight & wet ass pussy taking his dick like a soldier, every single time makes him moan in your face.
“gonna make cum schönes mädchen.” he legs pull forward so he back on his knees and he pulls you above him, while he’s sitting up. You let go under your legs, wrapping your arms around his neck, reaching around to rub your fingers through his hair as you moan in his ear, “give it to me daddy, gimme it. wan it so bad!”
both of his hands are on your hips, grinding you almost angrily onto his dick, he felt so fucking good.
“a-ah fuck, fuck baby, s-shit-“ he’s grabbing the back of your neck as you feel a warm squirt of cum go inside your throbbing hole, and he’s still going. “G-goddamn.” he shoves his face in your neck as he moves his hips up against you slower and more sloppy.
“no more scherzhaft, yes?” he huffs into your ear.
“yes, no more joking.” you mumble.
256 notes · View notes
dilfl0v3rss · 9 months
Note
Please do bratty Connie x Ony I will give you my heart and lung PLS 😭and 500k
gimme the 500k😛
“pa put it down” ony grumbled his voice low and demanding as he stared daggers into the man in front of him. connie just sighed, tightening his grip on the sneaker as he gave his boyfriend angry eyes. “s’not fair tho. you jus bought sneakers the other day so why can’t i get a pair? actin like you can’t afford em or sum” connie mumbled his last sentence as he turned around to find an employee. this has been going on all day. since connie was able to pass all his finals, ony promised to spoil him a little bit, but that quickly blew up in his face when he seen the pointless shit his boyfriend had him buying.
from jeans that he knew connie would only wear once all the way to some cartier glasses that the boy absolutely did not need, ony was doing something he hated, wasting money. he decided to cut the shopping spree short, purposely bringing up food so connie could agree to leave. as ony walked him out of the mall so they could go eat, connie’s spoiled ass couldn’t help but wonder into a sneaker store, his light brown hands holding about four different pairs of sneakers as he went up to an employee for his size. as they left to go find his desired size, connie had the audacity to get up and look for another shoe to add to the list as if he didn’t just pick up four other ones. being the reasonable boyfriend he was, ony told him to put it back but of course he didn’t listen. connie went to another employee and asked her to go look for that shoe as well.
“c’mere papa” he mumbled, an angry look slowly making its way to his face as connie rolled his eyes before walking towards him. “what” his attitude only made ony more upset as he spoke lowly in his ear. “you actin like a brat right now and ion like that, pick one pair of shoes and after that we leaving” connie sucked his teeth at his words, quickly moving back from him before giving ony an annoyed look. “how you gon promise to take me out and get me whatever i want then gon tell me what i can and can’t have? that’s mad weird and now you pissing me off. ion even want the shoes no more and ian hungry either. jus take me home”
ony had been letting him slide for awhile now, knowing how stressed connie was while studying for his finals, but since connie has been getting a little too comfortable talking to him any type of way ony felt today was a good day to handle that. “aight” was all he said before walking towards the exit, not even waiting for connie to be at his side as he made his way towards the parking lot. connie rolled his eyes, mumbling something to himself as he followed behind him.
it was in less than thirty minutes before ony had him on the side of the road, both hands spread on the window of his black benz as he relentlessly pounded into connie from behind. “today was posed t’be a good day papa, you just had t’ruin it wit that nasty ass attitude” he groaned, his dark brown hand landing hard slaps to the hot, red skin of connie’s ass. his whimpers and moans were soaking into the fabric of his shirt between his teeth as tears slid down his cheeks. “m’srryyyy” he whined, his slurred speech only making ony harder as he tightened the grip his other hand had on the back of connie’s neck.
“fuck i know baby, daddy still loves you” ony’s deep voice went straight to connie’s dick as he began to fuck himself back into ony to reach his release. ony notices this, quickly moving his hand from his ass to his waist to stop the desperate movements. “unt uhh you gon take what i give you. i love you, but you still gotta learn” with that he thrusted into him fully, enjoying the sound of his yelps as connie opened his mouth completely. the wet fabric of his shirt fell from his pink lips as he felt ony’s dick reach his g spot. “f-fuckk da pleaseee”
a smirk planted on ony’s lips, his hips never faltering as he reached around connie’s body to slowly stroke him with his hand. “please what pa, talk t’me” connie’s body jerked at the feeling, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull as he stepped closer and closer to his end. “p-please can i cum. m’not gon be able t’hold it da” he whined, his hands beginning to slip from the window. ony quickly grabbed both of connie’s hands, holding them in his grip as he pinned them back to the glass. “say you sorry first. you know ion play wit you like that” it was almost instant when connie started spilling apologies and “i love yous” all throughout the atmosphere of the car. “m’sorry da i really really am…..love you so much….so so much fuckk m’gonna cum”
ony smirked at his desperation, giving connie’s dick a tight squeeze before stroking him at a quicker pace. ony felt his release as well, slamming his hips into him harder as he spoke lowly in his boyfriends ear. “aight pa go head i forgive you” he groaned, leaving no room for a reply as the both of them let their orgasms rush through them. connie’s eyes lost focus as his body grew weak, his wet ropes of cum shooting onto the black leather seats of the car. ony came soon after, his thick ropes filling connie’s entrance to the brim as he stayed fully buried in him to catch his breath. as the sight of his weakened state, ony knew connie was seconds away from falling asleep, giving him light taps on the face to wake him back up. “stay wit me pa, i gotta clean you up”
ony made sure to get connie dressed, helping him back into the passenger seat before cleaning up the evidence of their actions from the back. as he sat down in the drivers seat, readying his keys to start the car he took a quick glance at his exhausted boyfriend. “here baby” he mumbled, holding out his phone for connie to take. as his light brown eyes looked at the screen he noticed a sneaker app with the search bar out for him to type something. “you furreal?” connie said, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he looked at his boyfriend for approval.
a chuckle flew through ony’s brown lips, his inked hand gravitating towards the nape of connie’s neck as he spoke. “only the five you picked up at the store. if you get extra shit ima know and ima handle you aight?” connie nodded his head, not paying any more attention to his boyfriend as he went to search up the first pair he picked up. ony shook his head, a small smile on his lips as he started the car and headed in the direction of the chinese restaurant connie liked.
“spoiled ass”
446 notes · View notes
viking-raider · 4 months
Text
A Christmas Miracle🎄
Summary: You and Henry are celebrating Christmas with family, while expecting your first child together.
Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader
Word Count: 5.9k
Warning: G - Cotton Candy Goodness, Soft!Henry, Fluff, Kal, Papa Bear!Henry, Domestic Bliss, Christmas Decorating, Pregnancy Stuff, Cotton Candy Fluff, Loving Marriage, Christmas Fluff
Inspiration: This story ties into my Easter story, The Golden Egg.
Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!
If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLISTand turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy! @VIKING-RAIDER-LIBRARY
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“Babe!” Henry gasped, as he came into the living room, nearly tossing the steaming cup of tea in his hand, upon discovering you.
You were standing on the two-step high stool, to sprinkle golden tinsel on the fragrant and robust branches of an eight foot Fraser Fir that stood proudly in the corner of the living room. You chuckled, shaking your head at your husband, but didn't look back at him, as you picked a bit of tinsel off one of the emerald branches, having adorned the needles with too much of the sparkling, thin strands.
“You shouldn't be up there, love!” He scolded you, setting the tea he had made you on the coffee table as he rounded it and the couch, to come towards you, resting his hands on your hips. “I told you, I would help you decorate the tree, once I was done with your tea.”
“I know you did, Hen.” You answered, sighing softly, finally looking down at him and seeing the wrinkle of worry between his brow. It hadn't smoothed since the Brit found out you were pregnant with his child on Easter, nearly nine months before. “But I'm also capable of doing it myself.” You reminded him, resting a hand on his shoulder and giving his neck a gentle squeeze.
“I'm pregnant, not invalid.”
Henry sighed softly, leaning forward to press a tender kiss to your round and pronounced belly. “I know you're capable, sweetheart.” He assured you, looking up at you with an affection in his blue eyes that always melted your heart. “I just don't want you to get hurt. Especially with you so close to the due date.” He said, helping you step down off the stool. “Just sit down and enjoy your tea. Then, we'll tag team the tree together.” He told you, putting an excited smile on his face.
“All right.” You conceded, settling down on the couch and took up your tea, cupping the mug between your hands and letting the heat seep into your palms, before finally taking a sip.
“Your parents will be here in a couple days.” Henry commented, squatting beside a box of Christmas decorations neither of you had opened up yet. “My parents made up their guest house in preparation for their arrival.” He told you, peeking into the box.
Halfway into your pregnancy, Henry had taken time off from acting and the two of you decided to leave your secluded London home for the coziness of Henry's home island of Jersey. Buying a nice, beach front property, three streets and a five-minute walk from his parents' place, with the intent on having your baby boy born in Saint Helier. You loved being on the little Channel Island, sitting on the back patio or taking walks on the beach, breathing in the soothing sea air, which helped your morning sickness a good deal.
The only downside was your family was far out of reach of you, having to fly into Jersey to visit and check-in on you. Your parents wanted to be on hand when you finally had their third grand-baby, so Henry footed the bill to bring them out and his parents were amazing enough to host them while they were here.
“That's great.” You smiled, flexing your sore and swollen feet, watching him pull out ornaments, garland and other little tree decorations. “I can't wait to see them again.” You commented, not having seen them since your fourth month, just before you and Henry left for Jersey. “I'm sure my mom will bring more knitted items.” You chuckled, glancing over your shoulder to the soft, butter-yellow blanket your mother had knitted a couple months ago.
“I would be shocked, if she didn't!” Henry laughed back, his broad shoulders shaking as he stood. “What garland do you want on the tree?” He asked, holding up a strand of colorful beads and another of red and white, twisted ribbons.
You hummed, pressing your lips together and studied your tree, eyes narrowing slightly, scrutinizing the colors on its branches. “I think the ribbon would work best with it.” You finally settled, nodding content with your choice.
“All right then.” He nodded back, putting the other garland aside. “Ah, nope!” He tisked, when you set your tea down and started the mini struggle of standing up. “You put the tinsel on the tree, it's my turn to put the garland on. You relax.”
“Fair enough.” You sighed softly, picking your tea back up and rested against the couch cushions, just in time for Kal to jump up beside you. “Well, hello there, sweet boy.” You cooed at him, reaching out to give him good scratches between the ears and around the neck. “Have you come to make sure I stay put?” You quipped, the Akita resting his head in your lap.
“I did no such thing!” Henry called over his shoulder, carefully tucking the garland into the branches.
“Sure, love. Sure.” You chuckled at him, though Henry's protectiveness at times could be a little overbearing, you knew he did it out of love and first-time father worries. “He's paying you in treats and promises of all the good turkey, ham and brisket bits he plans on cooking for Christmas dinner.” You accused, lifting a brow at the unphased Akita, before wincing and pressing a palm to the side of your belly.
“You all right?” Henry asked, catching a glimpse from his peripheral, pausing a moment.
“Yeah, your son just kicks like a Fly-Half.” You answered, chuckling halfheartedly. “If he keeps these strong legs, he'll for sure make the England team.” You said, trying to ease the look of suspicion on Henry's face, that it was the baby kicking, and your own, that the pain was something more than a false contraction.
“You missed a branch there, Bubs.” You commented, drawing Henry's attention away from the subjection, motioning with your steaming black, Nightmare Before Christmas cup.
“Mm.” He grunted, narrowing his eyes at you, but turned to fuss over it.
You took a deep breath, rubbing the globe of your stomach, hoping to soothe any would-be pains. Thankfully, you didn't have any more throughout the morning, helping Henry put up the ornaments and other little hanging knick knacks on the tree. Something Henry was comfortable with you doing, since you kept your feet on the hardwood, safely beside him.
“I want to do a little plaster imprint of his hand and foot, to hang up on the tree for next year.” You commented suddenly, gently holding a little needlepoint ornament you'd made. It was a silhouette of Henry and you, with Kal between you, the year above your heads. You had made one every year since the first Christmas the three of you had spent together. “Should make a new needlepoint too.” You added even softer.
Henry glanced down at you, a fond and nostalgic light in his blue orbs. “I think that would be a lovely idea, babe.” He smiled, warmed at the idea. “I like the idea of making and expanding our little traditions.”
“I should have given myself a baby bump in this one.” You joked, carefully adding the stitched ornament on a branch, accompanied with the others around it. “So much for accuracy.”
“It looks perfect, my love.” He assured you, kissing your hair. “Now, let's turn the lights on and see how this thing looks!” He proclaimed, shuffling around the tree and plugged in the two strings of lights skillfully wrapped around the tree.
You stood back to get a good look at the Fir, just as the tiny, cool and warm-white LED, diamond facet bulbs flickered on. Making many of the ornaments glitter and twinkle. It brought a great feeling of delight bubbling up inside of you, tugging on your exhausted and hormonal raged body, until tears spilled over.
“Sweetheart.” Henry cooed, pouting at you sweetly, as he closed his arms around your shoulders, hugging you as closely as your belly would allow.
“It looks beautiful.” You mumbled into his chest, fingers gripping at the sides of his shirt.
He smiled, nosing the hair at the top of your head and rubbing your back with one hand. “It is, dear, and so are you.”
“I'm also starving.” You blurted out, breaking the melancholy mood.
“Butter chicken or pepperoni and feta pizza?”
“Oh god, you know me too well at this point.” You giggled, licking your lips. “But, the butter chicken.”
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You sat up in bed, Kal resting between your legs, with his head laying on your belly, as you read your latest book on your Kindle. While Henry was downstairs doing some work on the new Warhammer minis he ordered as a way to keep himself occupied, when he wasn't taking care of you.
“Oh.” You gasped, feeling a sudden, sharp pain. “Gosh, did we disagree on the butter chicken, Bean?” You groaned, pressing your palm to the side of your stomach; Kal lifting his to sniff at your belly as another pain caused you to cramp. “It's all right, Bud. Your brother is just being a little difficult.” You sighed, setting your e-reader on your nightstand and lumbered out of bed, before heading downstairs.
“Hey, love.” Henry smiled, looking up from the Ultramarine mini in his hand. “I thought you were going to bed.”
“I was trying to, but your son doesn't agree with dinner.” You explained to him, looking over his progress on his Warhammer army. “Can you do your trick?” You asked, lulling your head to the side and giving him a cute look.
Henry chuckled, setting his mini down. “My trick.” He smirked, standing up and moving behind you. “Any reason to cuddle.” He teased, reaching around to cup both hands beneath your stomach and leaned you both backwards, taking the weight of your belly as he did.
“Mmm.” You hummed, eyes falling shut, while you let your head rest against Henry's chest. “It feels so good.” You sighed, resting your hands on his.
Henry cradling your baby bump had become a god send throughout your third trimester. Taking the weight of your healthy and active baby boy off your lower back and hips. However in your earlier trimesters, the two of you learned it helped relieve your heartburn and whenever your little one got a bit too restless.
You liked to think it was the baby reacting to Henry's touch.
It was calm for a long, few moments, just you and Henry, slowly swaying side to side, the baby calm. But again, your stomach spasmed and you whimpered, making it clear to Henry, you were indeed having some sort of contractions.
“How long has this been going on?” He asked, eyes wide and brows pinched.
“Since this morning.” You confessed finally, taking slow, deep breaths.
“Why didn't you tell me?” He demanded, startled and worried.
“I didn't have any through the afternoon.” You assured him, patting his hands. “I figured it was just false. But, I'm starting to think otherwise, with how much that one hurts.”
“We should probably go to the hospital.” Henry fret, starting away from you, but you turned and caught his elbow.
“Henry.” You said in a soft, soothing voice. “You remember what the OB said?” You tried reminding him. “Four-One-One.”
“Four minutes apart, a minute long, lasting an hour.” He recited, having listened to your OB, and read numerous baby and expecting parent books.
You had taken a couple of parenting classes as well. Until people started posting photos of you on social media, annoying you and causing Henry to be even more of a papa bear. So, you'd found an online, private class to do in the comfort of your living room.
“Not one has lasted a minute, been four minutes apart or lasted an hour.” You assured him, dropping your hand to his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “If they're the real deal, I'm in the early stages and going to the hospital now will only incur hours and hours of waiting. Which we'll be doing here anyway.”
“What if something happens?”
“Nothing is going to happen, you worry-wart.” You chuckled at him, shaking your head. “Come to bed with us.” You cooed, pushing up on your toes, kissing his bearded cheek and brushing your fingers through the curls above his ear.
“You'll tell me.” Henry insisted as he followed you upstairs to the master bedroom.
“Of course, I'll tell you, Henry.” You assured him. “Then, I'll tell Kal.” You quipped, trying to lighten the mood and get him to smile.
But he didn't smile, his mind preoccupied with making sure everything was ready, should you wake him up and tell him your contractions were growing close together.
Did I get the car seat in the Audi correctly? Where did I put the hospital bag? In this closet or the coat closet downstairs? Everything's in it she and the baby needs, right?
“Babe.”
Perhaps I should just go down and get it, to make sure. What about the nursery? Thank God, I finished the crib last month!
“Hen..”
Do we need more diapers? Are they the right size? What if--
“Henry!” You called out, when he didn't answer you, a far off and growing alarm look in his cerulean eyes, startling him out of his worried trance. “Everything is all right.” You said slowly, holding his gaze steadily. “We have everything we need. Everything the baby needs. If we don't, that's perfectly fine. Your parents and mine have offered their help, should it arise. As have your brothers.”
“I don't know how you're so calm.” He sighed, shaking his head and dropping down on his side of the bed.
You laughed, smirking. “I'm not calm. But there's no use for us both freaking out, especially at the same time. Besides, when I freak out, I have you to pull me back together, the least I can do is return the favor, when you start to lose it.” You told him, maneuvering yourself back under the covers.
“What's a spouse for?”
“You're right.” Henry nodded, turning the light out and resting against the headboard beside you. “One of the many reasons I love you, and married you.” He said, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing your knuckles.
Snuggling down, your back pressed against Henry's chest with his hand ever present on your belly, you tried to focus on falling asleep.
“You know.” Henry commented, half-asleep himself. “I sort of miss when you were in your first and second trimesters.”
“Oh?” You mumbled back, with interest.
“Yeah, you were always jumping my bones.” He laughed, shaking the bed with his mirth. “Well, until the end of your second trimester, when your belly got too big to do anything other than waddle and ride my cock.”
You were instantly awake again at his words. A huge smile of hot guilt and embarrassment on your face, that you hid in your pillow. It was true! The first stages of your pregnancy had made you quite frisky towards Henry. Sometimes so much so, he hadn't recovered from the last time you'd had sex and would need to pleasure you in other ways to bring your arousal down. Not that the man complained about it! But a couple weeks into your third trimester, the raging inferno of your passions cooled off. Even beyond what they were before you were expecting. You were just too tired and sore, uncomfortable, and just ready to give birth, to think of such things. But again, Henry didn't complain. You were grateful for that, because you felt bad that your mood didn't match his, at the moment.
Having seen the look of concupiscent on his face more than once, as the two of you showered together, went to bed or woke in the mornings. But you just didn't have it in you, and he took it with grace and understanding acceptance, not pressuring you or making you feel like a bad partner, for not reciprocating.
The two of you calmed down and allowed each other to finally fall asleep.
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“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Henry asked, the next morning as the two of you finished breakfast.
“I feel all right, Bubs. Only a few pains here and there.” You answered, polishing off your usual cup of chamomile tea, something that had been a staple throughout your pregnancy, to battle your morning sickness and heartburn. “Excited to make cookies with your mum.”
Henry smiled across the table at you. “Good. I bet all these sugary smells are going to drive you and wee man nutty.”
It was a Cavill family tradition to get together, before Christmas, and make cookies for the big family dinner party, as well as to give out as tokens to friends and neighbors. It was also considered quite the honor among the Cavill brothers' wives to have Marianne ask to join her in the massive production. Since she didn't ask just anyone to help her; having a couple secret family recipes to protect in the process. But Marianne had asked, surprisingly and much to Henry's pride, you to help her, at your and Henry's first Christmas. Something that made one or two of Henry's sisters-in-law jealous, especially since the two of you were new and still dating, and one of them had never been asked.
Even to this day.
“Our mouths are already watering for your mother's chocolate chip, mocha cookies.” You confessed; it was one of the many things you looked forward to for Christmas. Marianne's chocolate chip, mocha flavored cookies were something you'd start a fight over, as were her chocolate covered, Oreo truffles with peppermint bark crumble on top. “Oh god.” You moaned, stuffing the last bit of bland, buttered toast into your mouth; Henry laughing at you.
“I'm going to roast up another heritage turkey this year.” He commented, finishing his coffee, then helped clear the breakfast table. “Everyone seemed to love it last year.”
“That's fine with me.” You answered, loading the soap dispenser and starting the dishwasher. “I have one small request.”
“You could make an enormous request, love!” Henry snorted, taking a protein shake out of the fridge.
“I want yams with roasted marshmallows on top.” You told him, confidently. “To myself.”
“To yourself?” He echoed, a smirk on his lips. “How big is the dish?”
“A small one is fine. I just don't want to share it.” You confessed your craving to him.
Letting out a laugh and nodding, Henry shrugged. “All right then. I'll make sure you have your roasted marshmallow covered yams, and I'll have Kal guard them.”
“Excellent.” You nodded back, then looked at your watch. “We should get going. Your mother asked us to get there before ten.” You informed him, heading for the front door and eased yourself down on a small bench that was there.
Henry joined you, squatting down to grab your shoes from underneath the bench and slipped them on your feet, tying them securely, since your prominently belly prevented you from reaching your feet to put on your shoes. Let alone tie them. Your shoes on and helping you back up, Henry got his own shoes on, but paused as he opened the door for you and Kal. He glanced back at the hall closet. Biting his lip, he hurried over and grabbed the baby bag from inside, then dashed after you, putting the bag in the back as he got behind the wheel.
“Just in case.” He answered your lifted brow.
“Fair, I suppose.” You shrugged, unable to argue with his logic.
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“How are you holding up, my love?” Henry asked, peeking into the kitchen, before shuffling over to you, sure his mother wouldn't shoo him out.
“My cookie restraint thinned dramatically after the second batch.” You confessed, looking around at all the Santa's, snowmen, candy canes and snowflakes that were either waiting to go into the oven or cooling. “However, your mum apparently anticipated this. Making me batch yesterday, so I could nibble on them, while we made these.”
Henry grinned, touched at his mother's thoughtfulness. “That was sweet of her.” He cooed, brushing the back of his fingers over your cheek. “Have you had any more pains?” He asked, his brows pinching slightly, worried.
“Nothing concerning.” You told him, closing your hand around his wrist. “You know I'd come get you.” You tried assuring him, giving him a soft smile. “Or your mum would, should my water break.” You giggled, a smile turning into a smirk.
“That's not funny, babe.” Henry snapped softly, eyes big.
You pressed your lips together, guilty, before pushing up on your bare toes, having taken off your shoes for the long standing in the kitchen, to press your lips against Henry's. “I'm sorry, Puppy.” You mumbled against them, before reaching around him, grabbing a finished Snowman, presenting it to his mouth in place of your own. “I baked and decorated this one myself.” You grinned at him, a glitter of pride in your eyes.
“Oh, did you?” He cooed, opening his mouth to admit the round biscuit of white icing, adorned with two black chocolate pearls for eyes and smaller black sugar pearls for a mouth. It had a carrot nose, made of orange icing and the upper crown of the biscuit was covered in purple, blue and white hundreds and thousands, then outlined with silvery snowflake-shaped sprinkles.
Taking the biscuit from you, Henry nibbled on it, already knowing it would be delicious, since you had made it with his family's age-old recipe. “You know.” He mumbled around his mouthful. “I can't wait to share these with our little guy.” He said, smirking down at the bake, before glancing around the kitchen.
“Well, technically, I've already done that.” You giggle, running your hand over the globe of your belly.
Henry snorted loudly, his smirk growing. “You have me there, my love.” He replied, finishing his treat off, reaching out to lay his hand on your stomach as he saw the moments of your son shift, pressing either an elbow or knee out. “Still trips me out to see him move inside of you.” He commented, feeling something around nudge against his palm.
“You should feel it from this end.” You huffed, making a face at the kicks as he tumbled about, prodding a heel into your ribs and a shoulder into your slowly screaming bladder. “Poor bud is running out of space in there.” You cooed, moving your hand to cup the underside of your stomach.
“That he is.” He agreed, leaning down to press a kiss to your belly. “But, soon he'll be out here with us.”
“Henry William Dalgliesh Cavill.”
A cold chill washed down Henry's back, making the little hairs on his neck stand up as he straightened. “Mum.” He squeaked, looking at her over your shoulder.
“You know the rules of setting foot in my kitchen, while we bake.” Marianne scolded her second youngest.
“I do.” He nodded, biting his lip as he half smirked at her. “I was just checking up on her and our little one.” He explained, motioning to you.
Marianne's gaze shifted, her soft and kind blue eyes looking you over. She had noticed the few contractions you'd experience while helping her bake, and had sharpened her eye on you even more. Everyone in the family had a side eye on you it seemed, with your due date so nearby, like they were concerned you would pop like a water balloon.
“I'm fine.” You sighed softly, offering her a reassuring smile.
“Then, you can pop out of our kitchen.” Marianne said, cocking a brow at her son.
You chuckled, loving the nonchalance she had. “We'll see you later, my dear.” You cooed at him, kissing the corner of his mouth, tasting the sugar on his lips and inciting a need for another cookie from your stash. “Off you go.” You giggled, patting him on the chest and set your eyes on your task.
Henry looked at his mother with a pointed look, gesturing towards you, to which Marianne answered with a roll of her eyes and picked up a sheet of cookies needing to go into the oven.
“My back is to you, Henry, not my senses.” You shot over your shoulder, cutting out more cookies from the dough.
“Christ alive, our son has his work cut out for him.” He chuckled, winking at you as he turned to leave and rejoin his brothers and dad in the living room.
You looked over at Marianne and laughed, your mother-in-law joining in, the two of you amused he didn't realize you'd seen her roll her eyes.
“That boy.” Marianne chuckled, shaking her head as she moved to stand beside you, helping portion out the raw dough.
“He's freaked out.” You commented, gently laying a Santa on the sheet.
“Understandably.” She answered, wielding the snowflake cutter with skill. “The first baby is always the most stressful, and Henry's wanted to be a father for a very long time.”
“I know he has.” You nodded, feeling your stomach lightly bump the edge of the counter. “I'm happy and excited for our little one.” You told her, wadding up the scrap dough, then picked up a rolling pin. “I'm definitely ready not to be pregnant anymore.” You snorted, smiling faintly.
“And your worries?” Marianne asked, tilting her head at you, without pausing her work.
You drew in a slow, deep breath. “I'm worried about the labor. I'm terrified about whether or not I'll make a good parent.” You confessed to her, letting your breath out. “I know Henry will, he's incredible with kids. I love watching him with his younger fans, with his nieces and nephews.” You gush, grinning at the flashes of memories. “Seeing him hold Ellie, when we first met her--” You shook your head, a bubble of emotions overwhelming you for a moment, til you cleared your throat.
“You'll be a great mother.” Marianne reassured you, running her hand up and down your back. “You have nothing to worry about there. You'll have me and your mum to help you, as well as Heather and all the other girls.”
“I know.” You nodded, resting your shoulder against hers. “And I appreciate it, with all my heart.”
“Why don't you go upstairs, to Henry's old room, and rest for a bit?” She suggested to you. “I can finish the cookies with Heather.”
“Are you sure?” You frowned, glancing around the organized chaos of the kitchen.
“Yes.” She nodded, resting her hands on your shoulders and turning you away from the counter. “You and my grandson need all the rest you can get.” She directed you towards the entry of the kitchen. “Soon, you won't have it.”
Henry saw his mum guiding you and instantly jumped up from the couch, where he sat beside his brother Simon. “Are you all right, honey?” He cooed, his handsome face pinching.
“She's fine, Henry.” Marianne replied, looking up at him. “She just needs to rest a bit. Take her upstairs.”
“All right.” He nodded, taking your arm and showed you upstairs to the bedroom that was his as a kid. “Can I get you anything? Some water, maybe.” He asked, helping you lay back on the made, full-size bed.
“I'm all right, Puppy.” You sighed, rubbing your face.
“What's wrong, honey?” He asked, pulling up a chair from the desk in his room and sat down in front of you.
“Nothing's wrong.” You replied, sighing, flexing your plump toes as Henry grasped your foot in his hands. “I'm just tired and sore.” You told him, closing your eyes as you let out a soft moan, feeling Henry's thumbs work your arch.
“I got the Dad Talk from my dad and brothers.” He chuckled, gently touching the tip of your toes, each painted a cute red color, that he had done himself about a week before.
He had started giving you little at home, medi-pedis to treat you to something nice. Though, it had taken him a couple tries to get painting your nails down. Admitting it wasn't as simple as painting his Warhammer Minis, like he'd thought.
You giggled back, smirking. “Did they?” You hummed, letting your eyes fall shut. “Any good advice?”
“Um, Simon said that I should explain my job to him as soon as we think he can understand it.” Henry recalled, biting his lip with an amused smirk pulling across his mouth. “So, we don't have another Thomas Incident on our hands.”
“My dad's Sherlock Holmes!” You replied, laughing aloud. “Or god-knows who else!”
“Exactly.” He nodded, amused by it too. “My dad suggested, should we have any more kids, to have girls, that way it doesn't continue on the Cavill boy madness, like dead arms and throwing each other off the couch.”
“I would like, at least, one girl, anyway.” You told him, laying your hand on your stomach, feeling your son shift and kick again, wincing as he did.
“Same.” He smirked, as excited as he was for a son, he had wanted a girl too. “Maybe the next one.”
“Mmm.” You hummed back, falling silent and drifting slightly.
Taking the hint, Henry rested your legs in his lap and leaned back, closing his own eyes to rest. Both of you were exhausted from the months of preparation for the baby, all the worrying about if you would be good parents and protecting your son against the world of social media and paparazzi. But the pair of you had only laid there for twenty or so minutes, before you jerked at a sharp pain, inadvertently kicking Henry in the stomach as you did.
Henry gasped and groaned at the blow, doubling over. “Babe?” He rasped, frowning across at you, finding you half sitting up, hand cupping the underside of your stomach with a look of shocked horror on your face. “What's wron—oh shit!” He snapped, seeing the wet patch seeping through your leggings and onto the duvet on the bed.
“Was that--”
“Uh-huh.” You nodded, gulping thickly.
“It's okay, all right.” He nodded, running both hands through his curls. “Up we go.” He said, holding his shaking hands out to you, pulling you up and wrapping an arm around your waist. “Broke your water on my childhood bed.” He commented offhandedly, letting out a nervous chuckle.
“It is where we had our first kiss.” You added, lifting a brow at him. “Why not this too!”
“Mum!” Henry called out as you reached the bottom of the stairs. “We have to go.” He said as Marianne rounded the corner from the living room. “Someone's water broke.”
“Oh gosh!” She exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “Go hurry!” She shooed the two of you towards the door, before spinning on her feet. “Code blue everybody!” She shouted at the family gathered in the living room, snapping them into gear, sending brothers and in-laws scrambling everywhere.
“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Henry asked as he helped you buckle your seatbelt.
“Like I just peed myself.” You snorted, clutching your belly. “Henry.” You cooed at him, watching him make jerky movements but not move from your side. “Hen!” You called, reaching out to grab his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake.
“Huh?” He whimpered, blinking a few times.
“My shoes are still in the house.” You informed him, offering your sweet partner a smile.
“Oh right!” He nodded, kissing your hand and backing away to close your door, then raced back inside, running into a gaggle of his family fighting to put on shoes and coats. “Excuse me, pardon me!” He barked, diving into the huddle, scrabbling for your shoes.
“Henry!” Nik shouted after him.
“I forgot her shoes!” Henry yelled over his shoulder, pelting back to the car. “Got them!” He smiled, sliding home into the driver's seat and dropping them onto the center console. “I'll put them on you, when we get to the hospital.” He told you, starting the car and pulling away from the curb, while ordering Alexa to map the route to Jersey General Hospital, the very hospital where he and his brothers had been born.
“Speed limit, Cavill!” You reminded him, frowning.
“Baby!”
“He's not going to pop out right now!!”
“He could!
“Between the two of us, Hank, I'm damn sure he's not!” You snapped back, through a contraction. “Deep b-breaths! ” You wheezed, through the pain.
“Relax your shoulders, don't clench your jaw, take a deep breath in....and let it out!” Henry reciting your Douala and doing the technique with you. “Amazing, baby doll. I'm so proud of you.”
“Jesus Christ on a motorbike.” You sighed as the pain faded. “We're waiting at least three years before we have our daughter.” You panted over at him.
“Yes, ma'am.” Henry laughed, holding his hand out to you. “Whatever you want.”
“I know what we should name him.” You said, softly.
“Oh?” He replied, pulling into the hospital parking lot. “What?”
You looked over at him, your expression soft. “I want to name him, Charlie.” You told him, biting the corner of your lip, you'd put a lot of consideration into it over your pregnancy. “We wouldn't have met, if your brother didn't nag you to come talk to me at that club.”
Biting his lip, a heart shaped lump thumping in his throat. “You're right.” He whispered; voice raw.
Charlie had prodded him for an hour, while supplying him with shots of liquid courage, to finally cross the club you both were in. You were with your friends, blowing off steam after a long work week, and Henry, Charlie and two other friends of Henry's were just hanging out, since he was in town and not working on any projects.
He never forgot the look on your friends' faces as he approached your table, recognizing him, melting into the dark leather of your corner booth and mumbling to each other with hungry, googly eyes. But you, while surprised a celeb was approaching you, hadn't fawned over him, like they did. You'd kept your cool, with jittery insides. Henry politely acknowledged everyone at the table, but his blue eyes were set on you. He asked, trying to have a persona of cool and calm, if he could get you a drink, noting on the way over, yours was empty, and with relief, you'd said yes. So, you dislodged yourself from your friends and followed him to the bar. Striking up a conversation with him, that moved to an empty table, after getting your drinks and lasted until the announcement the club was closing, at two am.
Neither of you had wanted to move apart, but it was late and you both knew it. So, you exchanged numbers and texted while you got yourselves home, then fell asleep. Making the promise to have a proper dinner the next day.
All of which snowballed to this moment. Sitting in the car at the hospital, married and staring at each other between contractions, discussing the name you wanted for your first born, for your son.
“It's perfect.” He nodded, reaching out to cup your cheek. “I could ask for nothing more for Christmas, than you and our son, for Charlie.” He choked up, leaning across to kiss you deeply.
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@winter2112rose / @littlefreya / @kemillyfreitas / @thereisa8ella / @courtlynwriter / @starfirewildheart / @beck07990 / @goldenirishpotato / @pipsqueakkitten
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princessbrunette · 4 months
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baby daddy - barely holding down a job because of his attitude - line cook jj who feeds you waffles at his work for free as a ‘i’m sorry i knocked you up cause my pull out game ain’t that strong’ when he finds out. being a consistent thing that ends up with him taking ingredients for the ‘secret recipe’ home to their newly conjoined place because it becomes all she (she/her fem reader) craves. him introducing the baby to the work crew. I NEED PAPA JJ ✋
OHHHH MY GOD IM SCREAMING ???? this is exactly what i needed. anon u are an angel omg.
he gets the job as soon as he finds out you’re pregnant. it takes you like two weeks to build up the courage to tell him, because you’re terrified he’ll freak, have worries about being just like his dad and leave. you’re riddled with guilt, rubbing your tummy and crying, somehow feeling like it’s your fault, practically still kids yourself in your early 20s starting a life together. you were scared.
but jj, god, he’s just such a good guy.
he stares at you in shock when you tell him, taking his hat off and running his hands through his hair, and as you brace yourself to be told to get out, you’re met with a teary grin. “you’re not playing right? you mean it?” his voice is shaking. he’s… happy?
within the next two days he’s got that linecook job, called in a favour with some guy who ironically used to owe his dad— explained his situation, ‘look man, i got a baby on the way, i gotta step my shit up—’ the cravings hit hard and you’re seeing JJ a lot more than you planned, showing up at the restaurant for something to tide you over before dinner. JJ appears from the kitchen, bright smile on his face, backwards cap, grease stained white t-shirt, dark blue apron folded and tied at his waist. “there’s my girls.” he grins despite your bump only just being visible, plate of waffles in his hand for him to fork into your mouth whilst chatting, the restaurant pretty empty that day.
he’s tired, but happy to come home to you. your hormones are all out of whack, so sometimes you’re crying and hugging his tummy as he stands over where you sit in confusion, telling him you missed him so much when he was at work. other times you’re clenching your thighs in your little nightie, tits heavy and bump showing, telling him how good he looks in his work uniform and that he’s making you wanna take more of his babies, had you mentioned how much wetter you get when pregnant? JJ tries to keep up with your rollercoaster, happy to deal with whatever you throw at him.
once you have that baby life gets a little harder but it’s nothing the two of you can’t handle. a little girl, and JJ is relieved. he would have loved that baby all the same if it was a boy, but he has to admit the idea scared him a little — knowing his own relationship with his dad. this felt like a breaking of a curse, a fresh start. that baby is his whole entire world, and so are you.
“my weak pull out game is the best damn thing that happened to me.” he jokes, stretching an arm around you on the couch.
“your weak pull out game is making noise in her crib, can you go check on her?” you sark back with a tired grin, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
the baby is the sweetest. your eyes and hair, his nose and mischievousness. once you’ve gained back some energy and the baby isn’t screaming through the night anymore, you start to take her places, showing her your world. the chateau, the group taking turns holding her, arguing over who her number one aunt or uncle is. john b and sarah take the role somewhat as the babies god parents, minus the ceremony and legal title. pope and kie, uncle and auntie. it makes sense to all of you, and they all love that baby like it’s your own— offering their help whenever they can. your baby takes a liking to john b the most, warming your hearts when she falls asleep on his chest.
“its ‘cos hes such a dreamboat. look at him. daddy ain’t pretty like john b.” jj jokes, stretching on the couch opposite as the sun goes down.
“my god she’s so cute!” his best friend whisper yells with a pout as he looks down at her.
everyone takes to calling JJ ‘papa J’, once a random nickname turned reality. JJ is constantly calling you “mama” which makes you wanna get pregnant all over again. he gets super upset when he sees even a flicker of his own father in him, locking him self away for the night, crying until you let yourself in, the baby in bed, rubbing his back. you tell him he’s the best daddy in the whole world, and he is. he just needs to believe it.
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jellys-compendium · 1 month
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My Papa
A Cozy Dad!Vash Drabble
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Rating: G
Summary: Vash tries to teach his two rambunctious twins a new word. Cw: Soft Dad!Vash will make you melt. Prepare yourself. Word Count: ~1K A/n: More soft Dad!Vash on the way! This drabble is based off of my Trimax series. Hope you all enjoy this one!
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“Alright!”
Vash takes a seat at the kitchen table, his two toddler-sized infants sit side by side on their high chairs just opposite him. Their big blue eyes are on him, alight with delight and curiosity as their papa theatrically reveals the children’s book that he’d been hiding behind his back.
“Behold!” Vash proclaims, proudly holding the book upright before his children and giving it a little shake. Luca and Layla giggle at their father’s goofy antics, their plump little fingers reaching out to try and take the book from his hands.
“Nuh uh,” Vash pulls it just out of their reach. “Both of you will get to look at it when I’m done. Right now, your papa is going to read you a story!”
The twins look at Vash quizzically, but once Vash excitedly opens the book, their eyes are immediately glued to the colorful pages before them.
 A tender smile spreads across Vash’s lips at their eagerness. For a man who had seen everything—who had met all sorts and witnessed horrors unimagined as he wandered the desert, the ex-humanoid typhoon would never tire of the wonder in his children’s eyes. 
“Today, I’m going to help the two of you say a new word.”
Vash scooches in closer and Luca and Layla wordlessly follow suit. The three of them lean in close to one another as they partake in the story that is about to unfold. Vash turns to the first page. On it are adorable drawings of a laughing child and a bearded man. Vash points to the picture and begins to enthusiastically read.
“This is my papa! I love him and he loves me!”
Vash grins, lifting the page just enough for his twins to grab it. Without missing a beat, the two turn the page, both transfixed by the colorful drawings and their father’s dramatic reading. 
Vash’s smile widens. He is positively giddy. He just knows in his gut that he’ll get them to say it this time. He can feel it!
 “My papa is tall!” Vash reads, standing up from his seat at his full height. His children erupt in a fit of giggles before turning to the next page. 
“My papa is strong!” 
Vash flexes his muscles before turning around and lifting the chair he’d just been sitting in up and over his head with a single arm. The twins roar with laughter as Vash makes a show of pretending the chair is heavier than it actually is. Then as Luca and Layla turn the page, Vash puts the chair back down and reads.
“My papa is fast!”
In an instant the energetic father of four sprints from the table and across the kitchen. His children’s laughter follows him and Vash can help closing his eyes and reveling in that angelic sound for the briefest of moments.
But no sooner does Vash take that moment, he opens his eyes and turns back around quickly, racing back to his two little munchkins. Vash’s fingers are outstretched and ready to tickle the twins’ plump little cheeks and necks once he reaches them. Luca and Layla squeal with delight, wiggling in their high chairs as they try to tickle him back, and Vash’s heart practically melts into a sappy little puddle on the floor.
Vash stops his tickles, then he sits back down and turns the page.
“My papa is gentle.”
After he reads those words, Vash reaches over to his two children and pats their heads tenderly. The two of them coo, their own fingers reaching up to capture and caress his palms. Vash smiles, and continues the story. He’s read it to them so many times, he doesn’t even need to turn the page. He knows it by heart.
“My papa is brave.”
Vash stands up and leans over the table to plant soft little kisses on his children’s foreheads. He nuzzles each one, closing his eyes as his heart swells so full of love it’s near bursting. And as Vash recites the next line, his voice cracks, just like it does every single time he reads them this story.
“M-my papa is kind.”
Vash then leans back and holds his hands up. His children don’t miss a beat, both reaching up to put their hands in his. Vash is ever so gentle as he wraps up their fingers in his tender hold.
“My papa holds me tight.”
Vash smiles and his children smile back, connecting as he recites the final line.
“My papa loves me. Morning, afternoon, and night.”
Silence fills the space then, and Vash waits for his children to respond. But the twins just look at him with happy little smiles on their faces. Vash leans in and whispers.
“Okay, go on you two. Come on, say ‘papa’!”
Luca and Layla look at Vash curiously, their adorable little heads tilting to the side as they try to grasp what their father is getting at. But as the seconds tick by in silence Vash sighs, the weight of defeat beginning to sit heavy on his chest.
“‘Papa!’ Come on, you can do it! Papa, papa, papa!”
But his children simply grin and reach for the book, turning the pages back to the beginning and looking at Vash expectantly. Vash sighs dramatically, throwing his hands up in the air as he leans back in his chair. If he didn’t know better, he’d think that the giggling from his two little babies was the universe’s way of mocking him.
“This is the fiftieth time I’ve read this to you two. What will it take for you to say ‘papa’?”
The front door opens, and the three Saverems look towards the kitchen’s threshold as familiar footsteps vibrate across the family home.
“Let’s bring these groceries into the kitchen.”
The sound of your comforting voice rings gently through the house, and upon hearing it, both Luca and Layla immediately perk up and shout out loud,
“MAMA!”
Vash groans as despair sets in his bones. Distraught, he hides his face in his hands as you, Nico and Nova enter the kitchen. It only takes one second for you to deduce what happened once you enter the scene.
Vash buries his face deeper into his palms when he hears you softly chuckle.
“You can’t win them all, typhoon.”
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Want more cozy dad!Vash drabbles? Check out the series here!
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starlitmark · 1 year
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Summary: Jongho has to be the best papa bear and husband out there. Pairing: Jongho x fem!reader Tropes: parent au Genre: fluff, slice of life Rating: G Warnings: mentions of childbirth, mentions of lactation/breastfeeding Word Count: 555 Note: Enjoy the brainrot… there’s likely more coming…
Listen to: say you won’t let go by James Arthur || lifetime by Justin Bieber || imagine by Ben Platt || butterflies (ft. Fletcher) by MAX
Special tags: @hwasrie @yoongurt @thelargefrye
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“She won’t break, you know.” You chuckle.
“She’s so… tiny.” Jongho replies, not taking his eyes off your newborn daughter.
She’s hardly a week old, and Jongho has kept his eyes on her nearly the entire time. When he asked you to marry him, he committed to never falling in love with another girl. The moment he laid eyes on your daughter, that promise was broken. He looks at her like she is the most precious thing in this universe. You can’t blame him for that. She absolutely is.
Jongho looks away for just a moment to look up at you from his place on the couch. His eyes are sparkling, and the way he smiles makes your heart melt and soar simultaneously. The look he gives you makes you feel like the most special person on the planet.
“What’re you looking at me like that for?” You chuckle, sitting down beside him.
“Thank you.”
“What did I do?”
“You gave me her. You exist in my life. I’m yours, and I couldn’t ask to be anything more than that.”
You go to reply, but your daughter starts to shift slightly in your husband’s arms. She makes a slight noise that’s hardly there. Jongho returns his attention to her. He sits back against the couch entirely and shifts her tiny body to rest against his chest, head resting against his shoulder. He shuts his eyes, hoping to get a few minutes of sleep while she rests.
You smile at the small interaction. Jongho looks exhausted, you probably do too, but he looks absolutely gorgeous right now in your eyes. He fits his role as a father so well, and you wouldn’t want to experience this with anyone else in the world, even if you could. He pats her back lightly, lulling her back to sleep.  He can feel your eyes on him, though, and peeks one open to look at you. It takes mere moments for him to fully open his eyes again and turn his face toward you.
“What?” You ask again.
“You look beautiful.” He states simply.
You feel butterflies erupt in your stomach, but try to cover your reaction with a humorless chuckle, “Sure, Jongho, I’m sure. I haven’t been able to shower in a few days, my hair looks like a bird’s nest, I have stains on my shirt from feeding and just lactating and-“
“You’re always beautiful.”
You blush slightly at his comment, “S-shut up, give me her. I’ll need to feed her soon.”
“Ten more minutes?” He asks with a slight pout.
“I’ll burst if I go ten more minutes. You get five.” You smile.
Jongho makes a face that you immediately know how to read. You lean over, and just as you’re about to kiss his cheek, he turns and gently pecks your lips. He giggled at your slightly shocked face.
“You go rest a little. You deserve to relax. I’ll bring her to you in five minutes, as promised.”
You nod with a quiet thank you. You start making your way to the nursery. You might as well be in your rocking chair just in case you fall asleep.
“Babe.” Jongho calls; you turn to face him, “I love you so much. Thank you.”
You smile sweetly, “I love you too. You’re already an amazing papa bear.”
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COPYRIGHT STARLITMARK 2023© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — reposting/modifying any fic or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations are not permitted. 
Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @kwritersworld​ @k-vanity​
Tag List strikethrough = unable to tag: @jaehunnyy​  @brattybunfornct​ @roseforseonghwa @spiderrenjunfics @umbralhelwolf​ @ericssmile​ @honeyhuii​ @tarutarumilk
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ghuleh-recs · 23 days
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In honor of the wonderful @angellayercake's birthday I've made us all a mixtape of some of her greatest hits (in my humble opinion)! She is such a lovely, adorable, talented, and kind person. It is common knowledge that Cake writes the Terzo of all time. He is a fully realized human person in her work--funny, flawed, and dreamy as fuck. In the list below you'll find incredible characterization, enchanting romance, and smut that will make your brain melt right out of your damn head. Please consider leaving a comment or two as a lil bday gift for our girl! She deserves it ♡
recs under the cut!
Kiss me just to kiss me - Terzo x Reader - G, 900 words
Papa struggles not to let his mask slide in front of a sibling of sin.
Banchetto - Terzo x Reader - E, 22.1k (wip)
Papa Emeritus III is struggling to adapt to his life after the Ghost project but perhaps some good homemade Italian food will do the trick.
Pastimes for a Retired Papa - Terzo x Reader - E, 21.9k
So in my mind the Papas were not murdered they all just moved away from the main base of the Ministry to enjoy their retirement. Primo is definitely in the place that has the best gardens tending to his beloved plants. Secondo moved to a bustling city where he could party to his heart's content. But what of Terzo? Our darling Papa III, so dedicated to the proliferation of the female orgasm. Where would he choose to spend his retirement? You, a stressed and overworked woman who has just been recommended the services of The Ministry's Spa Resort, may be about to find out.
Give Me Your Best Copper Kiss - Cardinal Copia x Reader - E, 9.3k
You have spent your whole adult life at the Abbey thinking that the Church of Satan would allow you to fulfill your life calling but so far you had been disappointed. The arrival of a new Cardinal at the Abbey renews your passion for your faith and you hope he will bring the change you have been craving. And that you will be the one to help him.
The perks of working for Papa - Terzo x Reader - E, 1.5k
After a hectic morning Papa asks his assistant to have breakfast with him. (read part 1 here!)
from this slumber you will wake when true love's kiss the spell shall break - Terzo x Reader - M, series
Attending to the Veneration of Relics is a time consuming if boring task for a newly appointed sibling of sin and you can't help wondering what was so special about the Emeritus brothers, especially the Third.
Pomegranate Noir - Terzo x Reader - E, 4.8k
Papa Emeritus III knows the perfect way to unwind after a stressful day. Will you be willing to assist?
Si Padrona - Cardinal Copia x Reader - E, 5.2k
Copia, femdom, ass worship, pegging. Thats it!
𖤐 you know the drill: bookmark, read, and leave kudos/comments!
Did I forget your favorite? You've got a standing invitation from me to add your own rec and reblog ♡
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antoinettedoodles · 20 days
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Hi!!💞💕💞💕 I really love your art😭😭😭
Can I ask you to come up with a baby for them please?🥺👉👈 My Shishio and Epel! Ofc, if it is comfortable for you!!💗💗💗
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Take care of your time~ I hope you have a wonderful day🥰🥰🥰
EYYYY HELLO, OYA— Nice to see Shioshio in my ask box 🤭 I was so excited to get into this because I had an amazing idea for ShiPel/EpeHio already- Hope you like it!
Ask Box
Yuusona x Canon Character Child
Meet Kitsu!
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Shioshio x Epel Felmier
Personal Thoughts: O r a n g e
If Epel is an Apple, Kitsu is an orange, I dont make the rules and thus, made Kitsu everything orange like Papa Shio! And even chose a Japanese name for him! (Which literally means orange/tangerine), originally, I wanted Clementine but honestly, that can go to another ShiPel sibling (I know damn well Epel is gonna have a big family)
In terms of Dormitory, I cant decide whether I wanted Kitsu in Pomefiore or Heartslabyul but I like seeing him in red, so Heartslabyul it is!
˳೫˚∗ Please give a heart and follow if you like my work!
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rinbowaman · 10 months
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S E 7 E N : R E C K O N I N G P A R T 1 N E
WARNINGS: Religious references (both accurate and inaccurate), mentions of cannibalism, rape, murder, grotesque deaths, demons, angels, heaven and hell, conspiracy, abuse of authority, cruelty behavior, sinister and sadistic main character, threats of death, threats towards women, time travel, sexual fantasies, religious/sacrificial death/offering, God, the Devil, 7 o Princes of Hell, 7 Deadly Sins.
The text in purple are song lyrics.
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The next day, you woke up as usual and conducted your regular routine. You showered and found yourself staring in a daze as the water coats your body. 
‘Tomorrow…..tomorrow I will no longer be here…I'll no longer be alive....’
You felt like crying…you felt like screaming…you felt like running and releasing every inch of emotional energy you could think of. 
But you couldn’t…your body froze internally and you couldn’t think let alone feel. 
‘Lily….is this how you felt? No wonder you were so stoic…poor girl….it wasn’t your fault….it really wasnt….we really…are just two moths that were drawn to the flame…and burned.’
You finished up and made a cup of tea, nothing out of the ordinary….nothing. 
Maybe this was all a dream…a nightmare…maybe you’ll wake up any moment and look past all this. Maybe this was just a test, or a cruel joke…there has to be a rational explanation…people like Lily and yourself…just regular and innocent people…they can’t die like this….
Sipping on your cup, you looked at the phone Niki gave you. Reaching over to it, you opened up the contacts list and subtly released a breath.
Hitting the number displayed, you hold the phone to your ear and your insides felt light as the familiar tone of the line ringing came back to you in a manner that felt like deja vu. 
It had been so long, what with cell phones being banned, and you never did own or invest a landline, it was somewhat pointless considering after Lily had died, you hadn’t felt the need to reach out and talk to anyone…who was there to even call? You hadn’t really gotten to know anyone else, everyone had changed and became stagnant in the comfort of their own homes….they were too scared to live, out of fear that whatever they did, it would be considered a sin….your parents including....especially considering you never joined the cult.
When the line picks up, your heart sank upon hearing your fathers voice….
“Hello?”
‘It’s been too long…far too long.’
“P-papa?”
“….y/n!…my girl…where are you calling from? How are you able to....did you buy a landline phone?”
Tears streamed down your face, you couldn’t help it. 
“N…no…I um….and using a friends phone.”
“Y/n….don’t…don’t be putting yourself at risk! You need to be careful, who is this friend? Are they apart of the organization? Is it a landline? Cell phones are banned, you know that…” 
“I know…..but….I had to call…I have to tell you something…”
He stayed silent on the other end.
You filled the air with the stuttering cries as they slowly escaped your lips…you tried your best to maintain composure….you really did....for the sake of your parents...you tried to be strong for them.
“Daddy….tomorrow…..I…” you paused as you raised your hand and covered your mouth for a second as you began sobbing. “Im going to die tomorrow….”
You heard nothing but a long unsteady sigh as it became evident that he was choking up his own sobs.
“……so it’s true then….your mother and I heard about you being selected….we kept telling ourselves that it wasn’t true…not you….there was no way that my daughter could have been selected…..you’ve never done anything….like Lily….” 
Upon him mentioning your best friends name, you winced your eyes as you started to cry aloud. 
He also began sobbing and for a moment, no words were exchanged as you both cried. 
“How can this happen?….my girl please tell me that there was some sort of mistake…please tell me that it wasn’t your name on the message….not my daughter…not my y/n…” he cries out. 
You built up your composure as you started to talk again. 
“Papa…please listen to me….I’m sure…I’m sure you and mama are not going to watch it go down….but I know you’re going to hear about it….just know…if I don’t die by the angels…..just know that I’ll always love you and mama and my siblings…I don’t know what exactly is going to happen but…”
“What do you mean? Are you saying there’s a chance you’re not going to die??” There was a slight bit of confusion and hope in his voice. 
“…….yes…well…sort of…..I will die either way but…I just…”
“……y/n…..what’s going on?…..do you have something to tell me?” His tone was steady. 
You looked out your window and closed your eyes for a moment, the warm tears escape through your closed lids as you took in a steady breath before continuing…
“I….I made a deal….with someone that…that says he’ll save me….but in return…I have to go with him…” 
“………”
Everything went silent for a moment before your father panicked his words. 
“W-what are you saying? Y/n what is going on? What is this person you’re talking about? Is he a part of the organization? Does he work for the Senator?” 
“…….no……”
“……then who?….who is he…who did you make this deal with?”
“......The Devil....I made a deal with the Devil….”
……………..
You broke down and sobbed louder than you ever had, even more so than when Lily had passed. He didn’t say anything but his silence said it all.
“I-I’m sorry papa….I don’t know….I don’t know how to explain it…..the past 6 days I’ve learned so much and yet I know nothing…I’m so confused and I don’t know what’s going to happen.” You gasped out in between sobbing pants. 
“Please….please papa tell me what to do…say something because I need my father more than ever right now….please…I don’t know what to do or how to feel…”
“……..I don’t know what to say…..i….how? Y/n….the Devil? Have you gone crazy? Why are you talking that way? Why would you say this? Do you know what they would do to you if they heard you right now??I’m sure it was just a mad man you spoke to but still….you can’t say something like that….”
“It’s true though….papa it wasn’t a mad man…he really was…..I’m just….please understand that tomorrow if I don’t die by the angels…..please just know that I did what I did….not because I’m afraid to die…I am but I was more than willing to accept it… I made the deal because if in the case….if he does come for me….you…mom…and the rest of the world will be safe again…..everything will go back to normal…..I’m willing to make that sacrifice….please just know that.”
He remained silent. You’re not sure if he was angry, disappointed or confused…maybe all of the above. 
“…..your mother just walked in….you should talk to her….but don’t mention anything that you just told me….”
Handing the phone over to your mother, the familiar sound of her voice made you break down all over again, as did she. 
You abided by your fathers demand and didn’t say anything about your deal with Heeseung….but you did confirm about being selected when she had asked. She fell to pieces, her cries could be heard in the background as your father takes the phone and continues the conversation. 
“…….we love you….we always have…we had wished that you would have joined the organization but after witnessing what happened with Lily…..I suspect that sin or no sin…we are all doomed….I just never would have wanted for you to go before us….y/n….”
“I know……I’m sorry papa. Please know.....I never did anything…I’m not perfect but I truly lived life and represented you well as your daughter…just know that….”
“I know my girl….I know…”
With deep sighs and breaths of teary gasps, you finally had to end the conversation after finding yourself unable to bear any more. 
“I love you so much. Always know that, you and mama…”
“We know….we love you too….I wish we could see you….please…..please know we love you so much…..”
It took numerous tries to hang up as you found it hard to let go, as did he. Finally, unable to cope and hear your voice any longer, you heard your father sob as he clicked the phone off. 
You sat and merely kept the phone next to your ear for a minute or two….silently sobbing.
‘…..I don’t know how…I don’t know why this is happening….all I know…all I feel is that six days ago…far away I heard the call…of a heart that sang a song like mine…it’s melody drew near and suddenly, we were in perfect harmony. I know that it beckons to me…from a land that’s not part of this world…yet I know I must follow…wherever it leads me….wisdom only comes with time. The road to love is paved with broken hearts. If I am to reach my goal, and protect those that are dear to me…I must stake everything, in my true destiny, no matter what the price…’
As you mentally issued your internal will, you stepped out to your balcony and took in the sight of the wide sky before you. 
‘Should I just jump off to my death? What will happen timid I died prematurely? I’ve thought about it so many times but then….if I did that…if in the chance he and his brothers are for real…would he still come and get rid of the angels? Or would he abandon everything because I abandoned it first? What would happen to my family? I’m left with no choice but to take the risk and die by either their hands…or his…’
Resting your forearms against the rail, you gazed down from the third floor your apartment raised on. You admired how everything looked so small, the people, the cars, and the trees. 
‘Is this what everything would look like from Heaven? If I had died and became a part of Gods kingdom, would I have been an Angel? Would I be able to fly and look at the view of the world from above?’ 
As you relaxed into the pensive composure of your mindful thoughts, you didn’t realize or hear the sound of your front door opening. 
The last thing you had seen was the clear blue sky….before a shadow of darkness coated your entire head and you felt the forceful grip restraining your body as they dragged you away from your apartment. You kicked and screamed. You heard their voices as one issued out orders to hurry up and take you into the vehicle, where you were driven away. 
You don’t know how long of a drive it was. After succumbing to exhaustion from trying to break free, you felt them tie your feet and hands together, practically throwing you in what you assumed was the back seat as you felt the leather seating and the seatbelt buckles. 
“We have her…...right.”  You heard the unfamiliar voice…assuming he was speaking into a phone. 
“We are to take her into the church, she is to stay there for the night.” The voice issues, followed by an acknowledge response from what you assumed was the driver, based off what you could gather from their conversation. 
‘The..church?’ 
With whatever energy you had, you attempted to struggle yourself free upon feeling them removing you from the vehicle, and dragging you away. 
You felt the stone tiles beneath your bare feet as they took you in to a massive room, or so you think as the echoes of your cries as well as their foot steps sang throughout the entire area. 
Taking you up a series of stairs, you were picked up as you felt multiple hands grab you and elevate you from the ground as they carried you. 
Finally, after being carried away, they threw you on to the stone cold floor, rather roughy as you felt the pain of landing on your shoulder and hips without any motion to break the fall. 
“Is this her?” A woman’s voice emerged. 
“Yes.”
“Hmph….a witch indeed.” 
‘…..witch?’ 
Removing the bag that was placed over your head, you saw the elder woman studying you as the group of men depart. 
“Don’t even think about doing anything funny. There are guard everywhere and I will have no issues in calling them should you not follow my orders….you filthy whore.”
Glaring at the woman, you studied the room as it looked to appear as some sort of dungeon. The walls and floors were all made of stone tile just as you suspected. The windows were all barricaded by metal bars without any glass, and the only furnishings that existed was a small wooden table, chair, and a pile of hay straw off in the corner. 
“Where am I?” You asked in a deep and steady tone.
“You are in the Ecclesia Sanctorum, the church of Holy Saints. Your execution tomorrow will be on full display for the entire world to view, since you are the most offensive sinner that has yet to die at the hands of Gods holy soldiers.”
You blinked and paused your shifting gaze as you looked into her eyes. 
“What?”
“Are you deaf as well?” She speaks harshly. “You are to be cleansed and prepped here before we take you to the location of where the angels will come to execute you. A priest will attend to your final prayers. You will be an example to all, as the greatest sinner.”
“You…you people are sick….there’s something wrong with all of you…can’t you see that this is wrong?” You spat out as you glared back at her. 
“Sounds like something a witch would say…how dare you plague Gods own country with your evil  filth…disgusting piece of trash.” She grits out before she exits the room. 
Bind by the ties that restrained you, you shifted yourself free and quickly made way to one of the portholes that allowed you to view the outside. 
Looking out through the metal bars, you realized based off the entire view of the city, that the church you were in was the largest amongst all in the entire area. 
From afar, in the middle of the main road, a large platform was being put together, resembling a stage for a concert or performance. Yet you knew it was far from being an entertainment setting…at least for you. 
Looking around, there was no way for you to escape. You were too high up, the windows barred, and the door was locked securely. The slight bit of voices on the other side of it made you aware that the elder woman was not bluffing about guards remaining spread throughout the church. 
As night fell, you sat on the stone tile directly center in the prison space they had locked locked you in. The discomfort didn’t matter, from where you sat, a clear view of the moon could be seen at the angle from where you positioned yourself. Your knees remained close together slightly propped up for you to rest your forearms on as you dipped your head low. 
‘This….is really my last night alive…in this cold and dark room….in this church….this....prison....'
You dipped in and out of consciousness as you slept on and off. It was still awfully dark outside, the moon and stars remained in full view when that abrasive woman came back with a small group of younger women trailing behind her. They had to be in their mid to older teen years, all of them adorning the same black attire with the badge of the cult symbol. Their hair all tied in a tight bun. 
“Hmm…prescribing the last bit of your witchcraft? Pitiful…” she scoffs out as she notices you sitting on the stone floor, facing the secured porthole in front.
“Clean her body, prepare her for the ceremony but make sure you cleanse yourselves afterwards. No matter how much you scrub her down, her body will still be filthy, don’t let it rub off on you.” The woman scolds out as you watched each young woman nod timidly. 
They grabbed you and stood you up. Taking you into the next room, passing by a series of security guards, they positioned you in the center of an old washing station. It surprised you that it still worked, yet the water was cold….too cold. 
You winced in pain as the cold water felts as if it was piercing through your skin, and the harsh scrubbing of their bristled pads were applied roughly as each young woman cleansed your naked body with old ivory bar soaps, and dried you with a rough cloth. 
Taking you back into the room you remained in throughout the night, one girl brings in a single white fabric, appeared to be made of chiffon. It was a long skirt that touched the floor and trailed behind as you walked. It was terribly long and the deep high slit on the right side didn’t provide much cover considering you didn’t have any undergarments on. 
They left your breasts exposed, at the mercy of your long hair to cover it so long as it remained in place. 
With a crown made of Azaleas, which according to what you overheard from the elder woman, was a sacred flower in the Bible, they placed it atop your thatch of silky strands as the subtle waves of your hair draped passed your shoulders and chest. Your ankles and wrists were adorned with brass cuffs, all of which contained a single loop ring. There was a type of  Biblical scripture that decorated them, though you had no idea what it entailed. 
“Hmm…you look angelic…but we all know that that’s part of your evil charm.” The elder woman exclaims. Upon closer inspection of her badge, she was one of the lead regulators within the cult. 
“What is all this? What’s going on?” You asked in frustration as you remained scantily dressed. The long skit was transparent, despite the layers of chiffon fabric, it remained see through as the silhouette of your hips and legs could clearly be made out. Your entire right leg and thigh fully exposed as you moved from the lengthy slit.
“Your execution will be in our history books. You are to die wearing only the white cloth and the holy flowers that is close to God, it will show the public that even after living a life filled with sin, we the organization, take every preparation into consideration to ensure your passage to his holy rightful judgment, that we aid in saving your soul….it will help the Senator in his mission to gain the trust of the world….”
You scoffed. “You’ve got to be kidding me….your ‘organization’ is nothing but a hypocritical joke…your Senator is a criminal and you all are too blind to be aware of it. Whatever makes you feel better about yourselves and sleep at night…right?” You spat out with a glare as you watched the elder woman restrain herself from striking you down. 
“You tainted…evil bitch. If you weren’t set to die I'd kill you myself…” she grits between her teeth. 
“Go ahead! You and your Senator are nothing but a disgrace to humanity! You’re using me, and all others for your own advantage….whatever, go ahead….” You paused as you crossed your arms to cover your bare breasts. 
“If he truly does come…and takes me away….I hope from the high Heavens to the depths of Hell that he does away with all of you in the worst way possible….you should pray the he doesn't ask me....because if he does…I’ll make sure to let him know that you, the Senator, and the other high authorities figures of this terrible cult... should all burn.” 
You’re not sure what came over you, normally you weren’t the hostile type, yet as the rays of the sun peered through the open portholes, signifying the moment of your death was breaching nearer, you lost all sense of composure. 
“Leave her! She will get what’s coming to her…” the woman shouts out as one of the younger girls rushed up from behind to lash out at you for your displayed moment of disrespect. 
Your eyes grew glossy and the burn of tears built up. Your face was angry and expressed all sorts of resentment, even though you were accepting what was coming, it hardly meant that you weren’t scared or upset….in fact, you were terrified. 
Gazing off to the side, you zoned out at the patterns of the stone wall when the elder woman spoke out.
"You know...when he chose you and told the angels your name....at first I couldn't understand why he was so riled up over a young woman. I figured his pride was just hurt from being rejected....more or less being injured beyond repair. But now that I look at you....and hear those despicable words that come out of your mouth...I'm glad he gave up your name." she issues out as she lets out a victorious chuckle.
".....what do you mean.....he gave the angels my name?"
"Oh poor stupid girl....you really think that you all were selected at random? I mean...sure, those before you were....from a list that the senator would choose out personally himself......and each time he summoned the angels....he gave them a random name from the public directory. Once the government gave him their fullest support, it allowed him more access to people of various age groups, ethnicities, and culture backgrounds. That only enhanced his message of how God was cleansing the world."
Your eyes began to widen more than ever, glossed over as you couldn't believe what you were hearing.
'This man.....this woman...these.....monsters....they did this? They did this to the world?....All those children...mothers...fathers...brothers...sisters...daughters...and sons....they chose people....innocent people to die.....in those terrible ways?.....'
Your legs began to shake as you felt yourself stumbling down, yet you caught yourself and remained standing. Placing your hands on your hips, you leaned forward and shifted your head off to the side, trying to take in deep breaths.
"You.....you people.....you did this....." you stuttered out.
"Had you just been obedient and gave yourself to the Senator, much like the others did before you, you would have been spared...but I guess you rather give yourself up to evil men who represent Hell....multiple in fact. How many were there? Six? You filthy whore..."
"STOP CALLING ME THAT!" you yelled out. Glaring right at her, you narrowed your eyes as you issued your decree.
"If I go to Hell tonight.....I promise you....I will do everything in my very being to make sure that you people see my face when he shreds you to pieces!"
She merely scoffs as she side smirks at your angry expression and threat. "Your words of warning will not work here. We are in God's own church....we are his carriers that spread his rightful name and will. You will die....and you will suffer. The Senator has made sure to request a special treat for you when he last spoke to the angels."
At that, she turns and quickly departs as she hastily locks the door.
'........How could they?......No wonder he and his brothers disagreed with God when he wanted to create people...look at us......we're monsters to each other...'
.....................................
The sun was setting, and they finally brought you outside as you noted the large gathering of the public. They all surrounded you as the guard members, the priest, and the elder woman with her posse all issued out commands for everyone to remain back and away from you.
"Get back! She is the most evil of all sinners, you must not get close at all!"
Yet many of them ignored the commands of the cult authorities as they reached out with Azaleas and Crucifix’s in hand, grazing your skin with them as they spoke out in prayer for your soul to be saved.
.....................
'God save this sinner.'
'Cleanse her soul so that she may be saved.'
'Let her soul bide by the will of God....otherwise send her to Hell where she belongs.'
......................
You couldn't exactly hold any grudges or blame to the people....what with bending to the fear of being selected for execution...a brutal one at that, you couldn't help but sympathize as they all were falling for the tricks of that ruthless man and his most devoted followers.
'If only these people knew the truth....'
The regulators dragged you through the street. Upon reaching the large platform that was built from earlier, stationed on the surface were two large holy statutes.
Setting you directly at the center, you realized what those loop rings on the cuffs were meant for as they secured a chain to each one. THe chains were connected to the statues to your left and right, providing only enough slack for your to place your hands center on your body, but not enough to touch and remove the chains that bind you.
You heard the whispers of the crowd as they gathered to take a closer look.
.......................
'She looks like an angel....'
'Look at what the Senator is willing to do...even for someone who committed the greatest offense to God.'
'Of course she's beautiful....that's the reason why! I heard she slept with six different men in a week's time....'
'A whore and a witch...so beautiful but that is a part of her deadly charm.'
'Rest easy sinful dark child.....rest in peace soon.'
........................
You kneel down and slightly hunched over as you cradled your breasts with your arms. The delicate rattle of the chains is all you can hear as you shut out the terrible words that were spoken about you.
'I.....didn't do anything....if anything....i made a choice to save you all.....at least I was....I am willing to.....yet you all don't see me for who i am.....'
In their own eyes, you looked ethereal...like a scared angel as you remained kneeling and leaned forward. Your hair drapes downward and reaches the ground as your back becomes fully exposed. The Azalea crown atop your head, a deep red as it matched the shade of your lips.
Your eyes open as you hear the voice of the Senator...speaking above from the balcony of a tall building that overlooked the city.
"People of the great city! Today will mark a milestone in our nations history, as we have discovered the most offensive sinner yet......but we are here to pay tribute to this sinful and savage child as she will be executed by God's own guardians. I ask that you all say a prayer for her soul to be saved, as her crimes against God had been one of the most displeasing. Pray for her soul, and witness the acts that God's soldiers will carry out should you sin....take her death as an example for what will happen, should you or your children commit sin."
'.....This can't be happening....I....I didn't do anything....'
..............
Silence ensued as the crowd all knelt down and began offering their prayers. Minutes had gone by as the sun continued to set....leaving you the bright red sky.
Suddenly, a loud screech can be heard from afar. Then another....and another....
'.....there's more than one?....'
The Senator speaks out once more as you processed your mental thought.
"Good people.....watch at how God treats the sinner's who offend him....witness as he has become greatly displeased and angry at the betrayal of this young woman...whom he graciously, like the rest of you, loves and cherish...yet she not only tarnishes his holy divinity and name...this woman had the audacity to harm those who serves him and does his work."
Peeling your sight off the surface of the platform, you raise your head as your arms remained crossed over your breasts, your mouth slightly gapes open as one by one, each metallic humanoid figure flew in and landed at a great distance from the stage.
One....two...three....six......eight...ten....
Soon, there were more than fifteen or twenty of them that landed. Each morphing their extremities into something tortuous and terrifying...all to rip, pierce, and tear off flesh from bone.
'........so this is how it will end....my God....I am scared...I am frightened beyond measure.....please.....just get this done and over with.....'
.................................
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Seven thousand years ago.....
"Heeseung...the muses are here...." Jake speaks as he calmly approaches the elder brother, who rests on his throne with the speckles of blood on his face. His fingers coated with bits of flesh and blood clots from whatever it was he tore to pieces.
"Uh huh....." he merely issues as he leans back into his seat.
The three muses, the guardians and mentors of Helel...or Heeseung, steadily approach the young man that they raised and loved...yet saw the darkness in his heart had changed him into something far worse than a killer. He became the very thing that nightmares were made of.
"Helel....we-"
"Iiiiiiii......prefer that you call me Heeseung...." he cuts off.
"....Heeseung......you know why we came?...."
"I have an idea...." covering his eyes with his bloodied hand, he leans back with only his nose and mouth remaining exposed. An evil grin coats his bright red lips as he chuckles out with a slaughtering tone.
"So what?....does he really want to make peace or is he trying to change my mind again?" Heeseung peeks a wide and glaring eye between his fingers as he coats his upper lip with his tongue. The muses all felt their weight drop upon the unsightly horror that was before them.
'So.....evil.....so dark and sinister.....how insidious this man is....to think he was the beloved and first archangel of God...'
"He wanted us to show you...to appeal to your senses as the first and most notable archangel of his Heavenly kingdom."
"Aaah...." Tsking in air through his teeth, Heeseung looks down at the ground before presenting his most unpleasantly horrifying gaze back to the lead muse.
"Appeal to my senses huh?" he chuckles once again, each time he issued it, it became even darker and more disturbing in nature.
"How about I just rip you both to pieces, starting with your feet, working my way up to your heads....and I'll take her...." he points to the lady muse, "and feed her virginity to those hungry demons beneath my feet? hmm?"
"Heeseung....." all three muses bow down. "Please.....give us the chance to show you his vision...his sight....it is his most desired request. You've killed off all of the other archangels, with the exception of Jol......yet he bears no ill will....he still is trying to show you....please....show us what his love has purchased....let us show you. After, we will leave and never appear before you again."
Upon hearing the muses, all six brothers stood by them as they spoke out in high respect to the eldest archangel.
"Heeseung....you know we are on your side no matter what.....would it be wrong if we express that it would only be fair for you to hear them out....perhaps there might be something to your advantage....." Jungwon and Jake spoke out, all in earnest as they kneel down.
"Like what?....what could possibly be in it for us? we're already banned from the one place that we called home....disowned by those that raised us.....what could he possibly have done to change my mind?" Heeseung scoffed out.
At the last bit of his sentence, the three muses, while remaining bowed down, all glanced at each other with a look that indicated a knowledge that wasn't shared with anyone...
The remaining brothers present themselves and spoke out alongside Jake and Jungwon.
"Heeseung....wouldn't it be best to hear them out...than to dismiss or slaughter them and to not know what it was that they were sent here for? Wouldn't it cause turmoil to wonder for eternity what he is wanting to show you?"
Rolling his eyes as he bites down on his finger, he glares wide eyed to the three muses.
"My brothers all seem to be adamant about this...I wonder if it is truly out of their own curiosity or if there is another meaning behind their intent..." Heeseung's glare shifts from the muses over to his brothers who remained kneeling in a straight row.
"No.....we would never treat you in that manner.....we only appeal to you as we still hold respect for the elder muses....they were the ones that raised you....and us. There would be no harm in allowing them to deliver God's message....that is all." Sunghoon spoke out calmly as he stares at the base of the throne that Heeseung rested on.
"huh.....for fuck sake...." tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair, Heeseung didn't issue his decision...not yet.
Cracking his neck as he shifts it from left to right, back to front and back to center, his eyes closed as he gasps out slight chuckles at the harshness of each sound effect that punctures the air in his realm.
"Who are they.....darling?" she walks out sensually, stark naked.
Heeseung merely shifts his head, looking off to the side on the ground as the succubus approaches from behind. With only an aloof expression on his face that suddenly replaced the twisted grin, he remains quiet as the demoness graces her presence to the audience before him.
Upon hearing her approach, all six brothers slightly snarled. Heeseung's favorited mistress was here, displaying no sign of respect or courtesy towards the muses, which didn't sit well with any one of them....or Heeseung.
Despite that he was murderous in nature, especially at the sight of Heaven's guardians, which brought out memories that both, pleased and pained him, it didn't deter the fact that they were not received well by him, without an ounce of respect. However, it also didn't mean that all those beneath him shouldn't render instant courtesy and obedience.
The muses merely stared with awkward looks as the demoness stands off to Heeseung's side. Her hand grazes over the intricate carving of his throne as she raises a bent knee and hovers it over Heeseung's lap, as if she was shifting to sit atop and straddle him.
"Are these old friends of yours?" she smirks out as her rather full and curvaceous figure adorns him gracefully.
Looking down at him as she remains standing, Heeseung places a hand atop her thigh as she fully swings it over his lap. Looking up at her with a closed-mouth smirk, he raises two fingers and suggestively signals for her to lower herself down to him.
Leaning in, she prepares to come in for a kiss.....much to the horror of everyone around, it became apparent that Heeseung was either annoyed, angry, or just fed up with the presumptuous attitude of his lead mistress.
The muses winced their vision shut and turned their heads away as they heard the agonizing screams and the tearing of flesh, the dislocating pops of bone and cartilage. He started by grabbing on to her hair as he tore off her wings, before moving on to her arms, and then taking her by the ankles and ripping her apart, piece by piece.
With her disfigured remains in his grip, only her torso and head was left fully intact as she breathes out her dying tortured breaths.
"Oh 'darling'.....I kind had enough of you.....also....you never really pleased me." with his cold words, he tosses her limbs off of his high throne.
Sitting atop the large stoned mountain, with a series of stairs that extended miles long, starting at the base and reaching the top of the peak, his throne remained highest, above all in Hell. With the deep crevices below, he observes as he, his brothers, and the muses hear the terrible and frightening sound of the demons feasting on the flesh of the demonic maiden.
With her head remaining attached to her torso, he maintains his grip on whats left of her by her hair. Kissing her lips one last time, he detaches it from the main portion of her body and tosses the remains over.
"Alright then....show me what it is that he sent you over for. Pray that at the end of it, I'll be in a good mood to not kill all three of you." He issues as his gaze remains on the demons below. Smirking, he watches with amusement as the monsters all scurry like bugs, attacking and devouring the limbs he tosses over. Raising his hand, a large disbursement of raging flames emerge from below at the base of the mountain, burning all, the devouring demons and the flesh of the succubus to ashes, all the while he chuckles as the roaring cries of demonic forces fills the air.
Witnessing the most evil they had ever seen, the muses gasp in great horror as the brothers all remained stagnant with their expressions. To them, this was nothing out of the ordinary.
The lead muse in particular started to question if what they were sent to do...would make any difference after seeing the cruel nature of Heeseung and the acts he just committed.
'This man.....this first of all angels to be created....and we helped raised...the one that was closest to God....was favored by the divine king.....yet here he is.....he lives for death...he enjoys seeing it....his heart is too twisted....are we doomed for death by coming to his territory?'
......................
".....Why are we here?" Heeseung stood with his arms crossed. After being convinced by his brothers, the muses escorted the King of Hell to an unfamiliar site at the border between Heaven and Hell.
"He has asked that we show his creation of people, leaving us strict instruction to take you to seven thousand years time in advance....it was his strict orders for us to do so...." the lead muse uttered out, in hopes that Heeseung wouldn't become too riled at being brought to the alter of time, space, and universal continuum....all to see people....the creation that he disagreed with the holy king on.
"Are you ready, Heeseung?" the lead muse looks back as he observes the man looking completely indifferent with his arms still crossed. Dressed all in black, with knee high boots and a kneel length coat to match, he fit the defined description of the dark prince.
"Just....fucking do it already.....before I change my mind and tear your throat out." Heeseung irks out as he rubs his forehead.
The lead muse dismisses his threat as he continues to chant out a series of prayers before the alter. A glow of light rises and becomes brighter, enveloping the group into an orb as the electrical currents surrounds them in a globe of flashing light.
The muses all wince their eyes shut upon the light flashing into their eyes, yet Heeseung seemed unbothered as he merely stood and continued to stare out fully.
In a swift second, the globe envelops them completely. With a loud boom, the orb expands into nothing, disappearing along with Heeseung and the muses.
In a flash, feeling like as if they merely blinked, their eyes reopen and adjust to the unfamiliar surroundings of the current world and time.
"….Where the fuck are we?” Heeseung calmly states out in an irritated voice as he raises a brow.
“fret not, Heeseung. We have traveled through the continuum of space and time, nearly 7 thousand years into the future of the world you created, after the creation of the first man. The people have thrived in population and advanced their evolutionary talents. They have expanded into an heightened stage of cultural application in regards to engineering methods and knowledge, known as ‘technology’.” The lead muse explains as Heeseung walks with crossed arms, confusingly admiring the tall buildings, the scenery of the bustling streets of the city and the combination of modern and old century architectural design.
With the passing of the large crowds, blindly unaware of their presence, Heeseung displays a look of annoyance as the myriad of people walk past.
“you brought me through the advancement of time…to show me this?….THIS….is what he wanted you to show me??? THIS is what he thinks is going to enlighten me??” Heeseung spoke with wide and gruesomely angry eyes.
“the very thing that I disagreed with him on…which ultimately became the reason why I left the high Heavens….is this some kind of joke? Is he trying to mock me?” He takes his steps slowly towards the three muses, glaring into their eyes with the most evil sense they’ve ever witnessed.
“please Heeseung, as your former mentor, I beseech you to spare us your time and allow us to do what we were asked to do…” the lead muse exclaims as he stands before the other two younger muses.
“Choose…old man…choose which one of you I should rip open and cut to pieces…” Heeseung leans in, snarling at the upper lip. “I'll allow two of you will go back...so choose wisely."
The lead muse stood bravely with shaking eyes as he once more, appealed to Heeseung’s familiar appeal, hoping to get past his cruel nature.
“please…allow us to show you…should you find no change in your heart, you can take me. Sever my head from thy body and send it back with the two other muses…” the lead muse spoke out, his fortitude against the Dark Prince earned a gasping shock from his two disciples.
Heeseung’s wide eyed glare remained, yet the gritting of teeth through the sadistic grin and look of twisted amusement displayed a sense of pleasure as he looked forward to shredding the one who raised him, knowing that the elder muse was one of the closer guardians to his former master.
“very well old man….killing you would hurt him deeply. It will be my pleasure to separate your spine from your body and rip the skin off your flesh by the end of this fucking atrocity you got me entangled in.” He remarks harshly at the last bit as he side eyes the view of the people that continue to walk pass.
All three muses nod in discouragement as they regained their composure, trying their best to remain hopeful and trust in Gods will.
Noting as the Devil continuously expressed a look of disgust as the marching of the crowd surrounds them, the lead muse signals for him to follow as he guides Heeseung with detailed explanation.
“Be forgiving Heeseung, they cannot see nor hear us. We bid you to refrain from using your power to alter your perceptible vision afront of them….it is best that they do not know who we are or why we came.”
“huh…cunning old man, how wise of you to understand my capabilities….nonetheless, I have no intentions of making myself known to these shitheads.” Heeseung sighed out in annoyance as he remained standing still.
the muses led the way with a disgruntled Heeseung trailing behind, leaving his arms crossed and a harsh look of annoyance on his face.
“He wanted us to show you their capabilities…how they work together to build governments, some in the form of electoral democracy, others are permanently ruling with authoritarian standing. He also wanted us to show you their capabilities when it comes to compassion, nurtured behaviors....all angles of human behavior.” The lead muse continued as he guides and explain the advancement of people.
Disinterested, Heeseung rolled his eyes as he dazes off and imagined the various, grueling methods of killing people. “Fragile…aren’t they?” He asks with a wide eyed smirk.
“They are nothing like you or your brothers…they are delicate in the manner of flesh and time span of age. So, yes....they are quite fragile.”
“So that means, in a week’s time from now, when he creates the first of all people, I will have to induce slow torturous designs, so as to not kill them too quickly….riiiiiight?” He snarks out as he raises a hand to stroke his chin as he eyeballs a line of people waiting at a local food stand.
“Heeseung….as I am willing to give up my life for his will…I ask that you try…try and see the side of his vision…he created people to-“
“I KNOW…exactly...his claims as to why he created….people….” Heeseung sneers out as he cuts off the elder with a deep tone.
Clearing his throat, the lead muse didn't bother to entertain a response, he merely turns and continues, to the best of his ability, in showing off the greatness of people. The mortals that are capable of showing, teaching, and developing love.
Breaching an old historical building, the muses take note of the smell of freshly brewed coffee.
“Come…this way.” The lead muse signals to Heeseung with a gentle gesture.
Dragging the disgruntled Devil inside, they allow him a moment of silence as they watched the Dark Prince study the interior design of the establishment. The space was filled with so many people, yet they hardly interacted with one another. Instead, they had all been engrossed by the development of technology through the use of phones and tablets.
On the wide screen TV mounted on the wall, a local news media displays a covered interview with Michael Forras, all before he claimed the self title of "Senator" and when his cult gathering took on the ruling authority of the city.
“So you’re saying that a day of reckoning is near us?” The news reporter asks the cult leader.
“It is true….God has been displeased with the people and their offenses to his name…mark my words, Gods own, will ascend from the Heavens and cleanse the world within due time."
Upon hearing the interview taking place on the television, the muses slightly anticipated the reaction as they observed Heeseung noting the words the cult leader spoke out.
“Who is this idiot?” He asks, gazing a consumed glare to the elder muse.
“He is one who claims to be Gods servant. People are Gods greatest creation, yet they are far from perfection.” The elder exclaims.
Taking in a breath, he takes Heeseung’s attention away from the screen. “Do you see the contraptions over yonder? People have become ingenious within their own right and have developed the usage of machinery to create masterpieces that are both admirable and delectable. Take for instance, the method of developing this beverage, its scent alone is quite pleasant.” He nods over to the counter where the baristas work diligently to draft up each order as they call out the names of customers.
Walking up for a closer look, Heeseung did appear genuinely interested upon smelling the scent of the creation, known as ‘coffee’. It was a scent he’s never smelled before.
Leaning in with his arms remaining crossed, he inspects the transparent container that held the liquid in place. The elder muse continues to explain the craftsmanship of people, gaining a sense of accomplishment that the young Prince had seemed to take interest.
Yet the grudge he bore had cut deep into his soul, it didn’t matter how crafty people became, he refused to accept Gods hand in compromising a peaceful settlement.
Looking at the elder once more, Heeseung smirked as his eyes narrowed with mischief. “Listen old man…I could care less about how fancy these grueling idiots have become…I’ll devour them all…man, woman and child, it doesn’t matter." Pausing, he takes a step closer as he squares up the elder muse. Glaring, his eyes widened once more with an insidious grin that accompanies it.
"..and you…" biting down on his bottom lip, he all but nearly reached for the elder's throat.
“Order for y/n!”
You walk up to the counter, jacket looped over your forearm as you adorned yourself with a black form fitting dress, suitable for a career field, yet tastefully appealing as it subtly exposed the flesh and structure of your collar bones, the minor rise of your cleavage, and your legs, mid thigh to ankles. Your hair swayed as you took your steps, and reached up to the grab your drink. Without switching his gaze away from the muse, Heeseung continued to stare into the man’s eyes with a murderous grin, yet as you walked passed, right behind him, he caught the slight bit of your subtle scent. It was quite pleasing and differed from the rest that surrounded the area. A hint of lilac and rose, with sugar plum and pear extract…it wasn’t overpowering, but softly sweet.
He merely shifts his eyes to the side and looks at the ground after taking notice of the scent, as if he was zoning out to piece together the ingredients, yet he does not turn fully to look at the source of where the scent came from.
Upon noticing how just your scent alone caught his attention, the elder muse takes the chance to carry out his mission. He speaks out calmly. “Has something distracted you?….”
Shifting his gaze right back to the elder, Heeseung issues an expression of irritation at the audacity that his former mentor displayed.
“Are you seriously implying that a mortal caught my attention? As if I care? Did you forget why I fucking left his kingdom?” He spoke out lowly with a dark tone.
The elder's breath hitched at the sudden rise of chaotic anger within Heeseung’s heart.
“I mean no disrespect….Heeseung…he wants you to find happiness….you were the first son…the first archangel…and will forever be his favorite.”
Heeseung scoffs as he rolls his eyes. “You done?” He issues out with wide eyes.
“He wanted to present his gift to you…that is why we are here.” The muse slips out, all in desperation to reach through to the Devil.
……..
“Gift?…..” Heeseung raises a brow in confusion with his insidious eyes widening in anger. The muses remained silent.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me….the one thing that I despise….the very thing that ruined my everlasting love and respect for him….yet he dares to bribe me with one of them? As if that will mend the broken bond? ARE….YOU….TOYING..... WITH ME?....” Thrashing out a hand to his side, a blast of force and power expels from his hand and sets the confectionary stand on fire with raging flames.
The muses watch in despair as the people all gather in shock and fear of the strange phenomenon that occurred, yet have no idea as to how it happened since the small group remained unseen.
....................
“Oh my God….how…what happened?”
“Was it the heater?”
“We need to get a safety inspector out here!!!…How the hell did the entire counter catch on fire like that?!”
“Thank God no one is hurt."
"Did anyone else hear a large boom?"
“Where did the heat and fire come from? Did anyone see anything? It was as if it came out of nowhere…”
......................
The customers all rushed around in panic as they worked together to put out the flames.
“Where is she? The one that he intends to give up? This so called, ‘gift’?? I’m sending her body back in pieces, you will take her limbs and show him how much I really ‘enjoyed’ his 'present'.” He grits out.
“Heeseung we beseech you-“
“Shut up and bring her here!”
The elder muse kneels along with his two disciples behind him, shaking his head with glistened eyes, he proceeds to beg.
“I beg of you….as your former mentor and father figure….please Heeseung…don’t…”
Heeseung shifts his gaze to the elegant marbled stairway that led to the upper floor. Sensing your scent in that direction, he smirks as he flares down at the desperate muse.
“She’s up there, isn’t she?…..good.” Kicking the muse aside, he walks in the direction of your scent, leading the way as the despairing muses trailed behind.
“Heeseung please! You cannot! We beg of you!”
Ignoring their cries and pleas, he makes his way over to the third level. Turning to the left, he noticed the double doors leading to the grand library.
“Heeseung no!”
They follow in haste as he makes his way inside, not paying any mind as the muses beg, kneeling before him trying their best to appease his grudging nature as he walks swiftly past them.
Looking around, Heeseung’s irritation grows deep as the scent seemed to have disappeared.
The elder muse makes his way from behind the dark Prince and kneels before him once more.
“Heeseung…”
“Where is it? The fucking cunt? Where is she? Bring her to me right now…”
“I cannot! “
Walking up to the bold elder, Heeseung places his foot atop his hand, adding pressure and heat as smoke emerges from the bottom of his soles, melting the skin off as he adds more weight.
Wincing in pain, the elder remains as poised as he possibly could as he continues to appeal to Heeseung.
“P-please….you mustn’t…..you cannot…..”
“Where….is…..she?”
The muse looks up and witnesses the death glare as Heeseung slightly smirks, enjoying the view of pain in the elders face.
…….
“Oh! Hi y/n! You’re here early today.” The woman from the counter in front exclaims pleasantly, directing her words to you as you enter from behind the invisible group.
The elder's eyes grew terrifyingly wide as fear and hopelessness took effect. Watching as Heeseung’s eyes grew wide, his smirk also expanded, bearing teeth as he bites down his lip and chuckles.
“......That’s her behind me isn’t it?” He scoffs, his chuckle coming in more sinister than before.
“H-Heeseung…Helel….I beg you….please!” The elder desperately pleads.
Heeseung's chuckles grew louder. Stretching his neck as he did before, he closes his eyes as he cracks it from left to right, front to back, and center. “Oh elder one….when you present those bloodied limbs….tell him, ‘with best regards’ from his ‘favorite’…” a sharp chuckle emerges and he suddenly turns, his hand developing lengthy claws as he lunges out once he commits to a full turn.
“HEESEUNG NOOO!!!!”
……………
The sound of the wall cracking and burning, punctured completely through to the other side, all the librarians and staff shocked with screams and gasps as they look at the destruction of the wall behind you, right above your head.
When you're gonna stop breaking my heart
You stood with your head shifted to look at the wall behind you, taking in the view of the massive hole that suddenly appeared out of nowhere. You were so shocked, you didn’t even build up a reaction, not a single scream or yelp emerged out.
‘…..What just happened? Where did this hole come from? And why are there traces of ember and smoke? Did someone blast a cannon or some type of weapon?’
You wondered as you continued to stand and study the blasted alteration of the stone wall, completely unaware that right in front of you, the Devil stood....bewildered.
I don't wanna be another one
His frame leaned into your form with his nose and lips just a hair away from your forehead as his face leans inward from the bend at the base of his neck. His arm extending and hovered over you as his chest somewhat cradles you against the wall. A change in direction of his attack last minute upon seeing you, disintegrating the wall instead. He's there... right in front of you...yet you feel, see, and hear nothing….not his hitched breath, his wide eyes of shocking discovery, or his forearm touching your hair as it remains fully extended with his hand against the wall near the blast.
“y/n!! Are you okay?! Did something hit you??” one of the staff speaks out from behind him.
Paying for the things I never done
Turning your face back forward, where he gets the full view of it, he watches and slowly breathes out…his expression, was unlike anyone had ever seen. He was.....enchanted….
“Uh…yeah….what…was that?” You calmly spoke out with heavy lids, so exhausted from staying up late at night as you completed schoolwork and prep for exams.
Don't let go
“I don’t know…did anyone see anything? Y/n, are you sure you’re okay?”
You nod. He watches. He was so close to you….so close.
His eyes grew soft…his lids grow heavy as he stood with slightly parted lips and studied the remarkable features of your face….
‘Her eyes…her nose….her lips….her hair…her skin…her voice….her body….she’s so…..’
Don't let go To my love
The three muses stood behind, releasing a breath of relief as they note the reaction of the Dark Prince as he remained in place, admiring you.
“Master…..did we succeed?” One of the muses whispered out.
Nodding, the elder softly responds back….
“Yes….I believe we have….thank Heavens….”
I can fix all those lies But baby, when I run, I'm running to you You won't see me cry, I'm hiding inside My heart is in pain but I'm smiling for you
P A R T 2 W O
Taglist: @deobitifull; @solstramaii; @vampiregirl215; @nshmrarki; @enhypen14; @iamliacamila; @lisaaannna; @nikstrange; @jaehaki; @luv-enhy-skz33; @silcry @honeysjae; @crackedcameraa; @stinkmonkey ; @baekxo07 @raishaii @@yangjungwon33 @lhspeachie ; @differentchildwombat ; @prettykia ; @kimsseonu ; @stvrryhee ; @en-thralled ; @hoonzdzbl ; @yuppppp ; @jinniespuppy ; @talesofyuan ; @solstramaii
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runwayrunway · 1 month
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MISS CONENGINALITY - BRITTEN-NORMAN BN-2 ISLANDER
Remember when the UK made the best airplanes in the world? Me neither, I wouldn't be born for several decades. Anyway, Britten-Norman Islander.
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image: Air Seychelles
The last holdout of the UK making really fantastic planes, the Islander is a popular regional airliner and utility plane used for things like skydiving and air ambulance service as well as the typical passenger and cargo flights. At first glance she's a pretty regular high-wing twin-prop that seats 10, but look closer and you may begin to notice things.
Upfront, I love the Islander. (Obviously, or I wouldn't be making this post about it.) My love for this plane isn't solely organically developed, because it does also hold a special nostalgic place in my heart for being the first propeller plane I ever flew on, with Cape Air in 2015 from San Juan to Vieques. (As Vieques Air Link also operates these, they're a common sight down there! The name of the model is, as it were, very apt.)
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image: Cape Air This is the exact plane that I flew on!
Now, from this image you can already see that the Islander has some lovely features, from those absolute bollards coming out of the engines to the wildly pointy nose (not the first plane I've discussed that's giving DUKW), but despite looking goofier the closer you look at it this thing is an incredibly beloved and reliable plane.
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image: Bonham's Behold, a Britten-Norman BN-2 Islander.
Also of note is the Islander's extremely low wing aspect ratio, and I've always thought the tailplane looked a little too small for the tailfin from the side despite looking giant from below. The general ratios on this plane, in every single possible place, look just ever-so-slightly off, and I love it.
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image: Mark Harkin I mean. She's just blocks.
Still, this is an incredibly well-designed plane. It's cheap, rugged, utilitarian, reliable, versatile, and remarkably stable in flight, which is why over 1,000 have been built to date. (Personally, I didn't find the cabin to be the roomiest even for an aircraft of its size, but I remember it being a comfortable enough flight.) The Islander is still in production today despite first flying in the mid-1960s, which is something few models can claim. You can use an Islander for basically anything, with their big doors and STOL capability, and it's even used for the world's shortest flight and an entry on my bucket list, the two-minute hop between Westray and Papa Westray operated by Loganair.
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image: National Museum of Flight Scotland Despite being shown outside in this photograph, she currently lives in the civil aviation hangar, a top pick on my list of places I would like to secretly live in for the rest of my life.
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image: own work, taken inside the civil aviation hangar at the National Museum of Flight, Scotland
In late October I visited the National Museum of Flight, Scotland. It was an incredible experience and I will be discussing it across several future posts due to the sheer variety of preserved airframes they had, including everything from a Puss Moth to a jump jet. (The general museum will probably get a dedicated post as well in the future - suffice to say I had a fantastic time.) Among their preserved aircraft is a BN-2 Islander registered G-BELF, painted a vivid highlighter-yellow which pictures really can't do justice in homage to Scottish air ambulances which serve isolated island communities in the North Sea.
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I was absolutely delighted to see her in person. Seven years after I last stepped foot in an Islander, it felt like something of a reunion to just stand next to a mothballed airframe and admire how...really strange-looking these planes actually are.
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own work, obvi
I mean, for one thing, they're a lot shorter than you might think they should be. Pictured for scale is a 165cm/5'5" tall human with a PSA Lockheed TriStar for a face. I couldn't get that good of an angle on it, but my head is only a few inches short of the wing, and you can see that I'm well taller than the cabin windows. An entire Islander is shorter than a single Concorde tire.
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Plus, that wing chord is so long I could use her as a shelter in the rain.
So, yeah. That's the story of how I met my favorite commuter airliner. I hope to fly on one again someday, but for the moment I'll have to be content with looking at pictures of these weird-looking planes that can fool you for a moment into thinking they're regular.
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Also they tried to put propeller shrouds on one once.
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onedaughterofman · 1 year
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Sacrifice me (Papa Emeritus x g/n reader)
Summary: For tonight's ritual, Papa is tied down and on his knees. He's completely at your mercy and, to please the Old One, you must tease and deny him as hard as your heart desires.
Warning/tags: Any Papa you want. +18, sex, BDSM, sex toys, bondage, orgasm control/denial, aphrodisiacs, gags, flogging, dom/sub dynamics, ritualistic sex, satanism. 1.9 K words
A/N: I've been working on this for a while but tonight I drank a bit and decided... why not post it. Hope you like it. I proof read it after the wine, so there might be mistakes. Sorry.
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The chapel of rituals smells of incense and burnt candles. Dancing flames illuminate most of the room, casting shadows around the place. There’s a gentle, grave melody echoing on the walls, reaching your ears as you walk down the aisle.
The consecrated chants send shivers down your spine. Tonight the moon is full in the black sky, ghastly light sweeping in through the stained glass, bathing everything in a multi-colored gleam.
Everything, including him.
The air freezes in your lungs, expanding your chest as your feet halt. There he is, among the lights and shadows, white eye emitting a faint glow in the inky darkness. Papa remains in the middle of the altar, on his knees, arms bound behind his back to an inverted cross.
He’s naked, and his skin conserves a bit of a flush obvious even in the gloom. The paint on his face is already messy, thick drops of sweat falling down his forehead. The air is balmy around him, clouds of condensation forming every time he pants with an open mouth.
What a sight. Tonight, he’s not Papa.
No, tonight he’s an offering, a sacrifice.
There’s nothing in your tongue when you swallow. The leather clothes are snug on your body, slightly creaking with every move. This is an unhallowed ceremony, a necessary ritual meant to honor the Dark One and to bring prosperity and power to this Ministry. It has been imparted by chosen siblings since the beginning of the times, and tonight it’s your turn to do it again.
As always, Papa smiles upon noticing you approach the altar. His shoulders roll, muscles stiffening under the tight, flushed skin. A low grunt escapes his lips, reverberating into the ancient chapel before disappearing on the walls.
Tonight is the night. This ritual is long, intense, mind-blowing even. It’s one of the very few occasions someone like Papa will be at your mercy, when he won’t be getting it his way no matter how hard he tries to sweet talk and charm you.
No. Tonight you’ll tease, edge and deny him to your heart’s delight, until he’s nothing but a whimpering, teary eyed mess on this altar. From his suffering, the Lord will be satisfied. Both of you will supply him as much sexual energy as you can create.
Fucking for Satan, offering him a rough, intense sex ritual… You’re lucky to have been chosen by Papa years ago, as his partner, as his caretaker. He never regretted it. You can percieve it in his pupils as you get closer, riding crop burning on your hand. It has a contudent weight and flows nicely in the air when you use the tip to lift his chin.
Now, with him staring right into your soul, you can’t breathe. There’s a violent blush on his face, bold even under all the black and white paint. “Amore,” he states, sultry gaze assaulting your senses. “Every second I spent waiting for you it’s been tortuous.”
The warm, wet breath creates even more condensation around him. Fuck, he’s burning. It’s not a surprise, since the cocktail of aphrodisiacs and sacred herbs he drank earlier is doing full effect. His pupils are blown, nothing but never-ending dark holes inside his irises.
In them, you look at your own reflection. In them you are powerful, sacred, a divine sight.
“I hope you didn’t torture yourself that much, Papa,” you reply, in a hushed tone. The tip of the crop is replaced by your finger when you lean down. “That’s my job tonight.”
The weight of his sheer adoration and pure lust is heavy on your shoulders. So dense, you could drown into it. The excitement coming from his bare body strickes your skin in waves, one after the other.
“Do your worst,” Papa breathes out, voice a rumble in his chest. He’s aching to caress you, or to be touched, unconsciously pulling on his restraints to be closer to you, wishing to melt into your body. “I’m yours. Forever yours. Take me.”
The first strike of the riding crop makes him flinch. An angry, red mark appears on his chest, and he smiles. Through his clenched teeth, nothing escapes but a grunt. “Harder,” he purrs.
As much as you wish to indulge him, that’s absolutely not the way this ritual should go. The following strike is softer, a tickle on his skin. The tenderness of that gesture might be even worse than the pain, because this time all the air leaves his lungs in a prolonged blow.
Oh, he’s way too sensitive for his own good. High on lust and aphrodisiacs, his blood runs hot and wild inside his veins and arteries. You take it slow, teasing and caressing softly, tip of the crop followed by your nails hardly scratching at his skin. Papa’s gaze falls to the floor, jaw locked. The shadows make him look older, face gaunt and eyes nothing but deep pits of wantonness.
And yet, you take it slow. Your fingers ghost over the places he wants them the most, merely brushing the underside of his cock before slithering back up to his shivering stomach and heaving chest. Fuck, he’s feverish already, a thin coat of sweat covering him.
“You know the deal, Papa,” you murmur in his ear. Your fingers curl around his black crucifix, pulling on it until he’s forced to look back up. “I have to watch you burn first.”
Unhurriedly, his head nods. There’s fire in his gaze, excitement and thirst in his body language. Your heels click on the old floor when you move away, scanning the table searching for whatever tool you want to use tonight.
Papa gasp through his clenched jaw when you place it on him, fist closing around his aching erection. There’s precum already coating your hand, and you wipe it off on his chest before moving away. The low buzzing of the toy fills the silence, interrupted only by the distant, faint ritualistic music.
This time, the flogger weights in your hand. Your wrist moves swiftly, causing a loud noise to stab through the air. Papa grunts, pulling on the leather restrain, but he can’t escape from the mix of pain and pleasure you’re offering him.
Gradually, minute by minute, the sexual tension and energy build up. You know your Papa well, all these years together have taught you the telling signs of his orgasms approaching. You stop right before one, then do it again, and again, and again…
You lost count of how many times you have denied him of sweet release before a raspy moan escapes his mouth, muffled by his teeth. His messy face paint stains your fingers when you cup his cheeks, gently massaging in order to encourage him to relax his jaw.
“Do you need something to bite on?”
“It might be for the best, amore,” he replies, voice nothing but a whisper. “There’s still a long way to go.”
He’s right. The moon is still high in the sky, pale light illuminating the big stained glass behind his back. Bathed in unique colors, Papa looks ethereal, sacred. And oh, there’s nothing you wish to do more than to completely ruin him.
The bit gag is secured on his mouth. Those blown, dark pupils follow your movements with adoration, dark lashes fluttering evert time your fingers graze his skin. A part of you feels pity for him, on how he’s tied up to an inverted cross in the middle of the altar, covered in drool and sweat, painfully hard. But then, there’s that dense sexual longing in his eyes, that raw ardour that reminds you he wants this.
Fuck, he’s enjoying every second of it, worshipping your ministrations with blind faith. Papa’s head leans on your leg, cheek pressed on your inner thigh. He looks up at you, silently begging to continue. A black stain is left on you when you finally move away, causing him to whine from the loss of contact.
Oh, how much he aches, how much he wants to caress you and breathe into your skin. He’ll get his chance; you’re sure of it, but now you continue with the ritual, step by step carefully planned and calculated.
By the time the moon has moved and most of the candles have consumed, Papa is nothing but a whimpering, moaning mess in the altar. The hard floor digs on his bare knees, body uselessly pulling on the leather straps. He’s biting down on the gag, droll falling to the ground when he lets out another mewl.
Your hands are on him, caressing, scratching, working him up and down with slow ease. Once more, you bear the weight of his desire, the sheer devotion in his pupils. Papa is high on your love, on the sex and the denial, high out of his mind and reservations. He only craves for any release you might offer, for any touch of your fingers and kiss from your lips.
Through labored breaths and a heaving chest, you overhear him trying to talk around the gag. There are marks on his face when you remove it, and he takes his time to pant before he’s capable to form coherent words.
“The big candle is almost all consumed, tesoro,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours as if you were the apple of temptation placed in front of him, sweet and juicy for him to bite. “Our time is ending here. Sacrifice me for our Lord. My soul is forever yours.”
This time, you’re the one breathless. You gasp, muscles tensing and relaxing as you swallow. This man is an unholy sight, the devil on earth, the son of one below and you crave every inch of him.
The soothing murmur of his prayers fills your ears. Papa’s thick lashes are coated in pleasure tears when he narrows his eyes to focus on the unsacred words, reciting from memory the ancient incantations. You do it too, in your mind, as an effort to keep you grounded.
Papa is right, this part of the ritual is important. All this slow build up has to end in a powerful orgasm, in raw energy for the Old One to consume. Your palm comes to contact with his cock again, gripping it tight as your wrist moves with practiced ease. Gently, then faster and harder. Papa’s hips move as much as he can, in an effort to ride his own pleasure until the end.
With his head propped on your shoulder, you allow him to thrust into your first, other arm slithering around his back. On your chest, you sense the muffled rumble of his grunts and moans, the heat coming from his body. The silence is pierced by his scream when he ultimately comes, hips still moving as his cum stains the floor, your fingers and his own stomach.
The candle is completely consumed by the time he pauses, body almost hanging limp. He's resting all his weight on you, blissfully out of his mind. Your fingers deftly loosen up the leather straps, allowing him to fall more and more on you. Papa’s eyes are closed, but his pupils are still blown and clouded when he finally opens them up to tenderly stare at you.
“You were ruthless, like an infernal creature who crawled up from Hell to torture my soul for eternity,” he speaks, through pants.“You scared me, amore. So badly.”
Then, lowering his lips on your palm, he smiles. His face glistens with his own release, cum mixing with the remaining black and white pigment.
“Do it again,” he purrs, before letting out a few airy chuckles. “But, later, si? Get your Papa some snacks and water, will you?”
“Anything for you,” you reply, placing a kiss on his temple. The salt from his sweat rises to your lips, combined with the bitter taste of the face paint. “My soul is yours too.”
PS: yeah none of us is free of sin, friends.
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abyssalzones · 19 days
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hay mutual‼️ wanted to ask if uve seen kid cosmic and if so, do u care them
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HAY MUTUAL ‼️and YES I watched kid cosmic actively while it was coming out and adored it!! definitely filled the wander over yonder shaped hole in my heart as another great Craig McCracken cartoon, and then proved itself to be a very fresh and original thing for me to fall in love with. Namely I really liked how they touched on childhood trauma/PTSD, Kid's reactions felt very realistic.
uhmm I've drawn fanart for them in the past but I kind of struggle to make fanart for stuff that isn't a huge hyperfixation nowadays. Papa g was my favorite though (which is possibly.. uhm.. predictable..) so here's a g for the road
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