#because he thought his demon half was the only part that mattered/would make him powerful enough to do that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

squirmhoney · 7 months

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POSSESSED - SPOOK'TOBER FIC

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Half-Sister! Reader Warning: Smut. Incest. Dark. Non-Con. Dub-con. Somnophilia. Possessed!Aegon. Gagging. Crying Demonic powers at play! Paranormal/Supernatural kind of. MDNI A/N: Seeing how you reacted to the snippet, I had to get this out there. For the people that didn't read this, it's slightly inspired by Talk To Me (2023). Aegon is an evil being and the whole fic is quite sick if I'm honest. I hope you all love it and get a drink because this is a long one.

The feeling he felt, it was stronger than hate. It twisted and turned in his stomach, deep and pitiful, crawling along his skin in a way that made him want to break something. And when his hand laid on top of your thigh, it couldn’t help but latch onto it, tightening around it till his knuckles grew white. It was only when you winced in the bed beside him did he release his hold, waking up from the trance he had lost himself in.

Then he could hear it again, the voice that whispered just quiet enough for him to hear. That same voice that told him to do things he knew he shouldn’t do, things that a brother shouldn’t do to his little sister.

“Touch her,” the voice told him and Aegon listened.

His hand slid across your subtle skin, reaching underneath the baggy t-shirt you wore, lifting it up till it rests above your hips.

Aegon couldn’t help the harsh breath he took when he noticed the thin white lace that covered your cunt. So sheer that he could practically see right through it, not that he hadn’t seen it before.

His fingers trailed upwards, over the material lightly, as if he was contemplating his next steps. No that it mattered because there was that voice again.

“You know you want to.”

This time Aegon answered back, “Just for a little bit.”

All it took was that thought, it would only be for a second, a moment to feel what he yearned for a lifetime. His fingers slipped in through the waistband of your panties, slowly moving further down till the palm of his hand was resting against your cunt. It was so warm there, so inviting as your thighs parted for him in your sleep.

“Only a second.”

Aegon bit on his lip, trying to contain himself as his fingers rubbed against you. It was slow as he tested the waters, watching every gentle rise and fall of your chest, making sure there was no sign of you waking up to his antics.

Not likely you would wake though, not with the pills that Aegon had made sure to crush into your evening tea. But he could never be too careful.

As soon as Aegon heard it, the light sigh from your lips, he found himself completely lost. The voice no longer needed to encourage him any further. It was him under control, completely him.

Within a second the t-shirt you were wearing was bunched up over your breasts, enough for Aegon to see. Lips wrapped around one of your nipples as soon as he got the chance, while his free hand fondled the other. He knew how it would get you, feeling the wetness already drip onto his fingers but it wasn’t enough yet. His mouth would switch to your other nipple, licking and pinching at it gently, until your breath caught in your throat and your chest lifted up to reach his face.

You wanted this, he could tell by the way you leaned into every subtle touch from him.

And Aegon would give his sweet sister everything she desired, even if she didn’t know what it was she truly desired yet.

With your slick loosening your walls, Aegon managed to slip a finger in. He was slow, thrusting it all the way in before taking it all the way back out again. He repeated until there was space enough for two and the sighs you were letting out were quiet moans.

Aegon felt content like this, watching your face contour as your walls squeezed around his fingers. The enjoyment from seeing you pleasured, taken care of, that’s all he needed. He could dream that his fingers were his cock, that he was taking this a step further.

But if you kept going the way you were going, slipping away from him like you were, he would have to show you where you really belonged.

“Or you could do it now,” The voice was back again.

Aegon pushed it away, shaking it off as he focused on the sounds falling from your lips. He didn’t want to do that, not with you like this, it wasn’t fair to you or to himself.

When he finally got to take your virginity, he wanted you to be awake for it. He wanted to see the dazed look in your eyes as he slipped into your walls for the first time, he wanted to hear you scream his name, have you begging in a way no one could.

He could feel your walls tightening around his fingers again, hips bucking up into his touch and he knew you were close. It was then Aegon became aware of how hard he was, feeling himself leak in his boxers. But that didn’t matter now, not when you were cumming on his fingers, dripping around them like never before.

“So good for me,” he whispered as he watched you ride out your high.

Once it was over, Aegon was quick to push your panties back up your thighs and pull your t-shirt back down. With you satisfied, he rested beside you, using the rest of the slick on his hand to fist the hardness in his pants.

He made sure to be pressed up behind you as he touched himself, lips pressed up against the shell of your ear as he inhaled your rich scent. These days it was the only way he could cum, if he was right next to you.

Maybe Aegon had a few too many drinks, or he had taken a little something when none of you had been looking. But he had been off with everybody all night, especially you and you couldn’t quite pinpoint when it had started.

“It says here it’s almost eight hours on the plane to Volantis,” Aemond said, a chuff smile on his face as he practically threw his phone into Aegon’s face. “To think our beloved sister will be so far away, Aegon.”

Aegon slapped Aemond’s phone out of his face, giving him a cold glare.

“Why are you upset, Aegon?” Alicent hissed over the table. “You’re acting like a spoiled brat.”

You wanted to say something then as Aegon’s eyes caught yours from the other side of the table but no words reached your lips.

Within a second of the waiter reaching the table again, the attention of your family turned and before they could realise it, Aegon slipped away. And you shortly after followed him.

Aegon’s steps were fast, moving through the restaurant with a certain impatience about him as if he needed to get anywhere that wasn’t here. At first you thought you lost him, your steps not being able to catch up to him until you noticed his white tuft of hair slipping into the restrooms.

It took you a moment before you decided to follow him inside, looking around to check no one caught you. You slipped inside, closing the door behind you.

You were shocked to see Aegon hunched over the bathroom sink, shaky breaths leaving him. His hair was a dishevelled mess, the first few buttons of his collar loosened and it was as if his shirt was clinging to him with sweat.

Before you knew it you were standing next to him, hand lifting to press against his shoulder to make yourself known.

But he already knew you were there.

Aegon looked up noticing your presence and for a second you swore his pupils were completely black. And not like they were dilated but instead completely hollow and dissolved of all colour.

For the first time in your life you flinched away from your brother. And when you looked back his eyes were the violet they had always been, just filled with tears that you couldn’t explain.

“Aegon,” you were lost for words, hand shaking in front of you.

“You said you were going to go to Dorne with me,” Aegon let out in a staggered breath, his voice becoming strained from the tears lodged in the back of his throat. “You told me you wanted to be where your mother grew up. To finally experience that side of your life. I picked Dorne for you.”

“I haven’t even picked yet,” you told him, trying to calm him down.

“But it’s why we are out here, isn’t it? Because you got into Volantis?” Aegon’s tears were mixed with an anger you couldn’t quite grasp. An anger that was making you see a new side to him that you didn’t like.

“You could at least try to be happy for me,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “Ever since I opened that letter the other day you’ve been nothing but vile towards me. And I can’t truly understand it.” Your attention turned as you tried to think but only irrational thoughts came to your head. “Are you jealous?”

“Jealous,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

“What else could it be?” You questioned, throwing your arms up in disbelief.

“You’re a traitor, you know that?” Aegon spat at you, knuckles turning white as he gripped onto the edge of the sink. “You lied to me so you can whore yourself at some other university eight hours away.”

“Are you in love with me or something?” You didn’t mean it, in fact you weren’t even sure where it had come from.

Aegon became quiet, eyes breaking away from yours again.

For a second you thought you had your answer.

Until Aegon hunched over, groaning as if he was in some sort of intense pain.

Then he collapsed.

You didn’t know what came first, your screaming or Aegon’s writhing figure being smashed repeatedly into the floor.

All you remembered was a few waiters finding you with Aegon’s head in your lap, blood dripping from his nose as you clutched onto his shoulders.

“And you say he’s never suffered from seizures before?”

Alicent was quick to shake her head at the doctor's question, turning to look at Aegon in the hospital bed.

“Anything that you know that might have triggered this?” The doctor asked.

She was about to shake her head again but you stopped her by speaking.

“He was really upset at dinner,” you said without thinking. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“Emotional stress can cause seizures,” the doctor said, writing stuff down on her clipboard. “Especially if he has been feeling this way for a while. But I can’t be sure.”

“When will we be able to take him home?” Alicent asked.

“I’d like to keep him in for overnight observations,” the doctor told you both, “He seemed to have hit his head pretty hard. I think it’s best just to be able to keep an eye on him here.”

“Can I stay with him?”

You can’t really remember how you had convinced the doctors to let you stay overnight, maybe it was that pathetic look of sadness over your face, but they managed to agree that it might be best if Aegon had someone he knew when he woke up. He had been under enough stress as it was.

With the blinds closed, and the steady beep of Aegon’s heart monitor you managed to get to sleep. Only to be woken a few hours later, to utter silence in the room.

There was a panic that set over you when you realised you couldn’t hear Aegon’s heart monitor, body lifting from your seat before you even had fully woken up. It wasn’t on and for a moment your heart stopped beating in your chest.

A hand reached out to you, cold to the touch as Aegon whispered, “I’m here.”

You sighed, clutching onto his hand as a wave of emotions washed over you.

Aegon didn’t hesitate to pull you into his side, making space for you on the bed next to him. “It’s okay, I’m fine.”

Even though you could hear him, feel him against your skin, the fear that had settled in your bones was already there. It wrecked through your body as you clung onto him, sobbing into his chest as though he had died.

It took at least half an hour before your breathing was steady and you could speak again.

“I’m sorry,” you gulped, pressing your forehead against his. “I didn’t realise how upset you were. I shouldn’t have antagonised you like that.”

“You didn’t mean it,” Aegon reassured you, wiping your hair out of your damp face. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I should have listened to you-” Your words got lodged in your throat, “I could have at least tried.”

“It’s okay, really,” his voice was soft and his breath was warm against your face. “We are here now.”

“I should have never said that.” You shook your head at the thought, burying your face further into his chest. “I should have never insinuated that. Said that you were in love with me.”

“But I do love you,” Aegon’s lips were pressed against your forehead as he said this.

“I know that,” you laughed slightly, allowing your eyes to close for a second. “But not like that. You’re not in love with me.”

“I am in love with you,” Aegon whispered, so very sure of himself as he spoke.

There was a knot in your stomach you couldn’t shake, one that had you moving your head to look up at him. “I don’t think you get what I mean.”

Even in the darkness you could still make out his face, the furrow of his dark eyebrows and the squint of his eye. As if there was nothing to be confused about, as if it was that easy.

“Aegon, you don’t mean that.” With each word you tried to lean away, only to realise how close you both were to each other.

“I do mean it though,” Aegon repeated, speaking as if it was the clearest thing in the world. “I’ve always loved you like this.”

“No.” You don’t even realise how far you’ve pushed away from him until you’ve fallen backwards on the floor, smacking into the hard ground. You squealed slightly, moving around to try and pick yourself up.

But when Aegon slipped out of his bed, towering over your form, you practically threw yourself towards the door. That knot in your stomach started to hurt, making you feel like you could hurl on the cold tiled floor. When you thought you had caught the handle of the door, something took your balance from underneath you, making you slip all over again.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” you told him, trying to push yourself towards the door until a foot stepped onto your hand. You let out a cry then, trying to push his weight off of you, just to be able to reach the door. “Aegon, please.”

Then he was gone again, stepping behind you and out of sight.

You scrambled to reach for the door, arm reaching out to yank it open only for the door to be slammed into its place. The sound of the locks clicked closed and when you reached for the handle again, it would barely move.

Then you saw him again, through the reflection of the window in the door, his eyes darker than before. “It makes perfect sense actually.”

Within a second he threw something over your head, giving you no time to speak as he wrapped it around your mouth. It had you gagged and the material felt like some sort of hospital bandage, one that Aegon wrapped a few more times to keep you silenced.

“I mean I applied to go to Dorne for you,” Aegon stated, an unsettling coldness to his voice. He wrapped his arms around your frame, dragging you back to his hospital bed. “I got dad to bribe them to get me into that university. All because I thought you were going to go there next year. I spent my first year studying from home most of the time and for the other half I spent phoning you. Was it not clear that I just wanted to be around you?”

Your hands were clawing at him to stop, but no matter how deep your nails dug or how hard your fists slammed at him, it was like he didn’t feel it.

“I’ve always loved you,” Aegon threw you on the bed, quick to shove himself on top of your frame to stop you moving. “You’re meant to love me.” His forehead was pressed against yours now, his breath feeling hot on your skin.

This wasn’t happening.

Your hands slipped out of his grip for a moment, allowing you to claw at the fabric in your mouth in hopes to get it out. But it was too tight, stuck between the barriers of your teeth and while you were distracted with that, Aegon was distracted with yanking your sleeveless dress off.

A scream left you, muffled by the bandage between your lips, a pathetic attempt for someone to hear you.

If you thought that would make Aegon angry, you were wrong. Aegon was a mix of emotions but the one emotion that he was right now, was humoured. You could tell in the way he chuckled into your bare skin, laughing at your attempts to push him away.

This wasn’t the older brother you knew. Aegon was sweet and caring with you, pushing his selfish tendencies to the side to always make you happy. He had never done anything to hurt you, never did anything to make you believe he had this sort of side.

But when his face hovered over yours again, his hands pinning yours to the side. You weren’t even sure this was your big brother at all. His pupils were blown, the violet replaced with a black. This was a monster and as long as you knew Aegon, he had always been some sort of a monster, just never one to your story. Not until now.

“You’re supposed to love me,” Aegon told you, pressing his whole body against your frame. Only the thin fabric of his hospital gown between you both, making you realise how close he was to getting to what he wanted. “You’re supposed to be in love with me.”

He was wedged in between your legs before you noticed, making it impossible for you to move. Especially when his body felt like an immovable weight, suffocating as he lay on top of you.

Eventually you realised he was ignoring your sobs, your trembling body and every slap and scratch to his body. You became limp at this, only shaking from the slight cries leaving your lips. There was nothing left in you to fight anymore, Aegon had won whatever sick game he had been playing.

There was something in him that was pleased at this notion, having you become submissive under his touch. His hands trailed the naked skin of your body, groping at every part as if he had never felt it before. And he was smiling, you could feel his grin pressed into the skin of your chest before his lips pathed their way down your frame.

The sickest part of it all was the fact you couldn’t deny how soft his lips felt across your skin. It was as if he was taking the time to get to know your body, to ingrain the memory into his mind. You hated the way it felt to be underneath him and you pushed away the thought that you could be enjoying this.

It wasn’t right, there wasn’t any way you could be enjoying this.

But when Aegon’s hips grinded into yours, it became harder to deny the possibility of taking your own pleasure from this.

When his head reached between your thighs, you were ready to clamp them down, close them while you had the chance. But Aegon had a strength you never knew about, shoving your thighs apart and holding your hips to the bed.

“Be good for me,” Aegon told you, pressing a few pecks along your inner thigh.

Like a predator, Aegon played with his food, nibbling and kissing the skin around your pussy before even touching it. Something that had you tensing, anticipating what was to come.

But like a starved man, when Aegon finally reaches your cunt, he wastes no time to dive his tongue in between your folds. Your thighs clamped around his head in an instance at the sensations, and Aegon didn’t even seem to fight against them, instead he used his arms to wrap them around them tighter.

You think at some point he said something but was muffled into the lips of your cunt.

Aegon seemed to know exactly what he was doing, when he lapped at your clit, moving his tongue to circle around it before giving it his divine attention. It was as if he already knew all the tricks to your body, your walls already clenching around nothing for him.

You were sure he couldn’t breathe down there, he should have been suffocating from how long he had been down there for but his face only seemed to bury itself further into you. If that was even possible.

Through the bandage stuck between your lips, you managed to let out a few strangled moans not even realising the noises were your own until you could feel Aegon chuckle against you. You struggled to bite them down, your back arching off the bed at the pleasure that was building in your stomach. There was no fighting the orgasm, not even as your hands tried to push his head away from between your legs. It was coming whether you liked it or not.

The way it washed over you was intense, making your arms weak as Aegon held your wrists against the bed. Even when your legs became lax, Aegon didn’t let up, lapping up any juices you had left for him.

“I almost forgot how heavenly you taste,” Aegon whispered, loud enough for you to hear him.

At first with his frame hovering over yours again and his lips kissing over your open mouth, you thought you hadn’t heard it. But it repeated again and again in your head, leaving you numb in a completely different way.

“I think we’ll be able to take this off now,” Aegon spoke, fingers slipping under the bandage behind your head. You didn’t know how he did it but you felt it loosen, your mouth able to fully close. “Better now?”

Aegon’s lips were shoved onto yours, nipping at your lips for some access, one that you were unwilling to give him until he had no other choice but to move his lips elsewhere.

“What did you mean?” You were breathless, your words coming through gasps that left your lips. “Aegon?”

He wasn’t listening, lips hot on your neck as he made his claim to the skin of your throat in purple and blue.

“You-” the words got caught in your throat as he pressed himself against you, his hardness catching you off guard, “You said you almost forgot.”

He began grinding his hips against yours, making you swallow any whimpers that rose from your throat. “I know what I said sister.”

He was listening to you then. When his face came to hover over yours again, the black void from his eyes still clear even in the darkness, you realised you had his full attention. And you knew it wasn’t because he wanted to listen to what you had to say. No. It was because he wanted to watch how you crumbled as he rubbed his cock against your soaked folds.

“Almost forgot how I-” you couldn’t even bring yourself to stay it, fighting against the thought as you closed your eyes. “As if you had-” This time it was a whimper being torn from your throat that stopped you mid sentence, something that made Aegon wickedly grin from above you. “As if you had-”

Then it was his lips cutting you off, intertwining with yours in the softest kiss. His tongue managed to slip in, allowing you to taste your sweetness.

With his mouth on yours, Aegon had you distracted momentarily, using this moment to slip his gown off. You only came to realise when his lips left yours and you could feel his leaking tip pressed against your entrance. Without a moment’s hesitation, Aegon sunk himself into your walls, watching as your lips parted in a harsh gasp as he stretched your walls for the first time.

Your insides screamed in pain while Aegon moaned in pleasure, his hand cupping your cheek.

“As if I had tasted you before,” Aegon finally finished your sentence for you. “As if I had eaten out my sweet little sister before.” He seemed proud of himself, caging you in with a wicked grin. “Don’t worry. I never went this far. I always wanted you to be awake when I finally got to fuck you.”

“You’re sick,” you sobbed, feeling your world crumble around you at his confession.

It wasn’t because he was taking you when you had begged him not to, that he had been doing so for months without you even realising. It was because all those years you had spent with him, always confessing to him in hushed voices how he was your favourite sibling, and how you were his too, were ruined by this. Every memory, every thought, had been twisted into this awful nightmare that your brother had never seen you as his sister.

And as the black of his eyes faded back into the beautiful violet you recognised, you were only reminded that you were living in his sick fantasy.

“The way your pussy is clenching around me right now makes you just as sick as I am,” Aegeon announced, thrusting himself slightly harder into you. “You like this just as much as I like it.”

You wanted to tell him no but one harsh curve of his hips into yours had your throat choked on a moan. A start to many as you felt your walls begin to accept him, eyes fluttering at the feeling of his cock massaging your walls. It was hard to fight against it when your nails were digging into arms for stability.

“You’re fine, baby,” Aegon reassured you, eyes softening at your fucked out expression. “Doesn’t this feel so good? So right?”

“Aegon,” It wasn’t meant to come out in a delicate moan, as if you were asking for more reassurance. At least that’s what you tell yourself as you try to sound more distraught. “Aegon.” This whimper sounds worse than the last one, pathetic as you clenched around him.

“I’ve got you.” Aegon cradles your body with his, intertwining your hands as he holds you. “Trust me.”

You wanted to scream at him, to push his hips from yours as his pace became suddenly frantic. But his hands stayed firm as they pinned yours down, using his lower body to do the rest of the work.

Your legs wriggled, feet pressing against his chest in hopes he would at least slow down. But with this new angle, Aegon was reaching into your stomach, making your legs tremble in a way you didn’t realise was possible.

You were repeating “No.” over and over again, hoping anyone would listen. But even your body was betraying you again as you felt that familiar sensation crawling over your body. You didn’t know how long you’d be able to hold on, trying to fight it off with everything you had left. But Aegon’s pace wasn’t letting up anytime soon and you felt your walls clench around him without warning.

Aegon was moaning into your mouth as this happened and it wasn’t till after the first waves of pleasure could you feel him spilling into your walls.

You were panting after this, trying to catch your breath but it felt impossible. Then there he was again, talking you through it as he wiped the sweat from your forehead.

“You’re fine baby,” Aegon promised, pecking the side of your lips. “I’m just making you feel good.”

When you looked up at him, noticing how he didn’t even seem phased from what had just happened, you realised this was far from over yet. And with your mind starting to slip in and out of consciousness, you couldn’t even seem to care.

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon ii fic #aegon targaryen ii x you #squirmsspooktoberevent

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circeyoru · 2 months

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Unwanted Soul _ Part 6 = Requested

[Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader]

Related Request

Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 2.5 (ask) — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 (here)

That day, that inferno yet glorious day, Alastor met his fated one. His other half, as people would say. In his days alive, he considered himself married to his work. Never courted other ladies even though a number of them were in the palm of his hand, able to bend to his will. Never dated because it was a waste of time when he had better things to do. And never even thought of delicating his life and time to another that wasn’t his mother

But it was after meeting you that there was that want, that need to please and care for you unlike any other. He thought it was a fleeting feeling since you did save him at his lowest, a bit of admiration for your unique power, one of its kind as he sees it. He thought he wanted the power for himself, wanted you on his leash to be his to control

So he tried. Manipulation tactic, words of persuasion, charming personality, and his overwhelming power. These were all at his disposal and he used them all to make you bend like the others in his living life and afterlife. Yet you never did falter. The only thing that was consistent about you was your care and your insistence for him to leave your home

Now he doesn’t want to leave. Not until he figured out what was happening with himself. He can’t maintain his Overlord image with this destruction within himself. So he made all excuses he could to delay his departure. His wound was the reason why you were caring for him and letting him stay, so he’ll just worsen it with the help of his claws and shadows. Your healing abilities can’t keep up? Welp, looks like he has to stay a while longer

“Why rush recovery? Do you really want me gone, Dear?”

“Yes. Now get out. Your playground is not here.”

“Hahaha! No.”

He felt like Alice. The girl that followed the white rabbit down the rabbit hole and found wonderland, following the white rabbit all over the place and experience so much, before waking up to it all being a dream. However, different from Alice, Alastor doesn’t want to leave this wonderland he found. He doesn’t want to wake up from this blissful dream

As luck would have it, you live in the more secluded side of the pentagram and you weren’t as connected to pompous technology that Vox places around the place to stalk demons. Nor were the demons in your area acquainted with the famous and infamous Overlords. There seem to be a silent agreement among your area’s residents to not bring in political or business like matters. Only self-interest

He was pleased to find this place as a little haven away from the spotlight. No demon here cared who Alastor was nor do they want to know, if he was weak, they’ll prey upon him. That was why some demons were trying to take him while you were there to save him. When he first spoke and his staff appeared in his hands, you immediately recognized him

Fear and regret was what he expected to see in your eyes, yet all you display was annoyance and cautiousness. You were quick to set him on his feet and direct him to the door, providing him directions back to the center of the city where he belonged. The fact that you showed him he didn’t belong here set something ablaze in his cold heart

So he stayed longer than what the past him would have liked. The more he learned about you, the deeper he was. He picked up your little habits, your interest hobbies, your peculiar interest, and your wonderful personality

Soon he found a label for all he was doing and feeling. He was under the influence called ‘love’, he remembered his mother telling him that he will find ‘the one for him’, maybe he can explain it or maybe he can’t. Either way, he’ll know in his heart. Whoever that person or being is, that’s his other half

It was you. All you. He learned it through a terrifying experience

“Darling, I’m back from shopping!” Alastor announced into the apartment after entering the front door through the gaps with the help of his shadows, his little minions carrying bags from his outing into the table you had. “My, I brought a lot more than you needed, but I hope you didn’t mind I took a bit lon—!”

His eyes turned to radio dials when he realized the familiar scent of iron was in your apartment. His grip on his crane tightened as he followed it, stronger and stronger, until he stopped in front of your bedroom door. No question, it was coming from here. His hand removed itself from behind his back to grip the doorknob, the other bringing his crane to his side.

His gaze shifted from the doorknob to in front of him. Usually, you would have told him not to creepily stand in the front of your door. Why aren’t you telling him to enter? Why aren’t you calling him out? Why was it silent?

In a swift movement, he turned the knob and opened the door. The scent of blood was suffocating, he didn’t think he’ll mind it ever after his new-found interest in murder. Yet when it came to yours, it was suffocating him like he was being pushed under the ocean.

Amidst the shock of it all, he let go of his crane and it dropped to the ground while he made his way to your giant comfortable bed. His eyes darted all over the place. Red. So much red. The bed was soaked in red. Red. Red? Blood. Blood? Why? Where? Your waist, why is there a knife sticking out of it? Your eyes are closed.

Sleeping? Dead? Dead? Dead?

“Dear!” Alastor got onto your bed, his hand hovering over your body as he tried to think of something. “What do I…? Who did this?”

Your eyes fluttered open, he was shocked to see the lack of spark in them, your head tilted up to meet his gaze yet it wasn’t focused. “Al..astor… You’re… here?”

Alastor eyed, “Why wouldn’t I? You sent me to buy restock your supplies! Your locations were all over the place so it took me some time to complete.”

“I sent… you farther away… so that… you’ll leave…” You spoke so monotonously, “Why are… you back…?”

“That’s beside the point! Who attacked you? Who hurt you?! Who put you in such a state?” Alastor demanded, the static grow deafening but you weren’t even affected.

Your dull eyes blinked, “I did.” You reached for the knife, only to hover your hand over the handle, “I did it… to remind myself… some…thing…”

Alastor flinched when you pulled it out, his eyes narrowing as your blood pooled and stained the bed red. Red is a favourite of his. Red that painted his victims. Red that removed his father. Red that was covering you. You don’t look good in your own red. It’s a horrid colour on you.

“You should leave… me…” Your words snapped him out of his thoughts.

In the blink of an eye, he had that healing page you gave him for emergency and slapped it onto your open wound, he stared at it until the page glowed and started its work. You stiffened and jerked from the sudden pressure on your wound.

There, your spark returned, even if it’s just a bit. “What are you—!”

Alastor leaned close, keeping his hand firmly against your healing wound. He got close until he was next to your ear as if whispering a secret. “If you wanted me gone through self-harming, think again, nothing will make me leave you, My Doe. If nothing else, it makes me want to stay longer.”

You glared at him, but slowly relaxed as consciousness seem to fade. Involuntarily, your head leaned against head as your slept. Alastor cradled you, keeping you in place. He eyed the knife still in your hand and took it, burning it with his flame till nothing was left of it.

A mistake of yours was your insistence for his absence. The more you wanted him gone, the more he tried and showed you that it was impossible to get rid of him. His love and fascination turned darked and twisted, becoming obsessive and possessive that he knew it wasn’t the pure love that his mother described or those ladies wanted from him

Oddly enough, you handled him and his feelings like it was natural. The fact that you carry yourself so cool and unbothered, you accepting it all and using it to your advantage. It was exhilarating, like it was a green light to amp up the intensity. He can give you more and more of his affection and love

More. More. MORE

When he learned that you never dealt with souls before, never received a soul or given your soul to another demon all this time while you were in Hell. His idea of giving you his soul made to him. He wants to be your first and he wants you to be his first. He own souls, yes, but he never thought of giving his soul to another to own and rule over him, he can’t imagine that

With you though, he can. To be yours. To have a reminder that you will be his. Everytime he ghost his neck, there was be his reminder. You’ll call for him, you’ll use him, you’ll only think of relying on him. Oh, just thinking of it was divine. Simply divine

You accepting his offer gave him such a rush. He was yours. It wouldn’t take too long until you were his. Well, in his mind and dreams, you were already his when he came to terms with his love for you, but this relationship was two way, not one. He’s patient. Besides, with you, time proves a lot

At first, you didn’t want him in your apartment, then you saw it as normal that he was there, even when he was doing your chores and taking care of you in more ways than one. Shopping? Check. Cleaning? Check. Meals? Check. Snacks? Check. Desserts? Check. There’s no expenses spared for you. You slowly appreicated his hardwork and dedication to you and gave him rewards you weren’t even aware of

Everything was fine. Everything was perfect

Until you saw that insufferable advertisement presented by that dreamer of a princess Charlotte Morningstar. You little interest in the project was enough to send him away. The rage he felt when he was forced to leave your side to serve someone else. He shouldn’t have left you alone then

“We’re so happy to have you with us at the Happy Hotel!”

“Hazbin Hotel. I’m sure we’ll have a wonderful time.”

Lucky he found a loophole to your orders and could contract you via his radio. Else he doesn’t know how much he could take without you near him. Your voice would suffice for now. Then came his time to prove his usefulness to you, Overlord meetings were very confidential, not that you were interested, but sometimes there were juicy moments and secrets learned

He kept you as his little secret, his little treasure to keep hidden. Even when Zestial asks about his disappearance and Carmilla’s shock to his appearance. He kept you off the table. When he learned of Carmilla’s little stunt, he was excited to tell you. You could form angelic weapons, so it was definitely a useful information for you

And he was rewarded for his efforts. A visit to your apartment. Away from that prison of a hotel. He immediately (strictly) told Charlie he was busy with important stuff for the entire day not to disturb him ot request his help on anything

Alastor has to admit, he nearly lost himself when you appeared before his eyes when he was knocked back by Adam. You protecting him and fighting for him. Him. How could he not be in a daze? But his heart broke when you were hurt by that disgusting so-called angel. That red wasn’t a good look on you. No. Not again

He brought you away to attempt healing you. But this was something done by holy power, not something even you can easily heal from. On the surface you looked to be healed, but you were sleeping again. He hugged you tightly in his arms. Don’t disappear on him

This place reeks of death, there’s a chill in the air

And we barely escaped being killed by a hair

“Great Alastor, altruist, died for his friends”?

Sorry to disappoint… That was never the case!

I’m hungry for your gaze like never before

The constrains of our deal surely have your interest

Once I figure out how to hold your love tightly

Guess who will staying to help that hotel?!

The hotel was the cause of this. Yet he was the cause of your appearance because he wasn’t strong enough to handle Adam. He resented that fact, but his heart beat loudly when he replayed the scene where you fought him. Then that confession where you missed him, if it was any other time, he’d be over the moon hearing that

To him, it felt like an eternity before you woke up again and things were relatively back to normal. You stayed in the hotel with him, you were by his side, you were portrayed to be his assistant, you were his (in his mind). Then the others found out about you. Lucifer was enough of a pain, now there was more

Still, it was worth seeing that you weren’t quick to warm up to them. He took 7 years and then some, why would they be unique? Not to mention they don’t care for you like he does. He was the unique one

Oh, then Mimzy. That demon he thought was his friend. He didn’t care much for her harsh words, not when you were there to push it all away. It was crushing to hear it, the unfiltered thoughts Mimzy talked about him to you. Yet that look on your face was odd, were you feeling angry on his behalf? For him?

He thought that you would tell Mimzy off then when you leave, he’ll have a word with Mimzy. If you didn’t like her then maybe a new voice on the broadcast would do. You never minded his ways of punishing those you are displeased with, so it was fine

What he didn’t expect was you scolding Mimzy, giving her a piece of your mind. You defended him, you cared about him. Surely you did. Why else were you that aggressive?

“What was that?”

“I said, I love you!”

Alastor couldn’t stop himself and asked you, he told himself he was dreaming. He thought he was when you disappeared in the blink of an eye. But the look he got from the residents in the lobby proved otherwise. First thing’s first. He snapped his fingers and had Mimzy devoured by his shadows, it was a minor torture, he’ll get to the fun part later

Now you had his attention

When he appeared in your shared room, you were all wrapped up in your fluffy blanket in the corner of the bed. Despite his joy and excitement, he dialed it down. You come first, just hearing those words from your sweet lips was enough

“My Darling,” Alastor took a seat on the bed, next to you. “If it was the slip of a tongue, I can forget about it.” He’s lying and he knows you know it, still you’d lie to yourself until it was true. For him, just knowing you care for him so is enough. “You have done nothing that I know of. You have confirmed nothing.”

Perhaps it was because he was accepting that he needs to forget it all and act the same, or that it was giving you your space. Either way, he didn’t react when you suddenly moved and pinned him down to the bed. His eyes wide while his smile spread wider, this position is perfect, your face above him that he could stare at forever and never get bored.

When his mind matched what happened, his eyes drooped and his ears twitched, his smile shrank a bit and his hands reached for you, wanting to pull you in. You let him and he hugged you, placing your ear to his beating heart then he hugged onto your waist.

“Don’t you dare forget about it.” Your words pierced the silence, he could feel his heart beating louder. “Remember it. Engrave it into your mind, body, and soul.” Your head shifted and you got up a bit, you moved so close to his lips. When you weren’t talking, all he could hear was the beating of his heart. “Never betray my love, Alastor.”

A sweet moment where you two shared a kiss. Finally.

“Yes. Of course. Absolutely. My Darling Love.”

You were all his to call Love.

Note: Surprise!!! We really never had a part that's dedicated to Alastor, so here's one. I think it's a bit rushed at the end or lack of details, but those are mostly covered in the parts before this. Hope you guys liked this one~

Oh right! If you haven't please vote on what will happen next here. There might be one more part before it gets to that. Idk the progress.

*For the people that haven't got a reply to this series' requests; 2 possibilities: either I need time writing them or they would be included in future parts and I don't want to spoil them as trivia~

Circe Y.

Other Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@aconfusedwonderland @crowleysthings @donustellaron @mistpurpl3 @nevermore-ramblings @justboredforreal @youroneandonlysimp @falsemain @scenteddelusion5 @anni1600 @readergirlstuff @salutations-demonsanddappers @mistpurpl3 @haruskrd @biadoll21 @speedycoffeedelight @wendds @paninibit @emperatris-rinaka

#Circe's Nighty Writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #Unwanted Soul

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kimhargreeves · 1 year

Text

Firefly-Hotaru Haganezuka x Reader

Summary: You've arrived at the Swordsmith village. There you are desperately trying to find Haganezuka but he keeps avoiding you, since you broke your sword, soon you realize he's also been avoiding you for a different reason.

It's been about two years and a half since I became a Hashira. In my time as one of the Pillars I came across many demons, good and bad, I would get injured a lot often than I would've liked to but it's part of the job. Though, not only I would take damage but my sword as well.

As soon as my sword would be broken I would have it repaired without question, though lately I got a very threatening letter from my swordsmith.

I clenched onto it and got weirded out by all the cussing and not so readable other letters if was spread across. I sighed and decided to take matters into my own hand, to go to the village myself.

Unfortunately I would not be able to head on my own since the village is hidden and I would have to be blindfolded and carried all the way there. God knows how long the trip was going to take.

"So, tell me who is your Swordsmith?!" The female Kakushi who was carrying me asked. We had been talking for a while.

"Mr Haganezuka! Thought I don't know if he'll want to make another sword for me."

At the mention of his name I felt the female Kakushi tense. "H-He's your Swordsmith?! I do hope he doesn't kill you."

"There's no way he'll kill someone like me!" I exclaim and held my cheeks and blushed. I began to remember the first and few times we had met up with each other, when I first became a Demon Slayer.

"(Y/N), your Swordsmith is here." My master the one who taught me all about slaying demons said picking me up from my room since I was resting since I was all bruised with a broken rib due to my training.

I quickly got myself up on my feet and met up with my master in the backyard garden and saw a tall man hiding his face.

"Mr. Haganezuka this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is the man who from now on will forge your swords-"

"That depends is she won't be a brat and break my precios swords."

"Huh?" Both my Master and I hummed and were taken back when Haganezuka all of the sudden stared at us and pointed at me with his finger then at the sword.

I blushed under the man's gaze, unsure is he was indeed glaring at me. "This sword was made with the best minerals I could find closest to the sun and made with rich-"

Wow is this man dedicated at making swords, and telling how they're made in detail. "Great! So tell me what to do!" I clapped my hands together and realized we were alone since my Master probably went to fetch something for Haganezuka to eat.

"Grab it the sword. Depending on the color is reveals your sword will be strong or weak."

"I don't believe in such things since the Slayer must be the powerful one, sure the blade helps but-" I shut my mouth when I felt his eyes on me as if telling me to shut up.

I decided to not say anything further on and instead grabbed the sword and held it in my hands, it changed almost nothing, just a light silver colored almost white. I jumped up when Haganezuka let out a scream saying how dull and not interesting the color was.

"Haganezuka calm yourself down." My Master said not fazed by his sudden outburst.

That was the first time I had met him….

"So you're a Hashira now?" Haganezuka calmly said setting my new sword down and handing it to me.

I nodded my head smiling, "Yes, i didn't expect it to happen but it did. I fought a strong upper demon. I swore to protect those less stronger than me, besides, I just found out I have a cousin who just started his demon slaying practice."

"Congratulations. Though don't get so confident just because your a Hashira now." I watched Haganezuka unveil the new and beautiful sword.

I held it up and examined how beautifully it was made. "Though my fighting skills wouldn't have been impressive without your swords, this will surely scare the demons. Thank you Mr. Haganezuka."

I bowed my head and raised it back up and saw him staring at me through the odd mask, he said nothing.

"Though this'll be the last time I'll do it! This if the fourth swords I made and it can't get any better than this." He threatened.

I started to remember my Masters words and the one of the other Swordsmith. "Haganezuka is an awful temper, if things were to get out of hand, tickle his sides."

I hummed at the memory of those words but decided to say nothing and I smiled at him.

"And what are you smiling for?!"

"Oh nothing!" I sang.

I reached out and grabbed a bento I did with mitarashi dango since I've seen Haganezuka is a fan of it. "Here, I did these for you!"

I held out the box and saw Haganezuka open the box and examine it. "I've seen you always enjoy it, and don't want you leaving on an empty stomach."

I was taken back when I saw light bubbles coming from out of the mask. What the hell?? I commented against it and smiled.

"Why not eat just one here?!" I suggested wanting to see behind the mask. I carefully reached out and lifted the mask just a bit and I felt him gripping the wrist tightly, slowly not applying pressure.

"Quit it Hashira! if you know what's best for you, get working and quit minding other's business." Haganezuka huffed and started walking away.

The next time I had seen Haganezuka was when I was leaving for another mission and stumbled upon Tanjiro Kamado. I have heard from him before, Giyu was the one who informed me of him and his demon sister Nezuko.

They intrigued me especially since I had learned that they are my long distance cousins. I had written to Tanjiro once congratulating him when I learned he passed the exam.

When I was still a little girl I was adopted to a family, since my real parents were killed by demons trying to protect me and their village. I don't remember anything about them but I am grateful that I was adopted into a loving home. Unfortunately, they were also taken away from me. But now I'm happy to know that I have a bit of family left.

"Hello Tanjiro!" I exclaimed smiling at the dark red haired boy.

"(Y/N)! I received your letter. Thank you your words were if help!" I smiled at the boys enthusiasm.

"We only have each other left, might as well keep encouraging each other's work." I said giving him a thumbs up and I looked over and saw Haganezuka with another Swordsmith.

"Haganezuka!" I cheered and saw him flinch at my sudden shout. "Long time no see, I guess I'm always lucky that I run into you." I laughed and saw the man looking away from me and murmuring something at his partner.

Tanjiro looked at me then Haganezuka. "You both know each other?" He asked tilting his head.

"No"

"Yes we do!" I said ignoring Haganezuka's words as I blushed. "Anyway I have a long missions ahead of me. See you later." I gave a peace sign to Tanjiro and Haganezuka and started running off to my mission.

"I genuinely think he's a great and kind man despite being so loud and frightening at times." I recalled as the Kakushi continued to carry me.

"I do hope you are right, Miss (Y/N)." Anyways we are here."

The Kakushi placed me on my feet and I began to unwrap the bandage around my eyes and I stared in awe at the village in front of me.

"Wow it's so beautiful!" I gasped.

The Kakushi next to me chuckled and bowed her head. "Glad to know it exceeded your expectations. I hope for us to meet in the future once more."

"The pleasure has been all mine." I smiled and bowed my head as well.

I kept staring at everywhere the further I began to walk into the village. I saw many people working and kids playing around, I still wonder why they keep hyotokko masks on their faces. I started walking towards where I assume is the chiefs place, I walked up the stairs and was greeted by two men in masks and they took me in to see the chief.

I patiently waited for the man to speak when I saw knelt down on the tatami floor. "Miss (Y/N). I had been expecting you, young lady."

I hummed and bowed my head down the floor and greeted myself to him. "It's an honor to meet you Chief Tecchin!"

"My what manners and dedication. You remind me of the young boy that came earlier today."

"Boy?" I ask raising my head back up.

The man nodded his head, despite the small stature I could tell he is highly respected here and he looks sorta cute too.

"He had a green and black haori with hanafuda earrings."

So that means Tanjiro is here as well. "I assume you are here for Haganezuka am I correct?"

"Yes, sir. You see Tanjiro is my cousin and we both were assigned to Haganezuka. My sword broke easily this time though it was my fault for-"

"No. It wasn't your fault, he didn't forge a sword with his best intentions which is why it breaks easily." The man said in a serious voice. He suddenly got scary like Haganezuka.

"I-I don't think-"

"We'll give him a beating for not working correctly and denying to make a sword for a lady as yourself." The man next to the Chief said with the Chief eagerly nodding his head.

So scary.

"Where is he anyways?" I asked wanting to see Haganezuka.

"Hotaru has run off as of lately. Wanting to be alone as usual." The Chief told me.

"Hotaru? Is that his first name?" I ask intrigued to know a bit more about him.

"Mhm I picked it myself! Though Hotaru doesn't like his name saying it's to cute for a man like him."

"I think it's such a cute and lovely name." I blushed and held my face together. Firefly. That's what his name means. Though he surely isn't as fragile as one.

"Happy to know someone else agrees with me. I adopted the boy when he was just a child."

I sat just a bit closer paying attention to his words and finding myself wanting to see Hotaru again. So we have more in common that I thought. He also lost his parents like me.

"Did Hotaru lose his parents as well?"

The Chief stared at me and shook his head. "Nope. His parents couldn't keep up with his anger so I took him as my own."

Oh damn. My body froze since I didn't expect that.

"You did lose yours did you not? Do you have any memories of them?

I stared down at my lap and back at the Chief to show respect. "Unfortunately I don't have any memories of them. All that I know if that they protected the village they had been living and everyone was massacred by a demon, I believe it was Muzan Kibutsuji."

"You are (Y/N) (L/N) are you not? I remember your parents, they were a part of this village you see. Your father was born here and while trusting outside he met your mother, she agreed to move to the village with him but over time they left, you were born here (Y/N). That means that this is your home as well and you are welcome to stay for as long as you'd like."

I stared at the Chief surprised that he knew both my parents. A few years escaped from my eyes and I cleaned them with the sleeve of my haori and thanked the Chief to telling me all he knew about my parents.

"You are more than welcome to also enjoy of our hot springs. It can heal any wound or broken heart." The Chief sang and moved his hands around.

What does he mean by that?

"If Hotaru isn't seen in a day or two I'll be more than happy to assign a new swordsmith for you." The man said bowing his head. He's the one who made Shinobu's sword.

"I understand." I frowned not wanting to have a new person making my sword, but I have to put my feelings aside and be focused on my mission, to get a new sword done.

"Follow me." I bowed my head to chief Tecchin and followed one of masked men who was with him.

I silently started to follow him and noticed the sky was turning darker as well. "Do you wish to eat first or take a bath?"

"Bath is fine since I feel filthy." Though being in a bath while eating sounds like a great idea.

"Is there something bothering you?" I glanced at the masked man.

"It's about Hotaru isn't it?"

I flinched and froze when we stopped by a few stairs and I felt his eyes on me. "You're worried that a new swordsmith might not make your sword as you want to."

"..Right..of course." I breathed out thankful that he doesn't know the real reason.

"Well, the hot springs is just above the stairs. You're more than welcome to take your time and join us for dinner once you are finished." The man bowed his head and started to leave.

I heard a familiar caw and felt my crow land on my shoulder. "Might as well relax for a bit right" I asked and saw my crow flap it's wings when I began to climb up the stairs.

I felt like my legs were about to give up. I started to take my belt off along wiith my haori and began to unbutton my uniform when I heard another caw from my crow.

"Don't worry I won't take long, there's no one here anyways. You really are a hungry bird." I sighed glaring at the bird and beginning to undress myself completely until I was bare and submerged myself further into the hot waters.

"Food always tastes better while eating with someone else."

I nod along to Tanjiro's words. Right after taking a bath I arrived to meet up with Tanjiro and Nezuko. I hadn't realized that Mitsuri was here as well until Tanjiro told me about it, Shinazugawa's younger brother was also at the village.

"Indeed. So are you saying that you also came here for a sword?"

"Mr. Haganezuka seems to be avoiding me." Tanjiro pouted.

Glad to know I'm not the only one thinking about it. "Don't worry we can both go looking for him. I'm sure he isn't far off from the village."

I noticed Tanjiro's stare on me and looked at him surprised when I saw a blush on his face. "You've always spoken fond of Mr. Haganezuka. Is there maybe-"

"I just feel high admiration for his work! Nothing more!" I blushed as well and tried brushing the topic off.

Can't believe I'm having this conversation with someone younger than me. I continued to rambled on, "Besides as slayers we can't get close to people."

"I disagree!" Tanjiro exclaimed earning a hum from his sister. "That's what makes life beautiful as well, meeting new people and forming a close bond."

I smiled at Tanjiro and nodded once. "Seems like Kyojuro taught you well." I sadly said remembering my best friend.

"Tomorrow morning let's train and go out bets then." I gave him a thumbs up and earned a nod from him and Nezuko.

****"

The next morning Tanjiro and I met up with s boy from the village, Kotetsu, and the mist Hashira, Muichiro Tokito. As Hashira we have encountered with each other many times, but he doesn't seem to remember me that much or talk at all only when necessary.

Muichiro was aggressive and broke down the ancient doll the village boy had in his possession. The three of us fixed it up a bit and I let Tanjiro train with the doll since I had fought with it but was extremely hard.

The doll was designed after the first demon slayer. If fighting the doll was hard enough, I couldn't imagine fighting him in the flesh. I decided to stay with Tanjiro just for a bit, to cheer him on.

I made Tanjiro stand up straight in a certain position and hold the wooden katana he had right. The young masked boy gasped when Tanjiro was swept to it's feet and was knocked out. I was nearby going over back to Tanjiro when I heard a familiar voice.

Is that Hotaru?!

I began to quicken my pace and run over calling out his name. I noticed the young boy turn around looking at me in a panic and I saw Haganezuka's tall figure running fast away from us.

"Haganezuka! Come back here you coward." I shouted and stared at the direction he left and pouted.

I clenched my fists together and glared at where he left, also feeling a bit heartbroken that he didn't face me. I moved quickly to look at the masked boy, Kotetsu.

"You! Why didn't you say anything?!" The boy shrieked when he saw my cold expression.

"I-I don't know what you mean Hashira!" He shouted back.

"I lowered down a bit and glared at the boy and pointing at him, "I've told you my name is (Y/N)!"

The boy looked back at me and said nothing, "(Y/N)…right no wonder I've heard the name before. Mr. Haganezuka has spoken about you."

Tilting my head to the side I could notice Kotetsu muttering something to himself and a blush across the mask. Is everyone is this village weird?

"Good things I hope." I huffed and decided to go back and help Tanjiro up to his feet. "Anyways there's no time for me to be chasing that childish man, better help Tanjiro back up."

I helped Tanjiro up and gave him at least a sip of water since Kotetsu refused to give him any. "Ready to do this Tanjiro?"

My cousin Tanjiro was weak but he refused to give up. I gave him a thumbs up and watched Tanjiro begin to continue training.

#hotaru haganezuka #demon slayer #swordsmith village arc #kimetsu no yaiba #haganezuka x reader #tanjiro x genya #nezuko kamado #demon slayer genya #mitsuri kanroji

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a-local-idiots-shitpost · 1 year

Note

Can I request the brothers with a half demon MC?

Yes and I hope you´ll like it, I also added Diavolo because I thought it would be interesting, hope you don´t mind :D

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lucifer:

a half Demon? how interesting, it seems like Diavolo´s plan to unite all three realms already succeeded, even more so without them knowing

honestly he will be a lot more strict in the beginning simply because he thinks your more durable than a simple Human

I mean he´s right you are more durable than a simple Human but he still shouldn´t treat you like his Brother

he´s pretty brutal sometimes

after that? I mean everybody knows they will be simps

but he will show you of every chance he get´s only difference between normal Mc is that when you can use your Demon form he will invite you only to show off

bonus points if your a Pride Demon, this will just increase his Pride

Mammon:

during the first meeting he mistook you for a new Demon and tried to take your money

needless to say Lucifer caught him

didn´t stop him from trying to take your money afterwards though, or any time after this until you got your pact with him

he will definitely say he doesn´t care that your partially Demon but watch his face when he finds out your Parent was a Greed Demon, which in turn also means you are one

he´s trying to impress you with things any Greed Demon would be impressed with, mostly a lot of valuables

it might take him a while to understand that you won´t be swayed by this

and that you don´t even act like Greed Demons usually do (blame the Human parts)

Leviathan:

he feels threatened by you for some reason??? a Human who until a short while ago didn´t even know they were partially Demon???

or maybe it´s because he can tell your an Envy Demon and doesn´t want you taking his title, actually would that even be possible?

Whatever! he only needed you to trick Mammon no reason for the both of you to ever interact again

if only he knew that not only will he eat those words but also deeply regret them

because not only are you very charming but now he has someone who can understand his Envy

I mean his Brothers can say they understand how he feels (they won´t) but there is no one better than Envy Demon to know what another Envy Demon is gong through with!

even if they are just half

honestly I feel like you guys could have an even deeper bond, more so if you´re an shut in Otaku too (but he probably won´t believe you)

Satan:

was genuinely curious if your birth was as weird as his

he knows it won´t be but he´s curious about the challenges of a Half Demon, Half Human (especially if you´re a Wrath one)

did it cause you problems later in live? for example more aggressive behavior? social isolation? trouble seeing yourself as your own person and not an extension of your parent?

the last one might be more personal

will definitely invite you to fuck shit up with him and maybe the occasional murder

just casual Wrath bonding you know?

he´s very curious about your life until you meet them, for example how old are you? I´m sure you´ll live a lot longer than the average Human

oh? why he´s asking that? no reason :)

Asmodeus:

doesn´t matter what type of Demon you are, even if you were his own Sin, as long as you aren´t interesting he won´t care about you

until he finds out you are immune against his charm and of course most important of all the untapped potential and power you have

then he´s all over you, the both of you are actually quiet inseparable

more so because of Asmo but you also enjoy spending time with him a lot

he´s very nice to you and always makes you look great

when he doesn´t get distract by you literally just looking at him that is

if that happens he will drop (metaphorically of course, those things are very expensive!) everything to keep eye contact with you

despite his charm being very useful it´s just so nice to look someone in the eyes without them being under his spell

I mean of course you are under his spell but it´s not because of Magic<3

Beelzebub:

definitely won´t like you staying with them

what if you eat his food? he knows best how Gluttony Demons are, even if you say no there is no way you would be able to hold back

didn´t believe you when you said Mammon made you eat the Custard and actually tried to kill you

Lucifer was actually surprised that despite this both of you befriended each other

Beel literally went from “I don´t want them” to “if anything happened to Mc I would kill everybody and then myself”

because your friends now he doesn´t mind sharing his food with you either, especially when he notices you haven´t eaten in a long while (ten minutes)

he does not know because your only Half Demon your Sin doesn´t affect you as bad

Belphegor:

well this will be awkward

I mean you did free him and made pacts with his brothers, but your still partially Human so…

yeah he was still a dick but at least he hesitated for a moment and got kicked in the face :)

which ended in a brawl between both of you, they needed Beel and Mammon to separate both of you

after that you became friends? everybody is just as confused as you on how this works

honestly it seems like the only time he was interested in you being partially Demon was when both of you meet

now he just uses you as his pillow and doesn´t care what you are

Diavolo:

a Half Demon how marvelous! he didn´t even start the exchange program and it already shows results

now all he need to find you an Angel and all three Realms would be united…

oh you heard that!? oh… you didn´t actually? great! it wasn´t anything interesting anyway!

spoilers he will regret thinking about setting you up with an Angel, he thinks you would be a better ruler for the Devildom :D

he´s definitely interested in the history of your family, which parent is the Human? did you ever enter the Devildom? can you use magic? do you have a Demon form? and countless more

maybe you would be willing to talk with him over Dinner?

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idyllic-affections · 1 year

Note

Hello! I really appreciate that you are willing to write platonic fics🥹 Can I request douma with gn reader? Can be any trope you want

the founder's companion.

summary. doma has a child now! what could possibly go wrong?

trigger & content warnings. canon-typical blood & violence, cult discussions, doma is his own warning.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff. doma & demon!child!reader. 0.6k words. they/them pronouns for reader.

author's thoughts. hello dear! not only am i willing to write platonic fics, i ONLY write platonic fics teehee..... though i have posted other demon slayer requests, you were my first, so thank you! that's so real of you 🙏 this is pretty short, i'm sorry! if you would like a bit of a longer post, please do send in a slightly more specific request.

doma definitely has a habit of picking up random, orphaned, half-dead kids off of the street. he would totally do it all the time. he picks up random kids and turns them into demons. he just thinks they're so pitiful! it's so sad, he could just cry for them... seeing poor little children with no other hope forsake humanity and slowly become cruel demons is very entertaining for him, though. children are the pinnacle of human innocence, after all.

because of this, literally no-one is surprised when he shows up to an upper moon meeting with some kid balanced on his hip.

did he procreate??? did he take them under his wing after murdering their entire village?????? who knows. the other upper moons sure as hell don't. they don't care to either.

(akaza is kind of worried though because what the fuck? who let doma of all demons have a child??)

doma is oddly enamored with them, cooing at the way they absentmindedly toy with the ends of his blonde hair.

it's almost as if they feel no fear, no concern over the fact that the third most powerful demon in existence is holding them in his arms as if they were his own child... not that doma would feel anything towards a child of his own, of course.

if anything, the child he holds seems downright bored, murmuring some incoherent complaint about being dragged along again as they tiredly lay their head on upper moon two's shoulder, drifting in and out of consciousness.

the fact that they hold little fear towards muzan is also very concerning, but perhaps that has to do with the cult leader's influence; he sure as hell doesn't fear muzan, why should he teach them to?

they have no regard for... any demon, for that matter. the upper moons are collectively quite surprised to see them smile slightly at doma; it's the most expressive that little kid has been since the demons laid eyes on them... maybe that's part of why he took them in? their overall minimal expression seems to have made doma fond of them.

when they do express something, however...

their little fanged grin is very cute in doma's eyes. he thinks they're very cute. <3

he says shit like "you're so cute, i could just eat you up!" but he's dead serious. they genuinely don't give a single fuck. they probably just reply with something like "do it. i dare you. coward. you won't."

they're right, he won't.

(he could; he just chooses not to.)

i wholeheartedly believe daki and gyutaro would be jealous of them. doma knows this. he finds it funny, or as funny as an emotionless demon could find something to be, anyway.

those two know better than to harass them, though. it's in their best interests to let that child be, no matter how jealous it makes them.

doma is not the demon to enrage. the siblings know that; it's best that they don't push their luck with him.

the eternal paradise cult adores them.

(it's mostly because they wouldn't dare do anything to upset their founder, but still! some of those people are genuinely enamored with lord doma's little companion.)

everyone's always doting on them, spoiling them with the same twisted, religious love that they treat doma with.

what's really worrying, though, is that this demon child will inevitably grow into the same twisted habits that doma has.

akaza worries that they'll end up like him.

upper moon three is a demon; he's not heartless (some demons are, he supposes, but he is not one of them).

his concerns are reasonable.

because really, when faced with doma's tendencies towards messy bloodshed and violence, all they do is huff and point to a newly stained carpet: "look what you did. you got her blood on the new carpet, doma-sama. that will never come out."

demons have twisted relationships, but at the very least... doma's done nothing to hurt them.

hopefully, he never does.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out a lot!

#aphelion's headcanons 🌸#aphelion's requests 🌸#platonic demon slayer #platonic demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #platonic kny x reader #douma x reader #doma x reader #kimetsu no yaiba headcanons #kimetsu no yaiba x reader

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kin-the-muffin · 2 months

Text

i currently have a half-baked theory about alastor…

ok so in the finale, he said that he wants freedom, meaning he has been restricted in some way. but as far as we’ve seen and can tell, he is basically free to do as he wishes. and of course there’s the theory with lilith being the one owning his soul, which he might have traded away to gain such insane amounts of power. but what has he ever done that didn’t seem to be in his best interest?

charlie.

yea, yea, i hear you and your sassy clips of him saying he’s helping the hotel simply for boredom’s sake and that he enjoys watching people try to do something meaningful but then fail in the process but! that would imply that he’d done so before, but we have never, not once, ever heard that he even dabbled in such a thing. (and don’t you dare try to tell me that he actually cares about charlie, the man is the most manipulative, sadistic little mf i’ve ever seen, and that’s saying something because i’ve seen miraculous ladybug and hate liela rossi as much as anyone else.) the only things we know about his past is that he appeared in hell very suddenly with lots of power, he toppled countless overlords overnight, and his radio podcast killed tons of demons. nothing of this has to do with other beings in hell trying to make it better (as i highly doubt any of those overlords had good intentions since they were, well, overlords). but he doesn’t seem the type to do things meaninglessly, he always has ulterior motives.

but then if his excuses of entertainment are as flimsy as i’m making them out to be then why would he ever help charlie? well, i think that brings us back to lilith. it’s far from a rarely-noticed detail that the length of alastor and her’s disappearances were for the same amount of time and while we know that lilith spent that time in heaven (if that even is lilith, but idk enough about that theory so i’m just gonna assume that it’s her and that she’s been in heaven the whole time), we don’t have a smack-dab CLUE as to what alastor was up to during his vacay. then he just shows up out of nowhere, at the idealistic princess of hell’s doorstep of all places.

well, i’ve had a sneaking suspicion for a while that lilith’s deal (at least part of it), in exchange for his power, was to help charlie in some way. i’m thinking that’s why he seemed so torn-up about how he almost ‘died for his friends’. he doesn’t care for any of them (except maybe nifty but i think that’s just bonding over shared mania (i think rosie (and maybe zestial) is the only one he truly, honestly cares about, but i get the feeling that even that relationship is pretty business-based)).

we have no idea what lilith is like, we have absolutely zero characterization of her except for what charlie explains about her in episode 1, that she’s passionate and hardworking and stubborn and independent—qualities that charlie mostly has in abundance. so i would say that she’s cared about charlie this whole time but due to whatever is keeping her in heaven, she can’t help her, except that lilith seems a little too malevolent to care about charlie’s hotel. why would she? she fell in love with a dreamer who shared her rebellious heart and for this, she was the first human soul cast into hell. she has never had any kind of reason as to why she would ever want to go to heaven, or anyone else for that matter (as she did work to make hell into the semi-civil place it is now). and we have no idea how close she and charlie were before she left (i suspect we’ll learn more about that in season 2), so we can’t assume that she’ll just support charlie, whatever her aspirations may be. so i honestly have no idea as to why lilith would enlist alastor to help charlie, but i am fairly convinced that this is the case of what’s happened.

thoughts?

#kin’s rambles #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel theory #hazbin hotel thoughts #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel lilith #lilith morningstar #hazbin hotel charlie #charlie morningstar #also the fact that husk never noted his seven-year absence is…suspicous to say the least #he never made a quip like ‘dangit i thought youd finally died’ or anything that implied he’d known #maybe alastor was just keeping a low profile but needed to continue business and thus kept contact with a few of his contracted souls?#then again mimzy never mentioned his absence either… and i dont think rosie did #idk whats up with this man but dangit i hope we get answers

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scary-lasagna · 4 months

Note

I was re-reading the slender beings lore and I’m honestly surprised Mother wouldn’t arrange a forced marriage with Slender but just for the sake of this ask how would the other 3 brothers react to Slender being forced to marry someone so their mother wouldn’t die

can't remember if i ever posted the lore for Mother and Slender's father. Mother was being forced into an arranged marriage but met Slender's father and they ran off together and i think that's beautiful ngl <3 But due to this, she wouldn't force him, if anything he's forcing himself out of guilt and fear.

Slender Brothers

Slender would try his best to keep up the facade of enjoying himself on the daily of this new relationship. But in reality, there was no way in hell did he truly love this poor woman who was shrouded by his charades.

She was just in love with the idea of being in love with such a stature as Slender was in the Underrealm, it was basically marrying into royalty.

And as long as he was more powerful than her, the offspring would amount to a Slenderbeing with some underlying traits of her demonic blood.

Splendor and Trender held Slender in the highest respect of happiness. They never thought he would find someone that he truly loved and wanted to settle down with. Let alone move away from the manor completely.

But Offender, he could tell something was off. Afterall, this is his area of specialty.

It's just too strange how quickly Slender took to this woman, how quickly he was willing to sacrifice everything he has built to be with her, and especially how he's always so hesitant to touch and kiss her in front of others.

Offender would pull him aside, and as gently as he could, ask Slender if he truly loved his woman.

And of course, Slender would scoff, and shove his brother to the side in fake offense, but the younger caught his wrist.

The weight of everything proved too much, and Slender confessed every single thought plaguing his brain, which seemed to be falling apart at the seems.

"If you tell anyone, you will never see anyone here again, do you understand? Especially Mother, she must not know. Ever."

"You'll know I'll easily break that if it means you'll be happy, Slender."

"I cannot be happy when my own mother is dying because of something I am failing at." He raises his head, a darkening gaze settled upon his taunt jawline and stressed skin.

"She'd be happier dying than you marry off to someone you didn't love. Don't you remember the story of your father and her meeting? Only days before the wedding and they ran off together from the rehearsal dinner. It would go against everything she's ever taught us."

"I will suffer if it means that she'll live to see me truly find someone else."

"Like Hell you will." The tall woman roughly opened the door, and the two brother stood quickly, a quiver awakening from their childhood travelling down their spine. Her crutch clicked against the wood, and Mother beelined toward Slender despite her limp. "You tell that poor girl that the wedding is called off. And you will make up a damn good excuse for breaking her heart, too." She paused to, what sounded like, hacking up part of a lung.

"Mother, I can't-"

"Yes you will, Slender, damn you!" Mother had always exhibited tough-love, but never a shrieking angry like this. The curse had started to spread to her bones, her back, and more importantly her brain. Odd things sprung up that she's never done before. She burnt food, she left the house half-dressed, and kept asking where Sol had gone, a proxy that has long been gone from existence.

"You will do as I say, exactly how I say it, even if it's just this once." She turned, and Slender sadly realized she was only wearing one heel, which did not aid her already pre-existing limp.

"If I come back here tomorrow, and the girl isn't gone, I will do it myself, my own way." The threat lingered even after she left from the room, her one heel clicking down the stairs.

It didn't matter, she would forget in a few hours, anyway.

#trying to ease back into writing for mother #she was a comfort character for me before my mom died and then AAAA i couldn't write for her anymore #but i think keeping her alive on the blog would be nice eventually #slender #tw dementia #tw dying parent #why is there a tw for ed sheeran #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #mother #creepypasta imagines

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heartinajarofpickles · 7 months

Text

Dinner is not over

Part 5

Run to rise and leave me blind, i feel it coming all the time

Half of the cup was already gone, hands trembling so much they almost spilled the little liquid left on it, feet touching the dark pavement one step at a time anxiously looking forward to see how Muriel was handling the library, mind focused on the fact that aziraphale wasn't there anymore so that his absence didn't take him aback, she was halfway there, eyes fixated on a new door color, when something solid and cold on his hip pulled her out of his thoughts, and stopped him from looking at the door.

She realized that she was on the ground and the pain came immediately after, hips and head hurting, Oh! the head, it felt like it was going to explode, the person driving left not caring about the accident nor the being they have hurtled, or perhaps caring too much, but about the consequences that’ll bring.

Crowley was okay with this being his end, lately things on earth were dizzy and confusing, like they were many many years ago, after that everything just became worse, it was many years ago and in a far better place, with no strings attached, so he didn't dare to imagine how bad things could get here, the only things that grounded him to earth were gone, he come to this place to accompany humans, to tempt them, to make them make choices, for him to intervene and help them choose the way they wanted to live, it was only fair that one of those humans would take his life, and what better than with a car, one of their best inventions.

Humans would probably be gone thanks to aziraphale in a couple thousand years, if Crowley died he would go back to hell, there, demons would notice his existence, maybe just by punishing him, making him an example of what happens to traitors, it wouldn’t be the first time that happened and right now it was far better than what was happening, he wanted for someone to call out his name even if it was just to torture him, to laugh at him, ridicule him, THAT was better than nothing at all, than an unimpactful existence, maybe none of that would happen and he'll just get back to the crowded place that everyone keep insisting was his home, either option was better that seeing how the creature he loved so purely destroyed what they have been caring for together the last 6000 years based only on bad decisions and pressure exerted by a higher powers.

The demon was slowly saying goodbye to his earthly years relieving theirbest memories one by one in the few seconds he thought he had left, preparing to say goodbye to the body that had held him so many nights and anticipating what would be of him in the afterlife, when a familiar high-pitched voice invaded the space.

— “Mister Crowley, are you okay?” Although it shouldn't, it took him by surprise, in no time he restored his composure and responded to the curious eyes.

— “Yeah sure kid” the demon said while an almost unbearable pain on the hip ached her, he couldn’t stand up by himself, so Muriel helped him cross the road, until they arrived at the library.

It was different, barely the entrance remained the same, instead of the deep red color there was now an almost electric blue adorning the door, a sign could be read stating the hours it was opened 9-5 every day, but the inside, that was what took Crowley aback, what once was a cozy place packed with books and old comfy chairs, with warm walls and wood floors was now all organized by sections, by genre, yearly, or alphabetically, it didn't matter which one, if Muriel did it that meant it was a good system, a system that was meant to be accessible for those who came inside, and a system that aziraphale didn’t have as his books were ordered in quirky unique ways that made sense in his head and his head only, because he was supposed to be the only one in contact with them, only him and the people he trusted could inhabit that quiet little sophisticated nook on earth, however that domesticity was all over, as strangers now enter the room where Crowley poured his love time ago.

The new layout was intended to welcome people with clearer colors, bright white lights and colorful modern chairs, all of this inviting them to buy.

The hit, the caffeine and the new state of one of the few places where he truly felt himself made the world whirl once again.

All he wanted was for this to stop, he closed his eyes to escape from the tormenting reality, when a figure posed in front of him, and suddenly they didn’t feel so bad.

Muriel had miracled out Crowley's wounds, only the superficial ones as his power was limited, still his hip didn’t hurt anymore, and she felt pretty proud of Muriel for discovering new things.

— “Wow, already making miracles, huh?”

— “Oh! Well yes, I’ve learned a lot thanks to aziraphale!”. Pain.

— “Is that so?” The angel had visited Muriel but not him. Pain again.

— “Oh well just by reading, Aziraphale’s books really have a lot of him in them” They did. “Besides it's cute how he gives them little names, I feel as if he was talking to me”

— “Sounds just like him” said the demon in what was intended to sound depreciating, but coming out mourningly.

Thanks to the fact that Muriel keep distracting him from the destructive way his mind been working lately, and to the miracleperformed, Crowley could appreciate the view with detail, he got up and started analyzing the books realizing that a large number of the originals were already gone, pristine new books taking their place, making the place seem stocked, luminous white lights adorning the roof facilitating people that wanted to evaluate what they were about to buy, chairs in all different colors gave a good contrast to the rest of the store and serve as a thoughtful addition for however that wanted to start their treat at that exact moment.

— “Sold much Uriel?”

— “Oh you noticed! Yes, I did, it wasn't that hard really, a lot of people seemed to be very interested, and for some of them they gave me a lot of money, at first I didn’t understand the concept of money, I still don't fully grasped it, you just give it away and people give you back things right?”

— “Pretty much yes”

— “Yes I knew it!, apparently some of them were really rare as they gave me a lot of money from them”

— “You were not supposed to sell them, did you know” said Crowley in a dismal tone

— “Don’t be silly this is a bookshop, that’s what we do”

The demon gave a little laugh both for the way that Muriel’s speak so sure of themselves, and because of a reminder of better times popped up, when the angel would give infinite explanations as to why he couldn't sell his books.

— “True”

The last safe place on earth had crumbled, becoming a new version of what it was, a version not made for Crowley, not in a bad sense, time changes, it's a normal and organic thing that happens, but ever since that kiss he had remained the same, soul forever buried in a place that wasn't there anymore, trapped in the past unable to escape.

After analyzing all, the demon's mind only came with one possible solution, one unique thought, the plan that could make all of this stop, the thing that would get rid of all of his problems.

— “Muriel, could I ask you for something?”

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muzzleroars · 1 year

Note

Wanna share my take on the lore that was revealed in the Ultrakill ARG

Like,, at first, when I saw that Hell is A Living, Thinking Thing Actually, I was like "aaah scary evil mastermind, noo"

But then, after thinking some more (though some media that I've consumed recently might have influenced me) I came to a different conclusion: hell is baby. evil but baby

I mean, just think about it

God creates Hell

Hell gains sentience

And then what it sees? Eternal torment

And the human expeditions probably aren't better, cause humans probably only thought about what use Hell is for them; and also probably violence was more common after humans and machines came to Hell cause demons and husks attack them on sight in most cases and then they had to protect themselves and stuff

And children generally can be cruel unless they're taught what is wrong, bored children especially so, and in hell's case it's even worse

And all Hell has ever saw and could learn from was violence and other amoral stuff

So in the end we have Hell, a bored, cruel, likely powerfull toddler, basically

Machines at least had their programming (for better or for worse), which might have limited their violence to some extent (or in some hcs still does), and yet they still had a hand in killing off humanity. Hell either doesn't have any "programming", or if it does, it's probably smth among the lines of "torment sinners", as that's the purpose with which God created it. And obviously this doesn't make Hell any less likely to be violent and amoral

Anyway, I'm not good with words and this sounded better in my head, but that's it

YEA let's talk about hell theories!!! (i get pretty speculative, BUT this is such an interesting topic!!!)

your idea is a really interesting take on what might be going on with hell, and in a similar vein i very much enjoy that while hell may be orchestrating a lot of what's happening, it's quite difficult to say if it's truly at fault in this scenario. because like you said, hell is made for one purpose and hell knows nothing else beyond that purpose. it was made as a place of eternal torment and i'm kind of half wondering if hell is like. lucifer prime, should that exist for angels. that he was killed in his fall and transformed into hell upon his death, spawning into being hateful of what had been done to him but still under god's directive to be the source of eternal damnation. WHICH IS PROBABLY WRONG BUT i think no matter what, hell was conceived to carry out damnation and that was an entirely new concept upon its creation, nothing had ever been made before to be strictly evil and cruel. and it was left to fester, denied god's light and left on its own but still with a job to carry out. and not to relate EVERYTHING to inhnmaims, but it's very reminiscent of am in this regard - relegated underground, trained only on violence and torture, and then left to rot on its own with no other input. what else would it become but something that wants to devour all, that needs more and more grotesque entertainment in its wretched existence?

to me, the machines made by humans and the hell made by god parallel each other a lot - they are created in hubris, in a sense of complete control on the part of their makers, and yet look at what they are. the machines are powered by blood, possibly made so due to wartime needs; hell is a place filled by design with unfathomable horrors. and i think both of these decisions were far from rational choices, but instead the creators acting in fear and anger, on pure emotion. and they both created something they could not undo. the machines are blood hungry, they don't care about the new peace; hell exists only to satisfy a need for punishment, for revenge, for torture. and the terminals get bored. and hell gets bored. and now both creators have a massive, sentient network on their hands that is no longer taking their orders because they've been too far away from it for too long. i am REALLY starting to think the terminals absolutely had something to do with humanity's fall, locked up in hell and forgotten just as hell itself is. they are abandoned and uncared for, but still they think, still they live, still they want to do what they are designed to do. perhaps they were twisted by hell, perhaps they weren't at all, but these two beings are operating in sync at this point imo and no one is left at the wheel. no humans. no god. no creators, only beings like machines, angels, and hell itself that can only run on their programming and protocols. in that sense, ultrakill is a bleakly empty and directionless world, everything that's left something that was only ever meant to be...automated. the mechanisms run forever on, into destruction, into extremes, with what they were designed for disappearing in the rearview mirror. the prime souls are kind of the only thing left that has a true sense of autonomy, and they're being slaughtered by v1's directives as well.

GOT A LITTLE CARRIED AWAY...but i totally agree that hell isn't necessarily a mastermind, just another being that is, in a way, doing the only thing it knows to do. i do wonder if there's really any goal to it, or if it just wants the show to last as long as possible. does it know its resources are finite, does it want to survive or is it finding something to kill it when god couldn't? does none of that factor into it and hell truly is just bored, it doesn't care about the outcome nor does it care to speculate about it or even consider it. whatever the case i'm interested to see how it turns out, especially because this lore is answering literally all of the mechanics on how the game works in a satisfying way...which is just such neat worldbuilding!!

#genuinely i LOVE when mechanics are incorporated into the canon of a piece of media #and it seems like this game is interested in giving reasons for all of it which is just. so cool imo #esp since it's being handled well and nothing has been clumsy about the explanations #they all work with the universe and are organic to it #they add to it and flesh it out so like!!! it's very good to me aha #cake answers

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chaoticgeminate · 1 year

Text

A Future with You

Summary: Sometimes things happen that change everything, and the kind actions of a stranger help you at a low point in your life. Not only do you get to return that kindness but you also wind up happier than you've ever been.

Rating: M (Non/Semi-explicit smut content)

Pairing: Marcus Pike x gn!Reader (If you notice any descriptors please let me know kindly and I'll fix them)

Notes: This work is a part of the @pedrostories Secret Santa event and is a gift, I tried very hard not to imply any holiday the reader celebrates but included a holiday tradition from my giftee which is why there is a Christmas film on the title card. That being said:

Happy Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, Merry Yule, Saturnalia Salutations to my Secret Santa giftee @browneyes-issac! I really hope you enjoy my gift, Lotus, this was a lot of fun to write ❤

A Future with You (6.7k)

“I’m sorry.”

Echoing, repeating, inside your head like a specter that wouldn’t leave you alone; the two words held none of the emotions they should have, the tone was blank and empty and had been delivered that way. Even now you could still see his stupid face looking anything but sorry, those green eyes lacking any empathy for what he’d done to you, and it hurt worse as all the ugly little thoughts you’d kept at bay were buzzing like a swarm of pests surrounding you.

You aren’t good looking enough, why would he choose Kaleigh otherwise?

You aren’t smart enough, you would have gotten that promotion sooner if you were, right?

You spend too much time working rather than being a good partner, he wouldn’t have to find affection somewhere else if you tried harder would he?

Each thought cut deeper and deeper, the aching in your chest bleeding out and making you feel cold, your legs pulled close to your chest and your face buried in your knees to hide the tears spilling over your cheeks. Around you the airport was bustling and loud but you couldn’t hear it, the endless number of conversations and bubbly pop music were muted by the grief and the voices of your own inner demons screaming at you.

Someone touched you, the hand on your elbow gentle, but you hadn’t been ready for it; head snapping up to look, worried you’d missed your flight or something. Instead, there were gentle brown eyes, a soft smile fading into a look of concern, and the stranger pulled his hand back; his lips moved but you still couldn’t hear him over the roaring of your inner demons, now mocking you for bringing a stranger into your pity party.

He tried again and this time you paid attention, you forced yourself to focus on the here and now, you pushed those inner demons back knowing it would just make the intrusive thoughts worse later.

“Are you on the DCA flight? I can make sure you don’t miss it.”

“What?”

Good going, dummy, way to sound like a moron in front of this guy.

“If you- if you need to stay like that, I can make sure you don’t miss the boarding call. I don’t expect you to open up to a complete stranger, but I don’t want you to miss your flight because of the hurt.” Part of you, the pride that you still had left, bristled at how quickly he’s seen you and figured you out; wanting to deny the assist on principle that you were just fine without someone jumping in. That you didn’t need a fucking knight in shining armor or some shit, no matter how distraught you seemed to be.

He's just being kind.

This stranger was giving you more courtesy that your ex had in, well, probably a long time. He was giving you the chance to hurt without the worry that it would cause problems getting home, and you needed that more than you knew.

“Please?” Your voice was rough from the screaming fit just hours before, when Ryan had the audacity to ask you to give him half of your own savings -thank the fucking powers that be you had not combined finances yet- so he could buy an engagement ring for Kaleigh. His rushed proposal to you had been done with a cheap ring from a little crane game he’d won on your anniversary trip, it was cute and you’d been happy with it because it’d been a sweet proposal and just fit the two of you so well; now though it stung, thinking about the fact that he wanted to give Kaleigh the hallmark proposal and happy family.

A nod was all you needed to return to burying your face in your knees, to muffle your soft wheezy sobs in the plush fabric of your scarf -it was going to be cold in DC and you weren’t going to be the idiot unprepared for the weather- and just letting the emotions go. But this stranger didn’t just support you by promising the bare minimal help, he went and got a fresh bottle of water for you when you’d finished yours and even went and got you a small snack from one of the nearby vending machines when you’d told him you hadn’t eaten since at least two days before.

This man had put more care and attention into you in the span of two hours than Ryan had in two years.

Fuck you’re pathetic if a stranger is better to you than your ex was.

Marcus Pike, as he introduced himself eventually, was a genuinely good man and you had to admit you were kind of jealous of this Teresa person that was apparently flying out to DC in a week to follow him. He’d gotten a text from her that she was working on a case or something, that she’d call in an hour or two if she could, and that led to him telling you about her. But the jealousy you thought you’d feel that he was getting everything he wanted and you weren’t just… wasn’t there. If anyone deserved a happy marriage it was this good-hearted, sweet, man beside you who saw a stranger in pain and stepped up.

“So, uh, are you from DC or the surrounding area?” He was trying to make conversation no doubt, you hummed as you chewed on the bite of the meal you’d ended up buying now that your appetite was returning, and a part of you was at war with giving him such personal information when you’d only just met him today. But you didn’t have some of the same bad vibes that you usually got with creeps or pushy men; you had a feeling if you refused to answer he’d actually respect that.

“Surrounding area, though my promotion does come with a change of office to DC. I’m in Baltimore currently but I’ll be looking for a place in DC as soon as I get back since it’s an hour commute not counting the traffic. The week I got off was supposed to be for me to begin the process of finding residency closer to work, I had use-or-lose time that would’ve been lost as soon as I started at the new role so it just made sense to take it when I got the affirmative that I’d be promoted.” Marcus was nodding in understanding at your logic, you hadn’t expected to actually get approved for any houses or places but just being able to take your time touring the options had been the idea.

Marcus grabbed his phone and handed it to you after opening a browser window, the condo was a nice place and the cost was actually pretty decent for the size.

“I was initially looking here, since they’re one-bedroom places, but with Teresa coming along I decided to spring for a two-bedroom so we could have an office room.” You sent yourself the share link, already liking that it had designated parking and security cameras around the building, but what sold it was the fact that the interior wasn’t the modern aesthetic with sleek square edged and monochrome colors. The appliances were a lovely shade of royal blue, the furniture that came with the place was vintage and fun looking, and if that was Marcus’ taste it was just one more way he was nothing like any man you’d met.

“Thank you, I’ll check this place out.” You had a few more days left of time at least, since handling things with your ex had been done quickly once you knew what was actually going on, and since he was planning on staying here in Austin you’d even decided to take the L and mail his things back to him so he didn’t have to fly back and you could avoid him accusing you of purposefully withholding his belongings. That meant time to wander around DC and get an idea of where you might want to live, though this place was looking pretty alright.

For the first time in a while you didn’t even feel scared that a stranger would know where you potentially lived, the warning bells were absent and you didn’t know if that was because Marcus was just that good or because he was good at hiding it, and you decided to let yourself believe in him being a good person.

There were so many other things you had to stress about and this was something you didn’t want to add to the list.

As the boarding call started, after you and Marcus spent time talking about favorite books and films, he let you on ahead of him and waved from his seat near the front of the cabin as you moved toward the back. The curse of booking a late ticket, of course, and after setting your phone to airplane mode you decided to take the nap you knew you needed.

Marcus bid you farewell at the exit terminal in DCA while he was getting his phone turned back on, since you didn’t have to go through baggage claim there was no added wait, and you were off and in a cab toward the hotel you’d booked last minute in the city so that you could just stay and explore living spaces before heading back to your place in Baltimore.

The condo was finally furnished, it looked like your space, and all of the boxes of Ryan’s stuff had long since been shipped off and confirmed to arrive at Austin. Breaking the lease on your old place had been costly -his parents chose to cover the cost after the truth came out- but you were free, free of someone who saw you as a piggy bank and free to move on with your career and live the life you wanted to live. You wiped the sweat off your brow and decided to head down the road to the nearby diner, a bite to eat that you didn’t have to cook sounded great, and you had a few hours before your best friends would be here to help put your knickknacks and art up.

It had been months since you got back, months since you’d started at work in your new position, and even if finding the time to hunt for a place in DC was limited to weekends and unexpected breaks in your work weeks you’d managed to finally tour a bunch of apartments and condos in the area. In the end you’d settled on the place Marcus had shown you after getting the in-person tour.

Now as you faced the brisk fall weather your mood was much higher, you were living a fair distance from work that public transport and even just walking would be fine too, and now you were going to get some good classic food. Warm and soft lighting made you relax as you entered the eatery, it was a seat yourself joint and you were ready to take a seat at the bar when you spotted a familiar face in one of the booths, waving when he looked up from his phone screen; Marcus’ smile was blunted since your first meeting and you glanced at the bar a moment and walked over to greet him instead.

“Hey stranger, fancy seeing you here. Want company?” Not wanting to assume anything you couldn’t help but grin when his smile did shift to something warmer and more welcoming.

“Only if you want to.” You slid into the seat with a smile after he gave you the okay. “How have you been, since getting back to Baltimore?”

“Better, it’s still- there’s still plenty of hurt but I’m in a better place all around; especially now that I know the whole truth. I just finally finished unpacking and organizing my place here in DC, so I figured I’d celebrate. How about you? How’s the East Coast treating you?” Since he was alone and lacking a band on his left ring finger you avoided the topic of the woman he’d said was coming out here, he’d been so excited about his engagement and with how sweet he was you had expected his fiancée to be just as enthusiastic.

Marcus’ shoulders dropped a little and you didn’t even think before reaching out to take the hand he had on the table, offering a sympathy-filled smile, and his eyes dropped from your face to your connected hands before he let that smile fall away.

“East Coast as a whole is okay, but Teresa ended up breaking the engagement to be with the guy that she was in love with before me. I knew it wasn’t- I knew that as long as she was around Jane that she would choose him; we’d only been together a few months before I proposed, I didn’t want to lose my chance with her just by being transferred so I’d called in a few favors to get her a position here and hoped that being away from the guy that wasn’t returning her feelings would let her move on. With me.”

You knew he’d moved fast; he’d told you that, but you had seen shorter dating periods turn into long and happy marriages before. What upset you was that Marcus had put his heart, his hope, into someone that just wasn’t in a place to be that person for him and wasn’t willing to just tell him that.

“You saw what the two of you could be and wanted to try for that, Marcus, and that’s perfectly okay. You gave Teresa every chance to tell you ‘no’ and she didn’t take it for whatever reason, if she wasn’t able to commit to you entirely then she shouldn’t have accepted your proposal. If she wasn’t able to communicate with you, to try to move on from the other guy, then she should have said something. It takes two people to make a relationship work and it sounds to me like she wasn’t trying as hard as you were.”

When you looked up from your hands it was to a man with shiny eyes and tears threatening to fall, a man who had been hurt and needed someone who could at least understand the hurt, and you didn’t say anything when he used a napkin to dab his eyes gently. If anyone understood what he was feeling right now it was you, after all, given that the situations weren’t the same but there were some strong parallels. Him allowing himself to cry? To feel? You liked that about him, a lot.

“When Ryan proposed it was a rushed thing too, it was on our anniversary and he won a little plastic ring out of a crane game instead of the little charm bracelet he’d been trying for. He looked at it, looked at me, and then got down and proposed right there; almost made me think he meant to try for it for that reason and since our relationship had always been easy and never focused on the materialistic things, I loved it and it was sort of on brand. But he pulled away, after that, wasn’t involved in any of the planning unless I specifically asked for his opinion. I thought it was cold feet, or that he was just nervous because he didn’t know if his parents were able to make it to the wedding on the day we chose, but it turns out his childhood friend Kaleigh was newly single and he’d always loved her.”

Saying the story out loud made the anger lessen, now that you could see the signs clearer, even if the hurt was still there. How Ryan had always talked about Kaleigh’s clothes style, compared your hairstyles on special occasions to hers, and just being very attentive to her social media to the point that you knew more about Kaleigh than his own sister before you’d ended up opening a group chat with Hannah. A part of you also felt like you’d dodged a bullet, learning before you were married, because it meant that not only had it festered enough to do more hurt later but you had a lot more to lose in a divorce situation compared to Ryan.

His grip tightened, making you look up, and Marcus’ expression was one of understanding. Even without saying the words he knew that you were offering him support, that you knew his pain and would be the person he could open up to about it, and if it weren’t for your meals being delivered you were sure the two of you would have been able to just sit in comfortable silence.

“Ah, pancakes guy? Breakfast for dinner is something I haven’t done in a while.” You took a bite of your meal and Marcus shrugged, putting a good bit of syrup -the authentic maple syrup not the gloopy pancake syrup- onto the hubcap sized pancake along with a large dollop of butter. Your talk lightened to things in the area to do for fun, things in Baltimore to do for fun, hobbies you had currently and things you wanted to try and get into.

Marcus was genuinely a good person and creative as hell, watching him sketch you on a napkin in only a few minutes had left your face warming at the detail he managed to get into the little image. Only after you’d gone through a few refills, talked until you were sure your voice was going to be shot, and spent nearly an hour more than you planned there with him did the two of you decide to leave. Marcus paid for your meal -his insistence- and followed you back to yours where you brewed some coffee for him and let him lean in the doorway of your kitchen as the two of you talked about movies that you enjoyed.

By the time you both sat down on your couch, on opposite sides with you pulling your legs close, a small part of you was loath to let him leave. Marcus had proven before that he was attentive and kind with a big heart and knowing he was going to therapy -he’d glossed over it but you didn’t mind since he trusted you enough to even mention it in the first place- all it proved was that he wanted to heal and be better. You liked him, and even though your heart hurt, you were terrified of the idea of losing him because you wanted to take more time for yourself, but you didn’t want to push him into anything by rushing since he was going through the same heartbreak you were.

“So, uh, you never said what you did for work. What brought you from Texas to DC? Politician?” Dropping the thoughts before they could ruin your night, choosing to needle him just a little, you watched the way Marcus’ nose wrinkled instantly. You knew he wasn’t but you were sure he’d be a good one, the kind of guy to push for what was right without forcing his lifestyle on others, and the idea of him putting any of those crusty old raisins in office in their place was a fun one.

“Nah, I’m not old enough or conservative enough to be a Texan politician. FBI actually, art crimes. I’m on the team of people that investigate when museums get robbed of art work or statues, sometimes we end up tracking things internationally depending on the thief. We also have to inspect and identify if things that pop up are authentic or if they’re fakes.” His explanation was delivered in an even voice and he showed you his badge while he was at it, your throat tightened and you felt the gooseflesh on your arms as the image of him apprehending a thief made your heart beat a little faster.

As if he couldn’t be more attractive, he had to be an FBI agent too?!

“That’s really incredible, I can’t imagine it was easy either. Did you have to get a degree in classic art before going to whatever FBI training is?”

Marcus laughed softly.

“I went to Quantico first, actually, my father was always set that as his firstborn son I’d be police or military or some role with authority. He could handle the FBI but it wasn’t until I was out of Quantico serving as a low-level agent that I pursued my Art Degree and transferred to Art Crimes as my hands-on credit hours. He still hasn’t forgiven me.”

“His loss, that is an amazing career to pursue Marcus.” You didn’t miss the way his smile brightened or how he hung off every word as you told him about your own career, how you’d not only gotten your promotion but quickly earned a pay raise on top of the raise that came with the new position, and you honestly couldn’t be happier now that you’d escaped “Hallmark Rom-Com” territory with your love life. After being able to focus solely on your career you’d managed to get into a much better place for yourself financially, which if you were being honest, helped bring you to a better place emotionally too.

Marcus stayed until he absolutely couldn’t and even then you made plans to meet up again on the weekend since he knew of a place that did drive-in movies, old black and whites and you hated that when you closed the door your heart was skipping and you couldn’t stop the way you did a corny little victory dance. It wasn’t a date, he hadn’t explicitly said it, but it was a start.

It was a date, the first of many, and Marcus was a breath of fresh air in the best way. He was kind, supportive, understanding, and an attentive lover. The whole ass package and somehow fate had put him in your path, not that you were complaining in any way, and this year was your first holiday together. You had plenty of fall-time dates last year trading apple cider and pumpkin kisses, snuggling up in the library together to just read or going to snuggle in his car at the drive-in theater, and there had been countless times you’d stumbled into the door of one of your houses where clothing ended up on the floor and sometimes you didn’t even make it to a bed.

You didn’t regret it, him, at all; a number of people tried to slow you down, since it hadn’t been so long after your break-up with Ryan before you and Marcus began dating, but their tunes changed when they actually met him and saw you two with one another. The main reason you hadn’t spent the holiday together as a couple yet was that Marcus had plans already with his family out of the country last year and you weren’t quite willing to intrude on that, even though you were sure about him, you didn’t want to crash a family vacation.

This year was yours, he’d promised, but that wasn’t looking like it would happen. Part of you couldn’t help but sigh as you looked at the calendar again, Marcus had to go to Austin for an undercover op and couldn’t even call you, he only had an approximation for when he’d be able to either call or come home. Since he was a Christmas guy you had used your key to his place and decorated his condo for the holiday for him, even getting out his fake tree and doing the entire set up, sneaking a few things of your own traditions around the main room before deciding it was done.

But all the tinsel and candles -LED since you weren’t exactly staying here to watch them- and décor couldn’t erase how it was lacking one Marcus Pike to fill the space with his sunny smile and warm affection. Even if you couldn’t celebrate the whole season with him, at the very least Christmas was enough for you if he could make it home, and as the days were crossed off your calendar it was looking less and less likely. Your own condo was significantly sparse on décor, trying to lighten your mood by making Marcus’ place look like a Christmas dream hadn’t really worked out the way you planned and his continued absence stole your spirit.

A chime from your phone made you huff softly and answer, if only to disrupt the cheerful ringtone, you knew it wasn’t Marcus since he had a custom ringtone set.

“Hey sharpshooter.”

Ryan’s parents had given you the title when you’d beat his entire family at the little shooting game at their town faire on your first visit, it was bittersweet hearing it again.

“Hi Drew, happy holidays.”

“Happy holidays, kid, just wanted to let you know that Nadine and I are proud as hell of you and that we miss you. I know it’s probably weird, your ex-fiancé’s parents calling to wish you happy holidays but you were family to us.”

“I don’t blame you or Nadine for what happened, but thank you for calling. Tell her I said hello and happy holidays, Drew.”

“Will do, sharpshooter, we wanted to pack up and send you some honey from the bee farm if you’re interested as a gift.”

“That would be a wonderful present, thank you.”

Even if you didn’t use it you could always re-gift it and pass business along.

“Good, you still have that drop box?”

“Yep! That’s perfect, Drew.”

“Wasn’t going to ask for your new address, figured in the New Year you’d want to move on for good.”

“I appreciate that, more than you know, but I’m glad I got to say a proper goodbye this time.”

“Me too, kid. Don’t settle for anyone that doesn’t respect you, you deserve the world.”

“I haven’t, Drew.”

“Even better.”

You knew when a conversation with Drew was over, when the sentences turned to one or two words, and despite this being one of the shortest conversations you had with the man you appreciated it all the same because now you could move on knowing that everyone from that point in your life was okay. You honestly felt lighter and almost jumped when you heard your door opening, knowing you’d locked it behind you, and your eyes widened when Marcus rounded the corner of the entry with a large grin on his face.

“Marcus!”

Your wail of his name drowned out the rapid tattoo of your footsteps as you hurried to hug him, to prove that he was really here, and he caught you in a tight hold and just held you close. His cologne was different, the facial hair was different, and the lingering scent of dry Texas air was different, and yet the feel of his arms around you and the warmth he seemed to just give off constantly was the same.

“I missed you so much, I’m so sorry I couldn’t call or contact you-“

“Don’t apologize, I know it was for your job, you were safer that way and it was required. You’re home, that’s what matters.”

“God, I love you, I love you so much, I booked the first flight home I could and spent extra hours in the office just to make sure I could come back and stay here.”

Marcus didn’t argue at all when you dragged him through your apartment, mouth practically fused to yours as you worked to get him out of his clothes and into the shower, your own clothes joining his on the floor as you joined him under the stream of hot water. He proved how much he missed you, whispering praise and love into your wet skin, the slick glide of your bodies and heavy breathing laced with promises and traded affections between each throaty cry of his name were things you would remember for the rest of your life. He was insatiable for you, just as you were for him, and the shower round turned to soaking your sheets after stumbling out of the shower and away from your poor attempt at getting him clean.

He was all lips and tongue and hands, no inch of you was left untouched or unloved, and Marcus went as far as holding the back of your neck as he filled you just so he could make sure he could watch your face as he made you fall apart over and over again. His kisses were deep and intense, encompassing you entirely even as his hips rocked so slow and deep against yours, it was toe-curling and spine arching and yet you couldn’t get enough.

When you both were spent, wanting to just make out and talk and cuddle, Marcus migrated you to the couch after getting you both into comfier clothes where he nestled into the corner of your L shaped sofa and let you lay on him with his legs on either side of you, turning on some low background noise in the form of classic Christmas movies, and you couldn’t begin to care as Rudolph and Hermey met Yukon Cornelius since Marcus was here with you at last.

“I need to go decorate my condo; did you want to come help? You could just stay at mine until the holidays are over?”

A slow smile spread across your face when you realized that he hadn’t been home yet, he’d come to see you first, and you nodded before getting up to pack a bag to bring with you. Marcus helped of course, you even let him choose some of the casual stuff to pack, and other than stopping for a simple take-out dinner the ride was filled with him telling you about the sting operation. He’d posed as an art teacher to expose someone on the staff from not only stealing student’s work but for having some of the better talents recreate pieces that had gone missing and passing them off as legitimate.

You couldn’t be happier that he had pretty thick curtains so you couldn’t see the glow of the battery powered candles through them, asking him about his method of befriending the perpetrator to distract him as you let him handle the luggage so you could open the door, and Marcus’ face went slack when he stepped into the condo to see it fully decorated already.

“I- you- you decorated my condo?”

“Wanted you to come home to one less thing to do, it was a good way to help fight how much I missed you for a little while.”

Marcus’ slack expression warmed before he was tugging you onto the plush carpet, the net of Christmas lights you’d attached to his ceiling using command hooks twinkled like stars as Marcus kissed you deeply under them, and you couldn’t resist flipping him onto his back so he was looking up at the lights while you tugged off your hastily donned clothes again. Your bodies were dewy with sweat and the lights were reflecting off his skin and twinkling in his eyes, his lips dropped open as you held him in place so that you could give him nothing but pleasure, and Marcus’ hands gripped your hips to help move you as he watched you.

Even with his feet planted he let you lead, let you control the pace, and by the time you were shuddering and tensed up as you crested that high Marcus was seeking his own completion and guiding you with his hands until he was spent and shaking under you. He pulled you down and just laid with you under the Christmas lights that you’d put up, the warm condo -thank you automatic thermostats- was a little chilly but not enough to make you feel the need to get up just yet.

“I plan to do a lot more to you under these lights.” Marcus’ eyes were dark with mischief and desire as he made that promise and you were more than eager to let him see it through.

Waking up with Marcus’ warm body pressed close to yours kept you drowsy and comfortable, eyes heavy still even as you glanced at the clock, and while you didn’t have to get up early today there was definitely a motive involved doing so. For the past week or so Marcus had been sneaking out of bed before you to make you breakfast.

‘I like taking care of you, besides you’ll agree to move in sooner if the promise of breakfast and as many orgasms you want is on the table right?’

He was a caretaker, a giver, you knew that about him but so were you and he was starting to make you feel like you weren’t giving him enough. It was a conversation to have, sure, but that would come later. He barely stirred when you slipped out of bed, didn’t make a peep when you tugged on one of his shirts and a pair of underwear, and his kitchen was warm and quiet as you raided the fridge to start cooking right away.

He hadn’t seen you smuggle his gifts home, since you both had still worked up until the holiday, and the wrapped presents were carefully tucked under the tree as the coffee pot percolated and the pan you needed warmed up. Hiding them from him had been embarrassingly easy, for a man that was an FBI agent he seemed to have forgotten that his coffee table had hidden storage because you’d even set a little bit of a trap so you would know if he got into his gifts.

Breakfast was nearly complete when you heard the sleepy call of your name from the bedroom.

“I’m in the kitchen, Marcus.”

You’d thrown on an elf hat for some Christmas humor, hearing your boyfriend hum appreciatively as he walked into the kitchen, and he grabbed your hips as he came up behind you.

“Did Santa leave me one of his helpers for Christmas?”

A small chuckle escaped you as you nodded, watching him pour himself a mug of coffee, and his eyes drifted to the tree over the breakfast bar countertop. You felt the weight of his stare at the boxes in plain sight and resisted the urge to laugh, just barely, and while he didn’t say anything he did pinch your butt and set the table for breakfast.

Only after you sat down did you notice that he had added boxes to the stack and you rolled your eyes at the smug look on his face.

“What time are you going to call your parents?”

“Well, they’re home in Austin since I’m here and Nina is with her girlfriend’s family in Maine. So I figured around three since we’re an hour ahead. Gives them time to get up and have lunch, just relax a bit, you know?”

“Alright, gives me plenty of time to clean up. And get pants on.”

The pair of you laughed, eating while conversing about any last-minute plans that either of you might want to do, and you only asked to watch White Christmas since that was a tradition in your family. Where it started you didn’t know but that had become the Christmas tradition, regardless of any other celebrations it was the only “Christmas-y” thing and this year Marcus was going to be there for the movie stream to meet your family too.

After dishes were cleaned up Marcus joined you in the living room and handed you one of your gifts, taking one of his to rest in front of him. You almost laughed because he picked the biggest of the boxes for each of you. The Razor Crest model in your hands was amazing, you would have to assemble it but that was a good rainy-day project, and Marcus looked thrilled when he began going through the canvas prints you had purchased for him to put up. Some of them were multi-panel pieces while others were single canvas pieces, but all of them were from the students he’d taught for his undercover op.

Your next gift was a new, beefy, set of over-the-ear headphones. These had noise cancellation or you could use the ambient mode to still hear things around you, you had only briefly mentioned these to him so for him to remember? You didn’t bother to mute your delighted cheer. Marcus grinned and then fell silent at the scrapbook you’d put in a pretty gift box; you’d only made and set removable labels for the pages with activities you wanted to do together. Things like going to certain museums or traveling to other cities, all optional but just things you thought were fun and cute.

There was even a page dedicated to the city of Casablanca, it made Marcus wipe the pooling tears out of his eyes.

“You- you want to do all this? With me?”

The unspoken words broke your heart.

You see a future with me?

“Absolutely, I do, Marcus -as long as we do it together, we could change up every little thing on those pages. That’s just ideas and possibilities, we can always pick others.”

His last gift was the smallest of the boxes, and the most expensive, so when he opened it to a Cartier box you watched his eyes go wide before he was so lightly touching the face of the watch you’d chosen for him. It was vintage with a round face and black leather band, the exact one he’d been looking at when you’d gone on a date to a silent auction, and you’d been hiding it for months even before he left for the undercover op. Marcus made a little sound of disbelief and you couldn’t help but grin at him, earning a kiss so good your toes curled and you were ready to ignore the last gift of the night.

But Marcus sat you back down and handed you the box, looking so sure of himself, and when you opened it carefully you frowned at the small cardboard box that was apparently empty. Looking up and freezing at the sight of your boyfriend on one knee, your chest tightened up and the mix of joy and the small bubbling doubts after last time made your eyes water.

“Before you say anything, even if the answer is a ‘not right now’ that’s perfectly fine and it won’t hurt my feelings. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, whether we’re married or not, I just want you to have something to show you that I’m serious about you. You walked into my life needing help and then returned that same genuine kindness months later, you have never treated me like I’m too much and you’ve been so patient with me. I know I spent a lot of our relationship gone, which is why you do not have to say yes to this, but I want to marry you and I hope that someday you might want the same.”

“Marcus I can’t lie and say I’m not anxious about this, I am, but you know the reason why and have been patient with me through my healing process. I love you too, and I do want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want to be by your side and explore the world with you one day at a time. I know we can be amazing together, even with you gone you’ve never given me a reason to doubt you, and I would prefer a longer engagement but I’d be willing to sign the papers tomorrow since it’s you..” He slipped the band on your finger and kissed you, promising you as much time as you needed, and you said a silent prayer to whatever higher power was listening to thank them for allowing this man to cross your path when you needed him the most.

After wrapping paper clean up, fawning over gifts, and very pleasurable thank you’s were exchanged he tucked you against his side on the couch and flipped on Netflix so you could continue catching him up on the shows he’d missed while he was working and glancing at your new ring with hope and love warming your heart.

All Fics Taglist: @haylzcyon @wordsnwhiskey @pagannightwitch @radiowallet @tauralmie @amneris21 @trickstersp8 @practicalghost @rominaszh @alwaysdjarin @alexxavicry @all-the-way-down-here

Just Pedro Taglist: @maievdenoir @beecastle @littlemisspascal @writeforfandoms @aynsleywalker @lovesbiggerthanpride @mswarriorbabe80 @emiemiemiii

Alt Taglist: @imtryingmybeskar @fan-of-encouragement @grogusmum @sizzlingcloudmentality @deadhumourist @prostitute-robot-from-the-future

#marcus pike x gn!reader #marcus pike x reader #pedrostoriesgift22 #pedrostories #mentalist fanfic #marcus pike #chaoticwrites

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sincerelylea · 1 year

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"Hell's Comin With Me" by Poor Mans Poison + one of the boys - author's pick :3

hola. i love this. straight up had a blast with this prompt.

this is very canon-compliant i'd say. i follow the episodes to a T nearly, sorry if you don't like that. i just had this idea and i couldn't shake it.

tw: heavy angst, graphic blood mentions, codependancy kinda, some spicy themes for a moment but it's brief.

this will include post hell dean and demon dean. also 4.7 k word count.

truly enjoy it.

dean winchester. i am the devil you forgot.

he came back without so much as a chip off his shoulder. hungry, thirsty, prepared for the reality of facing his family to see what they’d become since his time apart. looking into his face again felt like holy oil was poured down your back and set alight; a part of you knew you’d see him again, by some grace of god or what have you. yet when he knocked on that motel room door and he stood before sam, thunder went off inside you. the impossible was impossible for the winchesters. you knew this well but to see it face you after months of grieving and nonstop work to rid your mind of your pain, it seemed unreal.

he was different from the start,but he never addressed it. brushed it off, locked it in a box and buried it beneath the earth so deep you thought you’d never live to see the day where he spoke about it. sam was itching to get it out of him; as were you just to hear what he went through down there so as to help him. you loved him. you’d pick up his broken pieces shard by shard and mend them back together by the glue of your hands, didn’t matter if you had your own shattered pieces on the floor. dean would never let you do it. he was too stubborn to talk, to let the weight off and let someone carry the other half.

no, instead he smiled and joked over the rims of his beers, ate cheeseburgers like his life depended on it, and shrugged off the memory when asked by sam.

“i don’t remember it.” he’d say. his eyes would shine forest green, look between sam’s as if he was searching in his brother’s eyes if that reply was enough to put it to rest. because that’s what he needed so badly. was to forget. to put it away.

because if he talked about it - then it was all true.

sam closes the door to the chamber with his good hand, leaving in there dean, who sits tied to a chair in a red button down and a thirst for killing. he had an image in his brain then, what color yours and sam’s blood would be on the wall when he’d inevitably paint it later. when the silence of the chamber swallows him up to leave him on that chair tied and bound, he clenches his jaw in thought.

for now he’d let sam and you mull it over. that this is how it was now. he knew you two would never let up, but the idea of you squirming in grief of loosing him again makes him grin. if only to see you both suffer, to see you be the prey, it’d be worth it.

he’s got so much evil in him it’s seeping from his pores - it almost washes over him, warm, powerful.

you hear sam’s footsteps before you see him. he’s got a sam kind of look on his face, the one with the soft melted brow - distraught and concerned and aching just to fix the situation already. he sees you, sitting on dean’s bed with the covers half-hazardly spread. a lazy attempt at making it on dean’s part. and in your hands rest photos.

his brow quirks, he takes a few steps to sit beside you.

you don’t look at him, didn’t have any intentions of speaking until the words just came out anyway.

“it’s us.” you say with a sad smile just in the corner of your mouth. you offer the photos and sam takes them gingerly, looking over them in a soft glazed gaze. he shuffles through them gently, ones of dean and mary, of dean and sam, and ones of him and you. smiley, laughing, whiskey at the table as you sit on his lap and make an obnoxiously big smile just to get on his nerves a bit.

your head softly leans against his wide shoulders, eyes closed - glossy though hiding it for a moment as he still looks over the photos. you tuck your hands folded between your legs, finding solace in touch. “we have to bring him back, sam.”

“we will. we’ll bring him back. i’ll make sure of it.”

then you hear a door slam open.

you got your own motel room tonight to share with him. and you pushed for it so you could have some privacy with him to finally get him to crack. maybe that was harsh; you’re beating yourself up on the walk to your room instead.

you longed to have that kind of intimacy with him again. the kind where he wasn’t afraid to get emotional when talking about his fucked up childhood or the kind where he wasn’t afraid to spill anything or everything. you just wanted to hear him speak - it was tearing you up inside to think you couldn’t help him or that you weren’t offering the grounds in which he felt comfortable enough to open up.

because you knew he was hiding something. and you had a feeling of what it was about. you saw it in how his eyes would glaze over sometimes, he’d get lost in thought on the road and sam would snap him out of it.

you lean in to kiss him after you shower. gently, only with the intention of sharing your love in a kind of way that couldn’t be spoken. he meets you back tenderly, resting his forehead against your own when you part. your hand slides up his chest, resting to cup the side of his neck. his own runs up your leg, resting warmly on your waist as you kiss his mouth open - lost and drunk on the feeling and taste of the man you’d grieved for and loved so damn bad.

when you lift onto your knees he pauses and parts - “wait, wait, wait-” his palm rests on your chest above your heart, the other cradling your jaw. you stop, your touch on him returns lighter, you sit back on your legs and part to look at him with concerned searching eyes over his face.

“what’s wrong- i’m sorry-” your head shakes and he does the same. it’s hard for him to look at you, because if he does he’s afraid of crying and he hates doing that in front of you.

“no it’s-it’s not… it’s not you.” he rests defeated, looking into your face now. his hands fall to your shoulders and squeeze them before his thumbs soothe over your skin. you wish he wouldn’t try to comfort you right now.

your hands hold his face gingerly, swiping over his scruff and under his watery eyes. the corners of his mouth tighten. “i-i can’t…i’m sorry.”

“don’t-” you shake your head. your eyes are melty like butter, brow too. dean looks into that softness in your face and the way you look at him and it makes him sick with the memories of hellfire. “don’t ever apologize to me for that, okay?”

you force a smile to comfort him, your eyes match his own in watery-ness and you nod as if you don’t feel like crumbling in front of the broken man.

“hey,” he’s going in to try and comfort your tears as if he isn’t in the same boat as you right now and you shake your head.

“no you can’t… you can’t right now. don’t comfort me, it’s you who needs it.” you remove your hands from his face and wipe at your own. he doesn’t listen, moving your hands aside to brush the few hot tears rolling down your cheeks.

“why’re you cryin, sweetheart?”

“because this happened to you. and i want to fix it.”

“where are you, lovebug?” he calls out in a sing-song voice. that sound bounces off the concrete walls heavy, rings out like an organ in a church. meanwhile, sam’s flat along the wall of a neighboring hallways to the voice, you beside him, with his hand on your arm as you mimicked his movement. you round the doorway at the end of the hallway to be met with a flight of stairs as a door slams too close for comfort.

not many words were shared with sam in that moment if any. his eyes widen so big, jaw slack as he breathed in hushed breaths; ears steering clear for any sounds that might alert where dean was in that very moment.

he escaped. was the first alarm bell sounding off in your head as you sat on dean’s bed with sam. of course he’d escaped. he’d become america’s most wanted right now in a few hours if he so pleased.

doors open, you keep flat feel as you roll through your steps to minimize sound. if you’re breathing you don’t notice, for it’s fallen silent.

every one of his footsteps sends an ice bath of chills over the top of your head; and your heart fell so fast and hard you were positive it was in your ass.

you loved dean for so many years, knew him like the back of your hand, and when you kept close to sam taking those weary steps to keep out of dean’s sight you realized just how far this being was from him. he was nothing like him. this was a creature - the kind that sliver through the night, that raise goosebumps on your skin and keep your eyes open under your covers. the kind that leave you a shrivel of fear in the wake of what you used to be.

he truly was evil incarnate. existing to ride and thrive off of your pain - your fear.

you’d hate to admit it was working. but he knew that already. you knew he did.

not to mention the sound of his voice. it was using dean’s body but it wasn’t him. wasn’t his. he twisted and mangled it in his own way and when it left his lips it was dripping in this venom that soaked to the floor and burned in the walls like acid. he was rancid. a menace.

forget every other demon you’ve faced. what they’d ever done to you or seen them done to others. this was sinful. sin in it’s purest form.

and that’s why you had to get him back.

sam moves from behind a ledge in the main room of the bunker, shooting a look at you to follow him without having to speak and make that noise. he gingerly opens the drawer at the work bench, wraps his hand around the set of keys sitting stop other tools, making every movement silently so as not to draw attention to the beast lurking in your halls.

you watch him and pray he doesn’t make noise with every stretch of his fingers and every step he takes to follow another hallway down into the depths; with you just at his tail.

“come on y’all.” it’s gruff when it leaves his throat, you’re far enough away to keep moving. “don’t you wanna kick back? spend a little quality time?”

keep moving. just behind sam. your years of hunting and being raised like a machine couldn’t fail you like this. couldn’t fail sam like this. couldn’t fail dean like this.

“i know you miss that quality time, don’t you sugar?”

you close your eyes tight, but keep walking. you know sam has a destination in mind and you’re meeting his pace with a hand hovering over your holster. in truth you didn’t know what the reality of what he was capable of. every hair on your body stands on edge, even your knees feel weak and head still spinning.

he was quiet that night. it was him who asked the motel concierge for two separate rooms with a gruff in his voice and sadness in his eyes. sam looked at you with eyes that spoke a million words, you nod to him when you know dean isn’t paying attention. you’d take care of him. you always would. it was your job to see this through, to help him heal when he couldn’t do it himself. you follow him to the motel room door just next to sam’s and you squeeze sam’s arm just before you part, reassuring him that his brother was in safe hands. not that sam had any doubt anyway.

he pushes the door open with a pained expression, almost like it was too much for him to handle. you follow shortly behind, a hand between his shoulder blades and a soft, curt mention of comfort before you disappear into the room for the night.

when he slinks his duffel bag off his shoulder and onto the bed he has that same pained expression. he was always good at fixing his gaze, hardening it before he looked at you so he wouldn’t crack as easy under your melting pressure.

“i’m gonna…” his hand meets his forehead, rubs there for a minute. “i’m gonna shower.”

you nod, and hold back for a moment as he makes his way inside. when the spray starts up, you grab your clothes at a slower pace so he has some time to adjust before you follow him in there. you hold your bottles in hand, blessing the target you found a few days ago for your favorite soaps. who knew such little joys could impact your night routine.

when you step inside the bathroom he doesn’t say anything; not even when you step into the shower and put down your soaps on the bathtub ledge. he’s facing the water, away from you. as soon as you stepped in he lets off his hands from the wall in front of him and looks down now, water running over his hair and down his broad back.

you wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your chest against his back and your cheek there too. for a moment you close your eyes, and only the sound of the water fills your head. he doesn’t tense, doesn’t move much in that minute that you sit there, only rests his hands on your own.

he breathes. you feel that rise and fall. for this minute you’re the only two people in the world and you wished only that it’d last longer. this peace. this kind of serenity.

“it’s okay.” you remind, holding him tight still. you can’t see his expression, but you know which one it must be.

when he turns in your arms he smooths the wetness in your hair with both of his hands before holding you to him by your waist.

“i know.” he reminds. cheek on the top of your head.

when you look up to him in his arms, your hair has fallen over your face to cover your eyes thanks to the spray from the shower. and not to ruin the tender moment, but you can’t help but chuckle at the idea of how silly you must look in the moment.

he follows you in a short huff of a laugh, reaching for the shampoo behind you. “i take it it’s wash day?”

the electrical room. the keys in sam’s hands are thick and jingly. you wince at every sound, taking a peak at the ledge just behind you to make sure the coast was clear. you’re still hearing faint faint footsteps. he’s still stalking, still hunting, still searching. you’re not completely unaware of sam’s plan, just wishing it’d come faster.

the door opens, you rush inside and close it behind you as sam b-lines for the lever across the room.

you imagine how he’s walking. he always had a curt arrogance about him, confidence and cockiness. you wondered if he was armed; stupid thought of course he was. he’d made it to the kitchen if you weren’t mistaken.

just as sam opens the door to the electrical switches, a sharp boom is heard from across the compound. a door perhaps. your head whips to the direction of the sound, and for a moment you can have some kind of communication with sam. he looks to you, standing before the emergency switch, and you nod.

when his hand pushes it downward - the entire compound is doused in a rich red lighting. it paints the walls in a shade as crimson as blood. seeing might be a bit harder. not to mention everything just got a little more terrifying.

the alarm is ringing but you still hear that gruff voice call out.

“smart, guys.”there’s too much enjoyment in his tone. you can hear his smile. “locking the place down… doors won’t open… i get it.”

sam’s looking around now at the sound. a bit closer than it once seemed. that icy chill starts at the crown of your head and freezes you cold to the tips of your toes.

“but here’s the thing,” you both can tell his voice is moving, down a hallway, closer. “i don’t wanna leave.”

“not til i find you both.”

the panic has set in harder than intended, sam still takes the lead and you graciously follow as he opens the door - now fearful enough to not care about the noise. you both take that chance. if you’re loud it doesn’t matter. as long as you can run fast enough. hide quiet enough.

“dollface.” he commands. sam must have a destination in mind, he’s b-lining right for something. “sammy.”

“you’re just making this worse for yourself, guys!” he must be in the main room. you’re shoulder to shoulder with sam, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing next to you. sweat is beginning to form at your hairline - though with every passing word leaving dean’s lips it turns cold. your mouth is dry, hands clammy, this level of fear was one you hadn’t felt in a while. it was primal. survival was your only instinct now.

“oh, by the way you can uh… blame yourself for me getting loose.” sam’s head hits the wall behind him. he closes his eyes in frustration and tightens his hold on the blade in his palm.

“all that blood you pumped into me to make me human - well” he’s cut off with his own laughter. “the less demon i was the less the cuffs worked.”

his voice is still moving, now seeming closer than ever. you assume sam has a plan, but you still look to him with wide eyes. he meets your gaze and nods.

“and that devil’s trap…well, i just walked right across it. it smarted! but still…”

“it wasn’t four months y’know…”

“what?”

“it was four months up here but down there… i don’t know time’s different… it was more like fourty years.”

you’re sat on the cooler just in front of the boys. sam leaning against the hood of the impala and dean on the passenger side door. it was cool out that day. a little humid, but the beer on ice cooled your nerves enough.

dean had shared more about hell with you, details like this were sparse, you figured this was him finally opening up. but damn this was hard. to see him have to speak about it, hear it in his voice as he tried to cover it up. in front of you was the man, but it crumbled down to the boy behind him. he was raised as a machine, fought like one. defended his family like one. but when he peeled off the jacket at night, when the silence was the gateway eating as his brain to think of the chains in his muscle, he fell apart.

sam didn’t push him, he didn’t know what it was like. he saw how it ate at him though, and it killed him inside. chipped away little pieces at him sometimes.

your lips pause at the top of your bottle, mouth twists, and you put your beer back down and listen.

“they uh… they sliced. and carved. and tore me in ways that you- until there was nothing left.” you hear the tears in his voice before they show. feel the sickness in your stomach for failing him, sam feels it too.

“and then suddenly, i would be whole again. like magic.” he takes another sip so as to not ruin his taste.

there’s an ache at the back of your throat. the one you get when you see how hell left him in shambles. everyday you feel like beating yourself up for it - though sam was there to ease the guilty hangovers and listen to your proclamations of saving the man you loved so dearly. tears blur out your vision before you know what to do with them.

“just so they could start in all over.” it was getting harder for him to talk about it, but you didn’t stop him. you understood he needed this.

“and alastair, at the end of every day. every one. he would come over, and he would make me an offer.” sam looks to him, though dean is facing away.

“to take me off the rack.. if i put souls on. if i started the torture.” there’s disgust on his tongue, he tastes it for himself in memory.

“and everyday i’d tell him to stick it where the sun shines. for thirty years i told him.”

“but then i couldn’t do it anymore.” his voice wavers, shakes. his eyes look so green when they reddened with tears. you wipe your own face and bite at your cheeks.

“i couldn’t..” he swallows and the corners of his mouth tighten.

“and i got off that rack. god help me, i got off it. and i started ripping them apart.”

there it was. the boy.

“i lost count at how many souls.”

“the things i did to them…”

those hot tears roll off his cheeks and you look to sam who’s got water in his own. “dean…” both you and sam say at the same time.

“you held up for thirty years that’s longer than anyone would’ve.”

his face breaks and his lip quivers. he runs a hand over his face and it pulls away wet with tears.

“how i feel?”

“inside me.”

“i wish i couldn’t feel anything.” that’s when his eyes fall on you. for the first time since he’s started talking. and he sees the way your brow is pressed with worry and that crying overtakes your pretty face and he shakes his head, not at anything in particular, just wishing it was enough to stop the pain.

“i wish i couldn’t feel a damn thing.”

sam moves quick, grabs your forearm and leads you to a dark corner of the neighboring hallway, just out of sight, and just close enough to the door for his makeshift plan.

you were silent before, but when you hear those footsteps begin to echo louder - when the echoing disappears and you hear them because they’re damn near next to you - is when you press a hand over your mouth and watch as dean pushes the door to the electrical room open with a wary hand.

sam’s chest is rising and falling, you can hear his breathing and hope that dean doesn’t. dean stalks inside, sam looks at you for a moment and you meet his gaze. in a moments time the alarm is switched off, and that’s when sam makes a break to the door - slamming it closed and locking it tight. he tosses you the keys in the next moment and you reach for your blade.

“that’s y’alls big move?” he sounds off behind the door.

“listen to me, dean!.” you strengthen your stance if only for personal comfort - eyes remaining glued to the door.

it was another kind of fear that dean put in you like this. using the body of the man you loved. even looking at him was hard.

“we were getting close, okay!” sam’s breathing is heavy and he’s close to the door. you clench your jaw and speak since the beginning of his escape.

“i know you’re still in there somewhere. just let us finish the treatments.”

the door booms with the sound of cracking wood and force. you and sam push back, watching as the second blow is delivered and shards of wood are flying from it’s hinges.

“you act like i want to be cured.” a third hit, more wood flying. options are looking slim, you look at sam and see him lost in staring at the door behind here’s johnny’d.

“personally…”

“i like the disease.”

“dean stop! i don’t wanna use this blade on you!” force you didn’t foresee escaping you commanded your voice in that moment, blade drawn, eyes cold - only for a moment as he looks at you.

christ, your skin crawls when he does. you feel that evil radiating from him, seeping into the ground, wielded by a hammer.

“that sucks for you, doesn’t it sweetheart? cause you really mean that.” laughter bleeds into another hit at the door and you realize you only have so much time left before your brain will coat the wall or worse.

“look, if you come out of that room, we won’t have a choice!” sam’s confidence is ever dwindling. christ knows neither of you want to hurt him.

“sure you do.” he pauses. a chunk has been blown out enough from the door that his full gaze is seen in all it’s glory.

“and i know which one you’ll make. ain’t that right, sammy?”

another blow. “but see, here’s the thing. i’m lucky,” you and sam both raise your knives in unison and you clench your jaw. “hell i’m blessed! cause there’s just enough demon left in me that killing you ain’t no choice at all.”

another three blows and the door comes down, you split when sam does, sprinting as if your life depended on it, which it did. you didn’t stick around to see him leave from behind the door, but with a call of both of your names you assume he’s back onto stalking.

“come on, sweetcheeks. let’s have a beer, talk about it.” his voice is following once again, you duck behind a hallway and hear those footsteps following just like before.

“i’m tired of playing. let’s finish this game.”

you’re just up behind sam, he takes initiative to look around the corner now back at square one. the alarm is off so hearing him is more clear, but with the way his voice echoes and now that he’s fallen silent, you have no idea of which direction he’s headed until you feel a presence behind you.

“sam-!” you duck, sam does too to dodge the hit of his hammer. it’s stuck in the wall when he whips around - on instinct your blade meeting his throat.

you hold it there with a shaking, sweaty hand. eyes blown so wide you know he can see right through you to the source of your fear. he’s eating it up, even with a knife pulled on him he plays dominance.

“well..” he draws out, sam’s got a blade just behind him as well, looking to you over his brother’s shoulder. “look at you, honey bunches.”

your breathing is shaky, and despite the fear rolling off you in waves and the ice cold gaze being delivered to you from the body of the man you love so dearly, you hold steady and swallow down the ever growing fire of anxiety in your veins.

he grins across the blade.

“do it.” his parted lips slur, quickly tightening his jaw with a playful glimmer in his green eyes.

“it’s all you.” those gritted teeth hiss.

tension holds you tight on it’s string, you look at him and. you can’t. not him. not like this. not all of these years you’ve spent together - but this went without saying. he knew you wouldn’t - couldn’t - from the get go.

you drop the blade in defeat and for a moment his eyes flicker to that cold black nothing - when two arms wrap around him and the moment nearly stops.

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ooachilliaoo · 7 months

Text

Sloth

Today, Elissa reflected as she pulled her blade free from the abomination that lay dead at her feet, was turning out to be a really weird day.

Once upon a time, that would have meant very little. But given that the last few days had seen her stave off an army of the undead, thwart a demon possession (well, almost), and manage not to punch Lady Isolde in the face, all amongst numerous darkspawn attacks… She thought that her barometer for weird had been sufficiently recalibrated. So now when she called something weird, it was significant.

“This is such a weird day,” Alistair said.

She grinned. It had only been a matter of months since they’d first met, yet she felt like she’d known him for years.

And she’d never met anyone who thought so much like she did.

“I would have thought this was par for the course for a templar,” she teased, because, Maker, they could use some levity.

They’d come to the mages, seeking help for Connor and an alliance against the blight. Instead, they’d found that half their army had already been turned into abominations. To protect the other half, they’d had to slaughter their way through said abominations, before the templars just up and killed them all.

“Ex- templar,” Alistair corrected. Given the circumstances, she could well understand his emphasis on the ‘ex’ part. “And no… This is pretty much the worst case scenario for any Circle. Most of the time you just stand around and look intimidating.”

Elissa grinned but when she glanced over to share it with him, she caught sight of Wynne’s ever-so-slightly affronted expression and quickly wiped the smile off of her face.

“All right,” she said. “Let’s keep climbing. The longer we take, the less likely it is we find Irving alive.”

Wynne nodded. “The stairway is this way,” she said, leading them all through a nearby door…

To face the ugliest thing Elissa had ever seen.

“Oh… look,” the thing drawled, and it was definitely a drawl. She’d never heard a voice speak so slowly. It was almost melodic. “Visitors. I’d entertain you, but… Too much effort involved.”

“Good. That will make you easier to kill.”

Because this thing – whatever it was – was most certainly a demon of some kind. And a pretty powerful one, if the body on the floor was anything to go by.

“But why?” it said in that same drawling tone. “Aren’t you tired of all the violence in the world? I know I am.”

Now that it had been mentioned, she found that she was kind of tired of fighting every day. Of spending so much time amidst blood and gore.

“Wouldn’t you like to just lay down and… forget about all this? Leave it all behind?”

The weariness hit her like a bolt of lightning, an ache in her bones so deep and all-consuming that her knees almost buckled. Her eyelids were impossibly heavy, and, before she could even think, she’d closed them for a few seconds.

It was really hard to open them again. She only did so because – through the fog of exhaustion building in her brain – she realised that this was some sort of trick.

“Can’t… keep eyes open,” Alistair said from behind her. When she turned to look it was to see him swaying on his feet, blinking rapidly. “Someone… pinch me.”

“I’ll not listen to your lies, demon!” Leliana said, somehow managing to lift her arms in order to cover her ears. “You have no… power over… me…”

“Resist,” Wynne told them, surprisingly seeming more awake than anyone. “You must resist, else we are all lost.”

She took a step towards them, towards the door. If they could just get out of its influence maybe… maybe if she pinched Alistair and he could pinch her, and they could…

“Why do you fight?” the demon continued. “You deserve a rest. The world will go on without you.”

But it wouldn’t… She and Alistair… They were needed… They had to…

The sun shone through the window, waking her before she was really ready. Groaning, she rolled over, burying herself back under the blankets. Her bed was warm, comforting, and smelled of home.

Read the rest on AO3

#alistair theirin #dragon age origins #dragon age #alistair x cousland #My Fic #The Fade #Love this mission but I always hated how the Wardens dreamworld wasn't related to their origin #so I fixed it #otherwise cannon compliant #hope you all enjoy

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cheesecakezyum · 1 year

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hey, hru? i just found your blog and tbh i really love it and your writing, it’s just so good! so can i request the mayor realizing that he likes the reader, and how he would confess? thanks! <3

Anyone Can Change, If They Try Hard Enough!

Ooh! Sure! We all love some unhinged old men am I right or am I right?

My hiatus has been so long simply due to some financial, family and more personal issues I’d rather not discuss publicly. Writing doesn’t pay my bills after all! Maybe I should make a Kofi or personal commissions? Most likely not— I’m just here to have fun. Anyways, I’ll be back to writing the multitude of prompts that have been given to me over my hiatus. To think that my last post had me at 150 followers, and now I’m almost at half a thousand now! I’ll try my best to make it up to you within the upcoming months as well as a Christmas special piece on Ao3! Stay tuned my lovelies <3

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♡- I wouldn’t say what he feels is love at first sight. Quite the opposite truly. You, being a known rebel against the Lady Bone Demon throughout the period of time the world was in utter disarray.

♡- He was truly and utterly devoted— in any way, shape or form; His goal was to stay by her side for the rest of eternity if granted such a gracious opportunity. Why ask for anything more?

♡- One of his duties? Taking care of the foolish mortals who dared to disobey the new world. That was where he initially met you. Someone who had daringly risked their life to let a family of four flee. You jumped in front of them! You don’t know what had happened to them after, but it didn’t matter. They had more to live for than you did in your brisk opinion

♡- As foolish as the mayor believed you to be, he did nothing but cackle and unceremoniously take his leave. It was hilarious! Why would you would risk your life for these people? It was utter nonsense!

♡- A small part of him admired your bravery, no matter how insane it seemed. The mayor was reminded of his own loyalty to his lady.

♡- The act had left him in your thoughts, so utterly long until he was ripped away from any bone demon powers he had once attained in a massive quantity. One minute he was fighting the monkey king, and the next?— forced to give out information to the very same people trying to stop their plan to rewrite the world as the simian took his very place.

♡- He was able to get away, as easy as it was when the scums just left him there. The only problem was, he had nowhere to go. Battered and bruised, the old mayor of the city would stick out like a sore thumb! There was only one option.

♡- He had to find you. Maybe because he showed you such mercy, you’d repay him with a safe place to dwell until things died down? If anything, you’d even get on your knees and kiss his shoes! Yes yes, that’s the plan.

♡- It took a few days for him to find you, but once he did? Ohhh, you certainly looked different than you did during the ‘apocalypse’. You dressed quite nicely! Formal wear similar to his! He never noticed you worked right in town hall; the place he dwelled most being undercover. Who knew?

♡- Back to your situation, you had moved to a much better area; Close but not exactly in the heart of the city you once did! Due to many losing their homes, you had opted to stay in a friends condo she had for rent, which was practically spotless! It was way better than the now ashes of your former home. You finished up settling the last of your boxes in the living room before hearing a clean three knocks at the door.

♡- You didn’t like who you saw. Not one bit. It was the mayor of the city, monster, the very same one who threatened to obliterate a family simply asking for mercy? He looked like an utter mess.

“Well hello there ci!—“

You had shut the door before you could hear any more. Had he been stalking you? What was his reason for such an intrusion.

You heard his muffled voice on the other side, but instead chose to preoccupy yourself with better things than an old, no— ancient man outside your door. You weren’t a young hot shot either! Being in your late 30s has proved to you that you were simply gaining maturity.

Something was just, off about him.

♡- By evening, you had realized that he was still at the door— waiting with his usual eerie smile. What had even happened to him for someone with such power to come here? If he really was a threat— destroying your home would’ve been a piece of cake.

♡- You made stew, and what you didn’t expect was your body to move for you.

The man was no longer waiting by the door, instead seated in a gentlemanly manner alongside your exterior walls, you had lifted a hand. What were you doing?

“Hey….are you hungry?”

He looked up at you, the very first time you didn’t see his face with forced glee.

♡- Maybe you did have a death wish.

─────────────────

I have the horrible ability to turn simple prompts into ideas for full pieces of work. Anywayssss, thx for reading!!

#lmk #lego monkie kid #monkie kid #lmk x reader #the mayor #mayor lmk #lmk mayor #lmk mayor x reader #OLD MENNNN #Dilfs? My specialty

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randomfoggytiger · 1 year

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X-Files Typing: Dissecting 'One Son'

(Part II)

Previous part found here; but to sum it up--

Mulder's Ti Hero is immovable in its beliefs, because it has taken meticulous time and effort to vet who it trusts and believes in. Since Diana is in that inner circle-- despite the years of separation and suspicious circumstances that malign her character-- Ti Hero will not budge without mountains of evidence. INTPs are constantly trying to fill a hole in their life: acceptance from others through their Fe Inferior. They are easily manipulated and exploited over and over again (by Pheobe, by fake Samantha clones, by Teena Mulder, by Krycek, by CSM, etc.) when told they'd be able to be loved IF they did this or that to help this or that manipulative person. But when their face has been kicked in one too many times, their Fi Demon rears its head and begins to apathetically self-destruct, pulling away from everyone and indulging in their vices until they die (autoerotic asphyxiation being a very apt example of that behavior, btw.) Not only is his stubborn loyalty not great in this instance, but his Se Trickster also inhibits him from correctly reading Diana's behaviors.

Diana’s Apartment

Mulder knows where Diana lives, whipping out either a key (interesting) or a lock pick from its sheath before opening her door.

But what's interesting is that Mulder has no idea how to navigate the apartment--

sure, the light's are off, but there is some light from the window. Instead, he pops on his pen light and wanders haphazardly about, tossing open drawers and rifling through random trinkets in his unfocused quest to find any clues. Which means he's never been there before, no matter how many keys Diana has given him.

While exploring the apartment, he runs into CSM, who talks Mulder down and effectively destroys Mulder’s mission with the Truth-- as only a corrupt man in power, helpless to stop an invading alien force, sees it. Mulder is given all his answers at once, overwhelmed; but can do nothing with them. Like so many paralyzing experiences in his life, he is too late.

Not even the men who had fifty years to prepare have anything to show for it, or any way to stop the enemy. Mulder is cut down; and his hopeless Fi Demon becomes apathetic and passive.

Diana walks in soon after CSM leaves; but drops her pretense slightly while Mulder explains that “fate, destiny-- whatever it’s called when you realize the choices you thought you had in life were already made” brought him there.

When Mulder describes his old quest as “futile”, Diana immediately counters “Why futile?” sharply and almost… afraid, as if she truly believed that Mulder could stop the aliens somehow. Her resignation is active, preparing for their next moves, clutching Mulder's hand, reading CSM's instructions, and slowly moving in to kiss Mulder.

Mulder doesn’t react. He simply sits, and half-smiles when it’s over: happy at some form of love, no matter how hollow. His Fe Inferior is feeding his Fi Demon self-indulgent signals-- "this behavior is making you happy, don't you feel accepted and loved?" But he has lost his inner zest, accepting this shallow love because it's cheap and all he believes he deserves. (Even Diana senses something is off.)

It’s unbearably sad. Mulder has given up on himself, devaluing everything his Ni Critic wants-- Scully-- and resigning himself to self-punishment for the doubt he'd had toward the one person he could always trust. He's back to his unresolved sentiment in Fight the Future: "you owe me nothing", thinking he's taken too much from her, cost her everything, and given her nothing in return.

This is Fi Demon in full swing-- and it must never, NEVER be allowed to be indulged by those who truly love and care for INTPs. A true sign that Diana does not truly love or care for her former boyfriend: not only would she know about this tendency from their previous relationship, but she would also know how to stop it. But she doesn't for her own selfish ends.

The Call

Mulder calls Scully as he's leaving Diana's apartment. He cryptically tells her he is with Diana-- without elaborating-- and pauses for a reaction (which he does not get.)

Mulder had thought Scully had given up on him, only hoping somehow to convince her to come to El Rice Airforce Base to save her own life as well. What he hadn't expected was that Scully had NOT given up on him

and was actively following his leads and his theories and insisting HE accompany HER on her Mulder-esque mission.

His apathy ("it's not important")

is jolted in the face of her unyielding insistence of going after Cassandra “whether you’re coming or not"; and, while anger becomes the short-term predominant emotion, Mulder is successfully freed from the self-destructive comfort of Fi Demon and Fe Inferior's self-loathing.

Suddenly, he's curious about her plan and interested in her pursuit.

With renewed vim and vigor, Mulder ditches Diana to meet up with Scully. The sparkle is back in his eyes; and his stride is swift and purposeful once again.

Potomac Yards

This is Scully's mission; and she zooms down the railroad tracks, even swerving the car in a semi-circle reverse when Mulder's gut directs them to follow one of the cars.

She then pulls them onto the tracks--

so that the both of them can jump out and stop the train in an unspoken, synchronized shootout.

Both of them are in the zone, moving in and out of each other’s personal spaces despite the potential tensions, at ease with evading danger and protecting the world while relying on their "unspoken."

Yielding no results, they hitch a ride-- Mulder gives Scully the 'shotgun' seat-- with Skinner

(who asks why they couldn’t tell him their lives were in danger “over the phone”) to El Rico Air Force Base… too late.

All are burned. CSM and Diana are gone.

The Loss of Spender

During the censorial meeting with Kersh,

Mulder and Scully don’t interact personally; but they are still in tune despite the raw feelings of failure that burn deeply.

Both are seated next to each other, avoiding Jeffrey's direction because of his involvement in their dismissal. ...Until he surprises both of them by attributing the tragedy to his own and Kersh's interference with Mulder and Scully's work.

Mulder is moved by Spender's departing grasp on his shoulder, realizing that he had snubbed a great man who could have truly understood him a way that few can or could (and that would have accepted his Fe Inferior, but was prevented by another of his Ti Hero's deep-rooted biases.) The sorrow and pain worsen when Jeffrey announces his resignation and his support for the X-Files to be returned to his predecessors. Mulder swallows convulsively and blinks to collect his near-surface emotions.

Mulder cryptically describes the Syndicate's fears for their loved ones and moral failures to protect them, acknowledging his own with a pointed and faltering “...wh--who thought they could sleep with the enemy…” to Scully.

Her unresolved anger and disgust cracks through with a raised eye brown and a flinch in her expression.

Mulder sums up the next stage of their professional-- and personal-- lives as: “The future is here, and all bets are off.”

When Kersh demands Scully “make some sense” of Mulder’s cryptic warnings, she doesn’t disown or discredit or even distance herself from Mulder. She refuses to elaborate to her boss at all, opting to follow Mulder's lead of silence and simply respond:

“Sir, I wouldn’t bet against him.”

Where Does That Leave Them

Well… the next episode is Monday; and Scully teases Mulder over his cantankerous waterbed and fate theory

while depositing his check and pretending not to observe his besotted little "gazing" glances in normal fashion...

so they're doing just fine.

But the question is: why?

Was Mulder Involved With Diana During S6?

(For an in-depth look at Mulder's motives through his Type, I recommend looking my Mulder, The Spooky INTP as well.)

No; by his own words, Mulder thought he had to "sleep with the enemy" to avoid the destruction of the world and the people he loved. This reveals that he had to consider Diana an enemy first before he could think of her as an easy escape route or a second option.

Could he have slept with Diana any time before he considered her an enemy? No-- because his falter and quick look reveals his awareness of the magnitude of his confession and how much it would hurt Scully and her trust in him and their unspoken affection.

Which it did. Because, once again, he was selling his integrity short as a sacrificial martyr while cheapening the value of their romantic relationship; which is not what Scully wanted or needed. Her distain for this quality of his reflects in her quick eyebrow twitch. Also contained in that eyebrow is a death wish for Diana Fowley for bringing Mulder further to his knees at his lowest moment.

Why Did Scully Call Mulder To Help Her Rescue Cassandra?

This episode gave Scully a fascinating amount of powerful agency--

she draws the line in the sand to Mulder, she is prepared to walk away, she demands that they help Cassandra, she drives the car and whips it around like a maniac; and Mulder respects all of it by providing the role of "map boy" on the drive and giving her the shotgun spot by Skinner. He has lost his faith, his purpose, his mission; and Scully steps forward, inverting her Starbuck role to help Mulder regain his own footing while tugging him along in her wake. It's a beautiful sight to behold.

Scully had not given up on Mulder. Instead of activating her Ni Demon-- walking away and never looking back-- Scully combined her three greatest strengths to save Mulder: Si Hero (duty, honor, and tireless responsibility), Te Parent (information input machine that prevents those around them from devolving into stupidity or preventable mistakes), and Fi Child (personal morals that stay tirelessly fixed on doing the right thing). Together, these three lit the fire of her conviction ablaze, and helped her drag Mulder out of the puddle of mistakes he'd collapsed into. By putting her little feet to the pedals, she inspired his Ni Critic to stop waffling in useless hopelessness, pushing him to make a conscious, forward-moving choice. And though her Ni Demon's fear of the unknown has paralyzed her in the past, Scully overcomes it now by creating her own support system (even if he lost his capability a bit there.)

In conclusion: Scully drags Mulder out of himself by inspiring him-- she faces the unknown, which terrifies her, face on; and it pulls him from his apathy to support her.

Why Were They on Good Terms So Quickly?

Besides the almighty "the-episodes-don't-impact-each-other" creative decisions of the writing team, Mulder and Scully's Types are disgustingly easy to resolve relationship issues with.

Mulder's Fe Inferior craves acceptance from others; and when it realizes it's hurt or offended someone in anyway, they will be sensitive to that person's needs... as long as they can remember them. Luckily, he is partnered with Scully, whose Si Hero (long term memory) and Fi Child (expecting to be treated like a VIP person) keep him from forgetting her important boundaries.

Scully's Si Hero is thankful for whatever is given; but is particularly touched by someone giving them extra thought-- their special brand of coffee creamer, the room set to their preferred temperature, the car warmed up before they get in, etc. But most importantly, touch-- yes, with hands-- melts an ISTJ's bitterness faster than anything, because it is that other person reaching out to and reassuring them they are wanted. Since she and Mulder do this naturally, it's only a matter of time (and a short one at that) before her Ni Demon's fears (that she wasn't Mulder's preferred choice) will dissolve into nothing.

And since she's back to actively pursuing (well, strongly hinting at) a relationship with Mulder by the time Arcadia rolls around (link here), it's pretty clear there are no hard feelings about Diana.

Thank you for reading!

Enjoy!

Disclaimers: This is a self-assessed analysis. This information is not based on the abominable MBTI system (which has been butchered from its original Jungian typology since ~WWII); instead, it’s a combination between the works of Jung’s type psychology, Dr. Linda Berens’ Communication styles, Dr. Dario Nardi’s EEG brain scan compiled research, and others’ data and practices as compiled and simplified by CSJoseph. This system is based only on the Nature side of Nature/Nurture; and each “type” is not a “box” to fit everyone into– simply a tool to help understand the basics of the human mind that science has only begun to fathom in its limited scope.

#txf #X-Files Typing #Dissecting One Son #Part 2 #Types #analysis #meta #MBTI #but not #mine #One Son #S6

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