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#Underworld AU
i-pogchamp · 10 months
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promised actual sugarduo art! underworld au goes brr (even if writing hard :'( )
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lizamango · 7 months
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Not me starting a new fanfic of brainwashed hydra/blackwidow reader who thinks hydra are the good guys x recently defrosted steve rogers fic when i have how many wips 😀
might throw in a little winter soldier! bucky into the mix
also incorporating underworld vibes bc i’m obsessed w that saga
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maxbruiser · 5 months
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I just finished the "not your y/n" and I was wondering if you wouldn't mind on sparing us some spoilers? I feel really bad abt y/n alone on the surface W/ no support so, in the future, would her boys be transported too? Would she find comfort W/ the horrortale bro's? They would be a closer comparison to what she's used to(if they're already there I mean). I really really enjoyed reading it before bed and I hope there'll be more updates soon *thumbs up* :)
Her boys would definitely be transported to the surface eventually, but not for some time, gotta build up the angst ya know.
I think that y/n would be pretty comfortable interacting with the horror bros since they look and act kinda similar to her her boys back home. Although, there may be some initial confusion about why y/n doesn’t feel comfortable looking at Crooks’ face. Hopefully she’ll get over that soon enough, though.
I had once written a ghost chapter(unpublished) a few weeks after y/n was brought to the other AU, where in her original universe she pretty much is just erased from the universe entirely. Sans has no memory of her, but something deep in his being is nagging at him that something is missing. Something is…wrong. He just can’t seem to put his phalange on it. One thing he does notice though is how often papyrus just stares into certain spaces. He’ll often see his headless brother in his bedroom’s doorway, facing the bed and just…stays there. It’s worse during mealtimes though.
——
"C’mon paps, the chair can’t be that interesting." Sans sighs as he looks at his brother, then to the direction Papyrus’ neck is turned towards, seeing nothing but an empty space.
Papyrus makes a long, drawn out noise that sounds somewhat inquisitive to sans. He hasn’t even touched his spaghetti yet.
"Heh. Is that so?" Sans drawls out, spinning a bit of pasta onto his fork, not even a lick of understanding for his brother’s garbled speech.
papyrus makes another sound, sounding much more frustrated this time around.
Sans rubs a massive hand over his cracked face. Stars, he wish he could understand his brother. Has it always been this hard to communicate with him since the last reset? He can’t remember.
he stays staring at the chair with papyrus for a bit, resting his gaze on the much smaller chair.
Wait…
his brow furrows.
…why did the dining table have three chairs?
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quietblueriver · 4 months
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Underworld AU - Ava/Beatrice - hurt!Beatrice, blood, fighting, lycan, vampire, forbidden love~
Hello! So this was super fun to think about and I did a whole AU in my head, but this is just a tiny lil snippet.
Thanks for the prompt!
Quick summary of the story in my brain: The OCS is a sect of werewolves dedicated to eradicating vampires and protecting themselves and humanity. Ava gets turned and the OCS figures out she has the ability to become a hybrid so they kidnap her before the vamps can realize her potential. They assign Bea to be her protector/trainer. Obviously, they fall in love and Bea has a whole crisis about it and before they can deal with that, Bea is kicked out of the OCS for refusing to subject Ava to power-dampening experiments that will most likely kill her and for helping her escape. The OCS manages to kidnap Ava again.
And that’s where this lil bit picks up.
-
Shaking, she sinks to the floor, back pressed to the wall and head tilted to the ceiling. There’s no noise behind her, not yet, but it’s coming. As soon as Lilith runs a floor check and finds the body Ava left behind, it’s coming.
Ava is fucked.
She’s so, so fucked.
She forces herself to her feet and hobbles down the tunnel, turns one corner, then another, searching until she spots a door. She doesn’t have much left in her, but if she can get out of here, if she can find Bea and a blood bag and a bed, then maybe, maybe. And even if not, maybe she can just tell Bea…
She falls into the door and reaches blindly for the handle, only realizes what she’s done when she feels a strange texture on the skin of her palm. Releasing the grip, Ava looks down: there’s a new layer of bright red but she can see, underneath, where the fruits of her last attempt are turning darker, bronze barely visible anymore.
One turn too many, then. Too bad being turned didn’t fix her shit sense of direction, although to be fair, she’s literally dying, so.
She tries to ease herself to the floor, but her hand slips against the wall and the tiny bit of strength she has can’t make up for the loss of balance. There’s no stopping the cry that escapes her at impact, her body curling in on itself instinctually.
Ava manages to stretch herself out, press herself up, slump against the wall. They won’t get her lying down, at least.
And she knows, now: they’re gonna get her.
Time passes. The gaping wound in her stomach has almost stopped hurting, which she’s pretty sure is a bad sign, and the tunnel around her is blurry, bricks blending to an indistinguishable mass of gray. There’s a ringing in her ears, a heat and pressure against the back of her eyes. Finally, finally, muffled footsteps close in.
And then hands on Ava’s shoulders, a tight grip maneuvering her body easily so that she’s more upright against the wall.
She forces her eyes open. They’re gonna have to look at her when they do it. She’s gonna make them look at her.
Doing her one last solid, Ava’s brain turns whoever the werewolf above her is into Beatrice, superimposes the golden-brown eyes and perfect freckles. Beatrice, not-Beatrice, is frowning, which, like, not ideal as a last image, but to be fair to her dying brain, Ava had only just begun to see Bea smile on the regular. This worried expression, though. She knows this one super well.
There’s something else not quite right, not quite…the tears. Not-Beatrice is crying?
Ava reaches a hand out, shaking and bloody, toward her face. The tiny part of her still clinging to hope, still operating with some sense of self-preservation, screams in her brain, fighting to remind Ava that it’s not her, that it can’t be her, that Ava is reaching out to her death.
And yeah, Ava spent most of her life, and then most of her vampire life, desperate for a chance to live. But she’s done now. She tried her best and got in way more life than anybody wanted her to have. She’s so tired. She deserves a little peace.
She exhales into the darkness she’d been fighting, stops pushing it away as she makes a last request.
“Tell her I’m sorry. Please. I know you hate me, but can you…can you just tell her? I’m sorry, Bea. I’m so sorry.”
Fingers smooth through her hair, or try to, catching in blood. Then they’re on her cheeks, her arms. Gentle. Gentle. There’s an adjustment of her jaw, a press of something warm and soft against her lips, pressing into her mouth. The discomfort hardly registers, means nothing to her now.
But the voice. Even close to death, muffled with Ava’s fading sense, the voice means something. Means everything.
“No, Ava. I’m sorry. I love you.”
There’s a sharp pain against her kidney and her body reacts, jaw clenching feebly, a sound of pain from not-Beatrice and something isn’t right, something isn’t…
When she wakes, there’s blood in her mouth, warm and fresh and not hers, but familiar, somehow. Her eyes open to the tunnels and a body. Her body, curled around Ava’s, wrist open at the vein, skin unnaturally pale.
“No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no.” She scrambles, feels no pain, and pulls Beatrice up into her arms as if she weighs nothing. “Bea. Bea. Come on, please. Please.” Ava runs her fingers over freckles, cool to the touch, cups her jaw. “What did you do? What did you do?”
There’s a pulse, faint but there, and Ava gasps out her relief.
She manages to tear at her own shirt and wrap Bea’s wrist tightly in a few strips of fabric before she hears footsteps. They’re still far away, further away than Ava would’ve been able to hear before Bea gave her a real fresh shot of werewolf blood, but she doesn’t wait before standing and yanking the door from its hinges.
She lifts Bea into her arms and crosses into the newly opened room, sets her gently against a column as she takes stock: it’s a large chamber with no other visible entry point. Well, no other entry point for people who aren’t Ava, anyway. The high, glass-domed ceiling is practically an invitation to her now.
She closes her eyes and breathes deep. It’s all instinct but it works, and pain takes over as her body shifts. The muscles in her shoulders stretch and re-form, shoulder blades splitting and branching the length of her spine twice over, skin expanding to form the membrane of the wings spread behind her.
Her senses have gone fucking wild. Beyond being able to see into every dark corner, she can suddenly pinpoint every feature of the room based on the sounds the drops of water make when they hit the floor, which is, if she’s remembering her David Attenborough right, a function of echolocation.
Right. Yeah. That’s new.
It’s not like there’s a mirror around for her to check out her fresh-from-the-werewolf-market monster bod, but she’s pretty fucking sure she’s terrifying, based on the illustrations in the dusty-ass books the OCS kept looking at all solemnly and also, like, the feel of the wings growing from her back. She lifts a claw—yeah, a claw—to her face and groans at the Voldemort nose she finds. Cool, cool, cool.
That brief movement of her arm, the feel of muscles shifting, tells her she could demolish one of these columns without breaking a sweat.
She gets why the OCS was so desperate to keep her and her special blood away from basically everyone. She’s some fucking weapon, for sure.
Ava’s been tracking the footsteps, picks up Bea and has them in the air before Lilith and her posse have even made it through the door. She shoots toward the ceiling with as much power as she can, curling her wings around Beatrice protectively just before they burst through the dome, shattered glass raining down.
She hears a cry and, Bea secured, reaches one taloned claw back to give Lilith the finger. She won’t see it, but it makes Ava feel a little better, at least.
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dreamlandcreations · 9 months
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Underworld AU
Aleksander Morozova x Reader
• moodboards masterlist •
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javierramdom15 · 5 months
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IM BACK! after an Eternity... SORRY!
UnderWorld Comic:
Something has gone Wrong =)
Page 9-11
Comic By: Me
Au By: @coulsart
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sunnyie-eve · 2 months
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1 | Reminded 
Series: Wildest Dreams || Underworld
Paring: Lucian x Original female vampire character
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1.1k
| MASTERLIST |
1889
Bravery is the sweet spot on a spectrum from cowardice to foolhardy. There are times, when running away is that sweet spot, when it is the brave choice. It is all a matter of circumstance, trust your instinct on what has arisen.
Only by looking at an object from many perspectives do you see its exact shape and dimensions, and the truth is the same; which is why only a multidisciplinary approach by high-level generalists will find it. For it is the harmonizing of these facts from apparently unrelated areas that is the eureka moment, the finding of truth.
"Irina!" Selene watches her sister get ready to jump off the high cliff in the middle of the night during a heavy rainstorm.
"I no longer will be a blind slave. Goodbye, sister." Irina closes her eyes leaning to fall back then lands perfectly on her feet.
Selene rushes to look down at her sister before a Lycan attacks her taking her away. Normally Selene would've hunted down and killed the Lycan but she was in shock. She had lost the last member of her biological family to a Lycan.
While heading back to the mansion planning on getting her revenge on Lycan even more for killing her family, Irina was walking alongside a Lycan completely fine.
"Are you sure about this?"
"I want Viktor dead for what he did to my family. I want every vampire who has knowledge of what he did to die as well." Irina turns to the Lycan.
"Why turn you and your sister?"
"Because we reminded him of his daughter, your dead wife. Viktor turned us into Vampires. He lied to us, telling us a pack of Lycans had killed our family, ensuring that we would never betray them like she did." Irina tells Lucian.
Lucian takes in every detail of Irina and he could she indeed resembled Sonja in some ways making him miss her even more.
"We are always told to not go digging in the past. I wanted to know why and I found out the truth. I spent years following Lycans to find you. I never once believed Kraven that he killed you. Every single Vampire that went in didn't come out except to him."
"Intrigued to do business with you, Irina." Lucian shakes her hand.
Lucian leads her down underground to where he's been hiding along with other Lycans. As soon as the others catch a glimpse of her, they watch the two walk by confused why he would bring a Vampire down here.
Raze steps in front of the two letting out a growl and glaring at Irina, "Raze, she's on our side now." Lucian tells him so Irina smiles at Raze.
"I want this war to end for many reasons, Raze. I most want Viktor dead for murdering my family. Turning me into this and blinding me to the truth. We both have something in common... We were both his slaves." She puts her hands out to him and he shakes her head welcoming her.
Being underground was nice for Irina since she never had to worry about the sunlight getting to her during the day. It took a few weeks first for Lycans to get used to having a Vampire basically living with them now and not trying to kill them.
"When did Viktor turn you?" Lucian finds Irina messing with some swords she stole recently.
"1402, the same time you started the rise of Lycan's. I was 19 and I'm now 506. I didn't think I would've made it past 40 yet here I am. But I can admit it's nice to see how the world evolves over time."
"Do you wish you died as a human?" He leans against the wall.
"I do so I could be with my family." She starts to think back, "And with the man who stole my heart that was murdered in front of me since I didn't try to stop it." She gets upset. Lucian gets confused and she can see it causing her to chuckle, "My love was a Lycan, Lucian, when I was a human. When Viktor told us the Lycans killed our family, he captured Alaric and said he was one of the ones. Used a lie saying he used me to earn my trust. Hurt by the loss of my entire family, I believe him at that moment just for a brief moment. Alaric begged me not to believe Viktor's lies, crying about how I was the love of his life and that he could've never done that to me. It was too when I wanted to help him...Alaric was then decapitated in front of me while Viktor comforted me. I wish I could have done it all differently."
"Did you know he was a Lycan when you were human?" Lucian asks watching her cut her finger on the blade slowly.
"Indeed I did, and I trusted him with my whole heart... Until that moment I broke his not believing him." She tears up, "We had plans to run off together and get married. He knew my father would've never allowed it because of how he grew up. How his family was looked down on by even the worst." She watches the blood run down her finger as it mocks the actions of her tears on her cheek, "I never stopped loving him even for the little brief moment believing he helped kill my family."
"A Vampire in love with a Lycan... I believe Viktor was a little too correct that you were like Sonja." Lucian takes the sword away from her.
Irina watches Lucian set it down away from her before he turns back to her, "We'll get revenge for their deaths." He turns back to leave but stops, "We have something to relate to." He adds before leaving her alone.
She sits alone for a few minutes before getting up to go follow him, "Why are you now suddenly asking me questions about myself? I've been here for basically a month now and not once have you tried to get to know me better. I've been on my own down here. A few Lycans still don't like me down here."
"I apologize for that, Irina. I'm also sorry you've been alone down here. I know you left your sister for this as well." He turns to face her as Daze watches the two.
He was taken aback as she raised her voice at Lucian since none of the Lycans do so without pissing him off. Yet here she does so and Lucian was talking back to her calmly.
"I appreciate the apology." She leaves him and Raze.
"What even convinced you about her?" Raze turns to Lucian.
"I believed her words and now knowing her history, I know she knows how I feel about Viktor. She's different just like Sonja was."
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ikemengoessbrrrrr · 10 months
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*BREAKING A DOOR
Guess who made another au!!!
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The demon king Ataru, ruler of the underworld asking why the heck there's no girls want him. Forgeting the fact that everyone afraid of him, and man is confused why. And Lum, a succubus who wants to find a true love so she goes to human realm but accidentally found herself in king's castle and meet Ataru. She fell in love with him instead.
But because suddenly someone want him, Ataru became suspicius and thinking Lum has any motive (DUMBASS)
Follow the story of two dumbasses romance in the demonic setting because why the hell not
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lvnterninthenight · 1 year
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Beastly - Part 2
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Word Count: ~3050 Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. Swearing, very suggestive language and explicit sexual content. A further general warning for underworld-ness, in case you forgot where we were. Author's note: When you get a new car you have to take it for a spin, right? Same sort of thing..
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I’m so over slamming doors; been there, done that.  Better to shatter them ahead of you and walk through the shards of glass in your best Louboutin pumps.  Nice and crunchy.  Now that’s how you make an entrance!  
“Honey!  I’m home!”
His head swivels on its axis towards me at the noise, saucers for eyes as a moan of relief escapes from under his ball gag.  I could have conjured anything to shut his hole but I thought that particularly funny.  Another comedic pat on the back to moi.  
He’s a slobbery mess, and I would scold him for dribbling over my velvet furniture but part of the scene is also terribly satisfying.  But alas, I’m in no mood to fully enjoy it right now and I hope my stomping is making that clear, shaking the remaining glass in the windows and shooting my sentrymen a classic ‘fuck off now’ glare.  That fucking imbecile recruit, who does he think he is breaking one of my nails with all that thrashing around?  So fucking dramatic.  See how you like the rack for a few days and you’ll be wishing it was just a branding iron, buddy.
I could replace the nail instantly with no effort of course, make it just like all the others as if nothing had happened.  But I don’t - and I’ll tell you why.  I want to look at it, I want to feel the anger.  Fuck, what fury does when it courses through me, it gets all seven sins going at once and it’s positively orgasmic.
I undo the buttons of my black trench and let it crumple to the ground as I walk over to him.  Despite the floor length coat it’s amazing how blood just gets everywhere! The bright white of my button up shirt is ruined so in a flick it’s gone, along with the tight, leather trousers.  What better thing to relax in after a long day at the office than in a long, sweeping silk dressing gown?  Oh but whoops!  Is it a bit too see through?  Is my skin just fucking shimmering pearlescent underneath it because I’m so buzzed?  I dare anyone to try and stay chaste around me like this. Double dare.
I slink onto the seat, knee wedging between his legs maybe definitely on purpose as I lean in, feeling his crotch as I do which draws out another whine now slightly more strained.  Has he been hard this whole time?!  The poor sap.  
I hold my right hand in front of him, the middle fingernail is the broken one which I have him focus on.  “See this?”  A small gargle in the affirmative.  “Mistakes like this will happen if you make sudden movements or thrash around like a little pussy.”  I tease the finger over the plastic of the ball, testing the little air hole by pressing it in a bit further.  “That would make me very mad at you.”  When I hear another little gargle I release the pressure and watching a fresh trickle of saliva drip from the side of his mouth.  A thankful sigh.  “If I take all this off you’re not going to do that, are you?”  He shakes his head obediently.
A flick and the gag and restraints are gone - poof!  With no time to even regain his breath he finds himself sat upright, growing puzzlement that he’s no longer on the chaise but now arms resting on an office-style table and typically uncomfortable chair.  
Like a typically gesticulate cartoon character he begins patting himself over, checking he’s still real - spoiler alert: yes - and feeling the crisp pinstripe suit now adorning his body.  It’s quite a departure from the stage attire, perhaps even a little boring, too corporate for him but just roll with me here.  He peers at the tag attached to his lapel, trying to read it upside down.
“It says candidate.”
My voice is closer than he thinks, finding me sat across from him and putting on my best serious face.  My now-red hair secured atop my head with a pin, a shirt and jacket combo that barely holds my tits in and the most pathetic excuse for a skirt imaginable.  Yeah, so this outfit idea might have come from Pornhub but who’s complaining?!  
I pull a pen from behind my ear and give it a slow suck between these perfect blowjob lips, before tapping it against the clipboard resting in front of me - as a prop the pages are all blank so just pretend okay, don’t shatter the illusion!  
“Consider this your interview, Mr Kiszka.”
“What for?”
“This, of course!”  I gesture around us, though as I’ve not conjured anything it is just an empty, blood red room with a table dressed in dim candlelight.  Okay, maybe I should explain a little.  
“The fact you aren’t screaming in agony down there with the rest.  You caught my eye with that face and curly mop of hair, but obviously before I decide to keep you around I have to check I’m not just thinking with my pussy, again.”  
My thoughts flick back momentarily to that beautiful - gorgeous son of a bitch a few months back.  Biggest dick I’d seen for decades but almost as vain as me, and that just will not do.  He had to go.  And not with that thing still attached or I’d have been thinking about him for daysss, or minutes at least.  It’s gone in my trophy cabinet. 
But anyway, enough of that.
“So!”  I clasp my hands together with glee.  “We’re going to have a quick Q+A, okay?”  I already know the A’s of course, it’s all about his delivery.  “First thing’s first, do you know why you’re here?”
He blinks a few times, thinking he must be missing something as his voice comes out wavering.  “I’m dead, you said so?”  Hmm, I really thought he’d be smarter.  Strike one.
“Why do you think you’re here, and not up there with all the bells and whistles?”
He ponders for a moment.  It’s not often I’m surprised but it seems he actually hadn’t thought about it until now.  “I don’t know. Sex, drugs, rock and roll?”
With a shrug of my shoulders the pen is now a cigarette, smoke rising seductively as I lean back and bring it to my lips for a long drag.  He wants one too, staring, fixated.  Oh I bet you’d kill for a smoke, it’s been quite a day for you, huh?  
“You’ve got eternity to pinpoint exactly what got you here.  They say when you realise and take ownership of your sins it gets easier here.  I call that bullshit!  You’re in the bad books and that’s that.  This shit is forever.”
I let out a little chuckle and for a minute he joins me, contagious, before his lightbulb brain flickers and his expression falls.  Life, family, friends all gone, getting him right in the feelings.
Well, feelings schmeelings! That should be strike two, but dammit the way he’s chewing on his lip makes me want to rip him apart right fucking now.  Let’s bring him back to me.
“What do you think of me, Joshua?”  
I pull the pin from my hair and twiddle it between my fingers.  The hair tumbles down, landing and brushing just against my cleavage.  His eyes stop there too, taking a shaky inhale.  Tits are a great distraction, aren’t they?  
“I implore you to be honest, because I’ll know if you lie and it will not end well for you.” The pin is jabbed just shy of the skin of this throat, Adam’s apple bobbing nervously.  Adam was such a little prick.
But no time for musings now, he gets right to it, running a hand over his jawline .  “I feel like, like I must be high, or dreaming or something.  I should be losing my mind, grieving my life, my fucking brother, I mean what the fuck is this?! But instead, when you left earlier, I spent the whole time wishing you’d come back.  Even though you fucking terrify me and I daren’t even breathe in front of you in case it’s wrong.”
Ooof dammit, tell me more.  I just love it when people talk me up, it gets me fucking goinggg.  A wave of my hand for him to continue. 
“You’re…you’re captivating, and enigma.  I want to hear all the thoughts inside your brain, run my hands over every inch of you. I want to taste you, crawl up inside you.”
Well fuck me, that one caught me be surprise!  The little fucker is actually turning me on now, wanting to bury himself in my perfect human cunt.  
“My my, what a way with words.  Is your tongue as good at licking as it is talking?”  That wasn’t one of the questions on my list but I’ll be damned if I don’t want to know the answer.  Well, I’m damned either way but you catch my drift.
He nods, a glint in his eye.  Oh, he’s been told that before.  Cocky shit.
“It doesn’t bother you that this shell is just a facade?”
“I love it, I want to see every side of you.  Even what you’re like underneath it all, the scaly beast from before.” 
Uh oh.  Strike two.  And three.  And four.
“Beast?!”  
Before he knows it he’s up and pressed against a wall of cold steel.  He’s screaming at the sudden temperature shock, because of course I removed his clothes for maximum effect.  
I get up in his face, making sure that Disney wonderment of me is all gone, snarling at him like a rabid dog.  “Beasts can look pretty too, mortal, it lives within.  Don’t forget who you’re speaking to.”
“I’m sorry! S-sorry Master, I’m sorry I didn’t mean it!”  
His eyes are screwed shut in terror, which is good for me because the use of the word Master has these human legs trembling.  Damn lust getting in the way of my groove, fucking keep it together.
I flick and we are back at the table just as we were.  Pin in my hair.  Clothes back on Josh.  The name tag gently swings with the force in which he was put back together.  He glances over shocked but I want to get back on track.  I know which part I want to get to, and quickly.
Cigarette back in hand I drag, slow ring puffed around his head as I regain composure.  “Now, do you have any questions for me?  Choose wisely.”
After being convinced he was seconds from pissing his pants he finds his voice again surprisingly quickly.  “What are you?”
Tsk!  “That's a waste of a question, I’ve told you already.  You don’t get many of these y’know?”
“I mean, I know you’re the devil, immortal, a God and Lord of the underworld.  But are you a woman?  A man? Something else?”
I purse my lips for a moment, wondering if I should entertain this train of thought before I think about the potential for a bit more emotional whiplash.  Oh goodie. 
“I am whatever I choose to be at any given moment, any creed or iteration of anything there ever was.  My true form is beyond your comprehension, no gender or feelings as you know them.  Only a desire to sin and reign chaos.  Over the years I’ve grown fond of the female form, their sensuality and power.”
Just the thought of it makes me feel extra glowly, rising sharply from the chair to climb on the table in front of him.  He’s transfixed, mouth wide as I snake my hands up my thighs, opening my legs wide and watching him start to melt.  Oh my, no underwear?!  Naughty interviewer, how unprofessional.
“I think it’s their orgasms, the way their whole bodies writhe and shake, moaning uncontrollably.  And their pretty little pussies, just perfection aren’t they, Joshua?”
He swallows, hard, hand running nervously through his curls and trying to loosen the top button of his stiff shirt.  “Ohh fuckk.”
But my legs snap shut making him jump.
“Any more questions?”
“Jake, my brother, can I see him?  Can he come here?”  
What?!  How did we get to here from fucking pussy?!  I sigh, he is exasperating.
“No, Josh.  For fuck’s sake, pets are hard work, always after something.  They say it’s like having children and I’m not ready to be a mother of two again.  I’m not even decided on you yet, you’re starting to try my patience.”
He goes to open his mouth again, protest or plead but I am not in the mood.  I flick and he’s underneath me, head between my legs.
“The question portion of this interview is over.  I don’t want to hear your words.”  I slip two fingers into his gaping mouth, gathering saliva that I run up through my folds with a glittering shiver.  “Time to impress me.”
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Eager isn’t the word, mama’s boy is writhing underneath me, hands grabbing my ass to pull me towards his mouth like a man possessed.
Wait - I haven’t possessed him have I?  Sometimes I don’t even know I’m doing it!  I peer quickly at his eyes, still chestnut brown.  Phew.  Well fuck, he’s just that horny.  “Easy cowboy.”
I flick and my knees are suddenly sinking down into plush black silk, hands resting on an ornate dark wood headboard.  My hair is back to black, long and wavy right down my back, no need for clothes now I’m about to get what I need.
Josh’s eyes look up to me, waiting, yearning.  His curls are splayed out on a soft pillow, and if I wasn’t so repulsed by them I would say he looks like an angel, his hair a halo. Ugh, fuck that.  But he looks fucking good.
“Open wide mortal, show me that tongue and say ahh.”  I smile when he obeys promptly, swallowing all that noise as I sink down onto him.  He vibrates all over me for a moment and I already have a good feeling about this.
His tongue makes a home as deep as he can go while his muffled moans of delight continue, arms locking around my thighs to hold me in place and smothering himself eagerly.  No force imaginable could hold me down but I stay here and play the part, just for the pleasure.  “Yess, good fucking boy.”
He’s getting lost in the taste of me, which I can guarantee is the sweetest thing that’s ever passed his lips. But I make sure not to let him forget this clit needs attention, gyrating my hips and nudging his nose against it which has me breathing out little whines up to the ceiling high above.  The sounds bounce around melding with the dull screams from outside, what a gorgeous cacophony.  
My hip swivels continue but his focus changes, bringing his fingers into play while he draws a line with the flat of his tongue up to my clit to suck and lick until my whines are moans of pleasure.  The fingers are nudging my g-spot as I grind down onto him and honestly, this is a faultless performance so far.  
My thighs start to clench around his head, my moans turning more demonic and bouncing around the room, fist gripping down and cracking into the wood of the headboard.  His fingers and tongue combine at one particularly perfect synchronism to jolt me forward with a shriek, a piece of headboard breaking clean off and sending splinters flying in all directions.
Sure he can barely breathe, but it’s not as if he can die again?  With that said I’ll be fucking livid if he passes out and this stops entirely, so I give him a brief moment to gather himself, and as a bonus I can look at his soaking face.  “You like that, pet?”
He’s swimming, eyes hazy.  “Your taste, fuckk.  What are you, mama?”  Oh not this again!  Now?!
“Take that question out of your fucking head and let me fuck your mouth, I’m losing the high.”
Grabbing a fistful of curls I reacquaint myself, and as my grip tightens he moans louder, stronger vibrations coursing up through me and out of my mouth as a ragged cry.  What a delicious chain reaction.  It brings out all my registers, rocking down into him like this.  
“Just like that, Pet.  That’s it, so fucking good.”  He’s got to be better than the last ten playthings at least, maybe more.  Holy shit.
It’s no time at all before the pressure starts building and burning, muscles spasming of their own volition and my moans becoming otherworldly.  Banshees could only hope to hit these notes.  
I glance a look down my body at him, the pearlescent sheen on my skin intensifying with the growing climax.  And then his eyes closed in bliss, head moving in all directions just consumed in consuming.  He’s lapping fast little strokes over my clit and I’m actually starting to feel lightheaded.  “Josh - fingers - fast.”  Again he’s straight there, concentrating so hard from both angles and I’m surging forward like a runaway train.  Try and stop me now and it would not end well for you..
It’s too bad his face is so full of me that he misses the show.  As I freefall over the edge my hands dig into the skin of his stomach as I lean back, throwing my head back to scream out my release, shattering the panes of the door for the second time today along with all the surrounding windows.  My thighs clench so hard I think I might pop his head like a fucking blueberry, but as I’m gushing around him I know he’s alive because he’s moaning right back at me, drinking up every last drop.
As I start to regain my composure I lift my hands to my face, inspecting the ruby red smudges of blood.  His moans could be pain or pleasure right now but I’d wager it’s a bit of both.  I just cannot emphasise enough how amazing my pussy is, okay?  Other-fucking-worldly.  
He may as well have little birds and stars twittering around his head as I click my fingers with one hand, lifting his head with the other so he can see the glowing shimmer that’s taken over my skin.  
“That, pet, is how you know you’ve done a good job.”
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Taglist: @gretavanfleas @jakeslovehandles @sammysvanfeet @doodle417 @dannysnipplehair @writingcold @idk-maddie @aljen-malti @gretavanbitches @peacefulfuckinarmy @jakekiszkasbestie @sc2106 @myownparadise96 @lallisonl @lunaindigoraven @basiccortez @gretasmokerising @spicedandicedtea @highladyofasgard @jakeyboiiiiiii @loofypoofy @saoirsemaeve
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eschercaine · 1 year
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UNDERWORLD AU
Daemon, a renowned Death Dealer, is charged with safeguarding Rhaenyra, Viserys’ pure-born daughter and future leader of the Eastern Coven, against Lycan attacks.
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wintosavesavetowin · 7 months
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Psp psp psp psp psp come get some dabihawks angst
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i-pogchamp · 7 months
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benefits of having 2 boyfriends: when youre too short to pin one to the wall, the other has your back
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psychic-refugee · 1 year
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Wednesday, Goddess of Woe, Punisher of the Feckless and Foolish
She makes her home at the Headwaters of the River Acheron: The River of Woe that flows through the Infernal Realm of Hades.
She was feared and venerated in equal measure.
No one was surprised when the spring god Xavier fell in love with her and followed her through Tartarus.
They were surprised, however, when she took him to husband.
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scariusaquarius · 1 year
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Oop just had a thought but lycan! Chris fighting against vampire dominant! Hybrid! Leon over a human! Reader swnwiwnwiw
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chiapetirl · 2 years
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The air smelled of iron, of rot and of human filth.
It took Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez every level of constraint to keep from scrunching up his face in disgust, staring down at the rain-soaked urban landscape. Blue eyes searched through the sea of faces, all of which were partially huddled under hoods and umbrellas, desperate to get indoors.
They’re here somewhere, dammit.
A lycan’s scent was far more potent than that of the average human’s, something a Death Dealer knew well. But even in the rain, it was difficult to separate the stench of a lycan from that of a wet human. Grimmjow’s fingers tapped incessantly on the concrete, his impatience rising. The two pistols on his hips pressed into him, as if burning to be unholstered. The black leather of his body suit made it difficult for the rain to soak into him, trailing off and disappearing into the gray surface below.
They should’ve been here by now, he thought, his lips forming a slight grimace. If that fucker Gilga gave me bad info again, I’ll snap his thin neck!
Among the grays and browns, a figure began to descend the stairs, heading for the subway. He smelled like the average human; unwashed, exhausted, running on caffeine and very little food, frantic to get somewhere. Orange hair peeked out from under a gray hoodie, rain trailing down a leather jacket. He shouldn’t have caught the Death Dealer’s eye, but something…
Something was wrong .
Not far behind, a string of fast moving, unwavering individuals trailed behind him, as if locked on to an invisible target. One sniff and Grimmjow’s lips formed a lip-splitting grin. Bingo! Without hesitation, he dove into the shadows, scaling the stairs and winding down the stairs towards the brightly lit subway terminal.
“Got ya now, ya bastards!” His stifled laughter trailed after him as he bolted down the halls.
Read Crux here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35428186
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janetheartist · 1 year
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UnderTale AU versions of me
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Three AUs of me :D
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