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ohproserpine · 2 months

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viii. deer dolly

see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, alastor tweaking, VERY heavy warning for violence and blood, overdose, murder, DEATH, hunting, VERY graphic descriptions of injuries, vox being painfully obvious, vox malfunctions (lmao L), drowning, flooding, mentions of glass piercing skin, a gun, threats of death, valentino warning, alastor's demon form

Alastor's head snapped to the side, with a sickening crack accompanying the movement

"Show me," he snarled, his voice taking on an inhuman quality, heavily filtered by radio waves.

Without hesitation, Angel gestured towards the billboard, his expression blank.

"Get in there, and see for ya'self."

A few blocks away, at the Vox Tower.

The heavy door before you swung open to reveal a diner. Chandeliers hung from the lofty ceiling, the crystals casting shattered reflections of light across the expanse of golden tables below. The centerpiece of the room was an expansive aquarium, its transparent walls housing sleek, metallic sharks that glided gracefully through the rose-tinted waters.

Vox guided you inside with a hand on your back, leading you towards a secluded booth. He was dressed in a neat, crisp royal blue suit, perfectly matching the attire chosen for you by Velvette. She had dressed you in a stunning cerulean silk dress that hugged your figure in all the right places. The fabric flowed gracefully as you moved, the long skirt sweeping across the floor with every step of your white heels.

"I didn't realize there was a restaurant tucked away in here," you whispered, your eyes widening in awe as you took in the glowing ambiance of the place.

"Well, we at VoxTek are full of surprises, my dear," Vox chuckled smoothly as he moved to pull back the chair at your table. "It's quite a diverse company."

"I see," you murmured, a sense of intrigue coloring your tone. Taking a step closer, you sank into the plush seat, a soft hum of contentment escaping your lips as you settled in. Vox pushed you in before taking his seat across from you. With a snap of his finger, he gestured for a nearby waiter to approach.

Once the menus were presented, Vox glanced over at you expectantly. "Feel free to order whatever you'd like, my dear. Consider it a treat for all your hard work." A waiter slid over a tablet for the bill, and Vox pulled out a sleek black card which he quickly swiped. "Take your time. We have all night to go over your contract."

Grateful for the gesture, you returned a smile before turning your attention to the menu, scanning the options while Vox took a sip from his glass of wine, the scarlet liquid swirling.

Before the moment could continue, however, a sudden wave of static crackled through the room, causing the tables to tremble, drinks spilling and tabletop decor tumbling aside as the lights flickered erratically. Startled, Vox choked on his drink, coughing as he accidentally spilled it on himself.

You looked around in worry, confusion furrowing your brow as you whipped your head around to assess the situation. A few of the patrons were talking amongst themselves in hushed tones, their concern mirroring your own.

"What was that…?" you asked, your voice barely audible above the din of the lingering static.

"Second fucking time," Vox grumbled under his breath as he attempted to wipe the wine off his crisp white dress shirt, but his efforts only seemed to smear the stain further across his chest. The crimson stain stark against the pristine fabric made it look as if he was just mauled.

With a resigned sigh, he abandoned his futile efforts and without a care in the world, tossed the soiled tablecloth back onto the table. Despite the mishap, he flashed you a reassuring smile.

"I'm sure it was nothing, my dear. Just a temporary glitch in the system. I'll have my workers look into it later," he said, waving it off.

Vox clapped his hands with a sharp, authoritative gesture, summoning a few waiters to swiftly clean up your table and retrieve the menus from your hands. They rushed over with a sense of urgency, their movements swift as they began tidying up the contents, the clatter of plates and silverware echoing through the air.

Meanwhile, a tall, slim blonde receptionist approached, her steps slow as she made her way towards Vox. Her slender fingers pushed her slim red glasses up on the bridge of her nose, accentuating the sharpness of her eyes as she addressed you both with a polite nod of her head.

"Mister Vox," she began, tapping a pen along her clipboard. "I have a few tables available for you upstairs. Would you like to transfer while we get the ground floor cleaned up?"

"Do that for us, will you?" Vox nodded, standing from the table with a sigh you couldn’t hear but could see in the slump of his shoulders. Straightening up, he brushed invisible dust off the front of his jacket and suit pants with swift, agitated motions.

"This day has been nothing but shit to me. The hell even was that?" Vox muttered under his breath as he glanced down at his watch, a luxurious 10-million soul bucks carat model he had allowed himself to purchase a few moons ago. "Alright. Time is ticking. Let's not waste any more time and move somewhere else, love."

With a nod, you followed suit and stood up, mirroring his movements as you prepared to leave the table. But before you could take a step, another round of static swept through the room, much stronger this time. The vibrations pulsed through the floor, causing you to stumble and grasp onto the table for support. The lights flickered and dimmed before abruptly going out, enveloping the room in darkness.

"What the fuck?" Vox snarled, the glow of his screen casting eerie shadows in the darkened environment as he turned sharply to the receptionist, the faint illumination of his face acting as a temporary flashlight.

"Get this checked out, will you?" Vox hissed.

"Of course, Mister Vox," the receptionist nodded briskly, maintaining her composure despite the chaos unfolding around her. Her pen scratched against the paper as she made a note of his request. "I'll have someone look into it right away."

"Satan. Alright, come on, doll," Vox called for you and slipped his hand into yours, interlocking them together with a firm grip. Reluctantly, you accepted his hand, feeling a sense of unease creeping over you as you followed him towards the staircase.

Together, you ascended the steps, the lingering sensation of static still hanging heavily in the air like an ominous fog. Another wave swept through the atmosphere, causing your skin to tingle with prickles and sending a shiver coursing up your spine.

Something was off.

The second floor was eerily quiet, devoid of the bustling activity in the ground floor. The subdued murmurs of the remaining patrons echoed faintly against the walls. You noticed that some of the only patrons left were already making their way down the stairs, their hurried footsteps punctuating the hushed atmosphere as they descended the glass steps.

As you scanned the area, your eyes landed on a TV perched high on the wall. Whatever show had been playing before was now reduced to nothing but static and glitches, its wires crackling with electricity like an angry serpent. Thin wisps of smoke curled up from the tangled mess.

"Doll?" Vox turned his head, catching your wandering eyes with a knowing look.

"I apologize for all this trouble, my dear, but worry not, everything will be handled in a jiffy," he reassured you, his thumb tracing soothing circles over your skin as he guided you by the railings.

Leaning his elbows against the metal, he took your hand into both of his, kneading and caressing it as he grumbled to himself. "If I knew this was going to happen, I would have taken you out another night."

"Well, there's no way you could have seen that coming," you muttered as you turned your gaze towards the ground floor. Below, various demons and imps scurried around, attempting to manage the chaos. With a shrug, you moved to lean against the railings, the cool metal soothing against your skin.

Resting your cheek on your free hand, you continued, "I mean, there's always another day. We can even hash out the contract right now."

At your words, Vox visibly deflated, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he cast you a dry look. "Always so professional, are you?"

"Yes?" you replied with a nod, tilting your head in genuine curiosity. "Is that bad?"

"No, not at all," Vox huffed, a barely concealed smile playing at the corners of his lips as he pulled you closer to him. "It's actually quite charming."

With a yelp, you stumbled into his arms, your hands pressing against his chest for balance. Vox leaned in further, his left hand coming to rest on your back, his touch gentle yet firm as he looked deep into your eyes.

"But would it be bad to say I wanted something more?" he murmured, a pinkish gradient tint glowing softly on his screen, casting a warm and inviting glow across his features.

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden intimacy. "Something more?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze softened, his thumb gently tracing the curve of your cheek, his touch tender against your skin.

"Yes, my dear," he murmured, trailing his thumb down to press and part your lips. "Something… personal."

"I-I don't really get what you're telling me," you stammered, your heart pounding in your chest. As Vox leaned in closer and closer, you found yourself backing away until you could no longer retreat, your back arching dangerously over the railings.

"Then perhaps it's best if I show you," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.

Popping the lid open, a familiar golden band sat inside, glimmering softly in the dim light of the room. Your eyes widened with recognition, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"My ring," you gasped, your fingers trembling slightly as you reached out to pluck the precious jewelry from its box. However, your hand halted in midair as you noticed an unfamiliar engraving gleaming on its honey-colored surface. A wavy symbol was etched onto it, its silver detailing standing out against the smooth gold of the ring.

"Vox, what's… what's this?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly as your eyes darted back and forth between the two sights. You could feel a hot fire starting to coil in your gut, your skin already slowly cracking. "What'd you do?"

Vox's expression remained impassive for a moment before softening with a touch of vulnerability. "It's a symbol, my dear," he explained, his voice gentle as he slowly took your hand and raised it to his lips. "A symbol of our… partnership."

"Partnership?" you echoed, your eyes tracing the movement of his lips as he pressed a gentle kiss to your fingers.

"You'd make a good wife," he blurted out, catching you off guard. Your gaze shot up to meet his, wide with surprise, as his declaration hung in the air between you. "I could provide for you. I could make you happy. Give you anything, anything you want."

A clawed hand, its digits tipped with sharp, pointed nails, delicately plucked the ring out of its velvet cushion. Taking your hand in his, he gently slipped the ring onto your finger, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. Before you could even process what had just happened, a wave of static washed over the room, crackling through the air like tiny bolts of lightning, causing him to curse under his breath.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he growled.

The room trembled again as another wave of static hit, this time with greater intensity than any of the past waves. The floors shook beneath your feet, the building groaned in protest, and you stumbled forward with a gasp, your knees buckling under the force of the tremors. Desperately, you reached out to grab onto Vox for support, clinging to him as the world seemed to tilt and sway around you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the receptionist stumbling toward you both. Her calm demeanor had vanished, replaced by frantic movements and panic in her voice.

"Sir, sir!" she huffed, her words punctuated by labored breaths as she stumbled to her feet. Her hair was disheveled, and her clothes were torn. "The building is under attack!"

"Attack?" Vox scoffed out in disbelief, his shoulders shaking from his laughter. "Who in Lucifer's name would even think of crossing me?"

The receptionist shook her head vigorously, her eyes wide with terror, strands of her disheveled hair clinging to her sweaty forehead.

"The radio demon," she rasped out, her voice barely above a whisper, laden with fear.

You froze, your hands shaking as they moved to cover your gaping mouth. Another wave of static shook the building, but your thoughts were scattered, unable to focus amidst the chaos.

Vox's grip tightened on you and the handle of the railings, his claws raking against the metal with a sharp scrape. His expression slowly shifted, the laughter fading as a dangerous seriousness settled over him. He took a deep breath, shutting his eyes briefly before looking back at the receptionist with a dark glint in his eyes, a storm brewing within him.

"What did you just say?"

Before a response could be made, an explosion thundered through the floor, sending debris and dust swirling through the air. In shock, you watched as tendrils of inky shadows began to writhe and thrash, lashing out and slamming into the walls with bone-shaking force.

A particularly powerful tendril crashed against the aquarium, its force shattering the glass and unleashing a deluge of water that flooded down through the ground floor, drowning the patrons below. The sharks were caught in the torrent, their powerful bodies tossed and thrashed about as they were swept away.

Another tendril snaked its way through the dust, wrapping around the receptionist with a vice-like grip before flinging her high into the air like a ragdoll. The desperate cries of the poor woman echoed through the room before abruptly falling silent as she slammed into a wall with a sickening thud.

"Fuck—" Vox cursed, pulling you into him. His arms tightened around you protectively as he scanned the scene, his eyes darting around in search of any functioning piece of technology that could offer an escape and allow him to teleport you both out. However, his efforts proved futile; every piece of tech in the room was malfunctioning, either from the rampant waves of static or the overflow of water from the shattered aquarium.

Creak.

Suddenly, there was a deafening sound, cutting through the air and the chandelier above you both began to tilt dangerously, its crystals catching the flickering light before it started falling. Vox's curses mingled with the din as he swiftly scooped you into his arms, his muscles straining under the weight as he sprinted away just in the nick of time. With a thunderous crash, the chandelier came hurtling down, shattering into a thousand glittering fragments upon impact with the floor.

The glass shrapnel, propelled by the force of the chandelier's collapse, began to ricochet in your direction. Reacting swiftly, Vox made a split-second decision and hurled you over the railing and onto the ground floor. Screaming, you landed with a thud, the shallow water from the shattered aquarium splashing around you, soaking your dress and sending a shiver down your spine. However, Vox's own descent was less fortunate. As he jumped to follow, a few sharp glass shards found their mark, piercing his metallic body, tearing through his frame, and exposing the wires beneath.

"Ah…" Pushing yourself off the floor, you grappled with a moment of hazy confusion before a shock of fiery pain shot up your leg, so intense that your body instinctively recoiled, nails clawing at the flooded floors. A scream threatened to escape your lips, but you bit it back, your breath catching in your throat. Your eyes blinked rapidly against the pain, struggling to adjust to the darkness surrounding you.

Everything blurred together in a mess of shadows and rushing water. Your breaths grew heavy and frantic, your heart pounding in your chest as you began to shake from the sheer intensity of the pain.

"Doll—!" Vox's voice crackled through the darkness, his form glitching and sparking from the water that seeped into his exposed circuits. Before his outstretched hand could reach you, shadowed tendrils snaked around him, yanking him away with a jolt and tossing him aside, sending him skidding into a nearby column.

You watched in horror, the dim light reflecting off the wet floor and casting eerie shadows on your face. Just then, the tendrils, like twisted serpents, slithered towards you, causing you to shut your eyes tight, bracing for the impending danger.

Time seemed to stand still as you lay there, your breaths shallow and rapid, every nerve on edge.

Still, nothing happened.

Slowly, cautiously, you dared to open your eyes, your vision blurred. As your sight cleared, you found yourself face to face with a familiar shadow.

"William?" you croaked out, your voice raspy from the exertion. William, Alastor's loyal shadow, perked up eagerly at the sound of your voice, its form undulating as it slithered around you, enveloping you in a gentle embrace.

With a weak smile, you raised a trembling hand to pat at the comforting darkness. "Hey, buddy…"

Your attention was abruptly torn away as a red blur darted towards the spot where Vox had been slammed into. Shock seized you, freezing you in place as you watched with wide eyes, feeling your pulse pounding against your chest and skull in a frantic rhythm.

William followed your gaze, his form stiffening as he silently scanned the area for any sign of danger. After a tense minute of no one seen nor heard, he turned back to you, his shadowy head tilting in confusion.

With quivering lips you uttered one name that had explained everything, "Alastor."

"Mgh!" Vox grunted as he collided with the wall. The sickening crack tore through his body as he crumpled to the floor amidst a splash of sparking wires, debris, and hanging metal. His systems went haywire, his vision obscured by flashes of glitches and static, each burst of light stabbing into his consciousness like searing knives.

Despite the system failures, Vox couldn't miss the sight of a familiar red-clad demon stalking towards him with a menacing grin etched on his face.

"You..."

Struggling to move, the overlord felt his arm pinned under debris, the weight pressing down on him like a vise, squeezing the air from his lungs. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he sucked in a breath. Each inhale felt like fire scorching his insides.

Finding the leverage, with closed eyes and clenched fists, Vox braced himself and pushed with one hand while the other pulled, every movement sending waves of torment shooting through his body like bolts of lightning.

There was a sickening crack, the sound drowned out by the deafening roar of static and electricity that erupted from him. His back arched involuntarily, nerves and sinew spasming, his body instinctively attempting to curl in on itself to shield against the onslaught of pain as he ripped his arm off. Opening his mouth to scream, Vox found no voice escaping, only a glitched, distorted wheeze.

"My, my," Alastor chuckled, his voice dripping with sadistic amusement as he watched Vox dry-heave from the pain, relishing every moment of his torment. "Good show! Ho-ho! It's always such a thrill to witness your suffering."

"Wh-Wh-What the fuck do you want, old man?" Vox's voice glitched out as he shakily got to his knees, beads of water dripping and soaking through his suit, mingling with the blood and grime that coated his skin. The stench of metallic decay hung heavy in the air, mixed with the acrid scent of burning wires.

"You've got some nerve coming for me straight at my base," he shouted out, his screen flashing with a fierce red hue. "I've got you at a disadvantage!"

Alastor raised a brow in mocking surprise, twisting his head side to side to survey the torn-up tower with exaggerated interest. "Who's at a disadvantage?" he quipped with a shrug, his tone laced with derision as he gestured casually at the chaos surrounding them.

"I'm not the one on my knees, old pal," Alastor mused, his tongue dripping with sinister amusement as he tapped his staff against the flooded floors, the sound echoing. In one, swift motion, a shadow shot out, piercing Vox's shoulder and pinning him back against the wall, the tendrils coiling around him like a vice.

"Fuck you!" Vox hissed, his anger boiling over as he shot out wires of his own. Alastor made no attempt to dodge, staying put as the wires struck through his shoulder, flesh and muscle spraying out in a grisly display. Despite the gruesome injury, Alastor seemed unfazed, tilting his head with an audible crack, his grin widening into something unsettling.

"Sloppy," Alastor spat, blood trickling down the side of his mouth and dripping down his chin. With deliberate slowness, he raised a hand to grasp at the wires, his fingers curling around them with a sickening creak as he pulled them out.

"What the fuck are you even here for?!" Vox screamed.

"Funny you should ask," Alastor mused, his empty gaze boring into Vox's screen. Shadows wrapped around his injured shoulder, forming a makeshift bandage, while his other tendrils reached out, snaking towards Vox's ankles and forcibly dragging him forward. The demon fell onto his back, briefly submerged in the water as he was pulled towards Alastor.

Humming, Alastor slammed his foot down on Vox's torn arm, eliciting a scream of pain as sparks shot out. Chuckling, the Radio Delon hand came down hard, driving Vox's own wire into his eye with a sickening crack, causing the screen to fracture in a spiderweb of cracks.

"I'm here for my wife."

"Wife?" Vox narrowed his eye at Alastor in confusion for a moment, his screen flashing with red, blue, and yellow hues, before widening in recognition at the sight of a golden glint on Alastor's mangled, clawed hands.

Immediately, he snarled, his voice barely audible over the glitches and static, "I ain't telling you shit."

"Oh," Alastor drawled slowly, twirling his cane in his hands with a devilish grin. "You will."

Alastor moved with startling speed, lunging forward to grasp Vox's arms with his bare hands. With a vicious snarl, he began to tear at Vox's chest cavity, his claws digging into the metal casing with a sickening screech as he began to pull it off. Vox screamed in pain, his systems protesting against the assault, but he fought back, unleashing a flurry of sparks and glitches in a desperate attempt to break free.

"Old piece of shit!" Vox roared, his words dripping with venom as he punctuated them with a furious pound of his fist against the ground. Leaning up, he lunged forward, his hand shooting out to scratch at Alastor's eye with a scream of rage. "Radio's fucking dead!"

"You've got quite the fight in you, don't you?" Alastor's laughter echoed through the room as he jolted back from Vox's retaliatory strike.

With a casual flick of his hand, he wiped the crimson blood from his cheek, strands of his hair falling over the new scar that marred his face. "But I'm afraid spirit won't be enough to save your worthless life."

Alastor leaned down, his muscles tensing as his fist crashed into Vox's broken eye with a crack, causing the screen to fracture further. Lifting Vox by his collar, Alastor brought him closer to his face with a snarl.

"Radio killed the video star."

Alastor's tendrils coiled like vipers ready to strike, but before he could unleash them, a sudden crash of debris behind him jolted his attention. With a swift twist of his head, he peered over his shoulder.

Against the backdrop of the dark brick wall loomed a disheveled figure, her rosy cheeks and tousled hair framing her big, doll-like eyes. The shimmering of a necklace with a delicate rose pendant around her neck caught his attention, and in an instant, he recognized you.

Your hand pressed firmly against the wall for balance, while his shadow, William, enveloped your waist, supporting your weight. The fabric of your dress clung to your drenched skin, torn in parts, with one heel missing from your sprained foot. Streaks of makeup ran down your face, smudged by tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. You sniffled, your face flushed with warmth as a burning pain spread to your throat, choking back every sob that threatened to escape.

"Al…"

Alastor didn't know what to do with himself.

Every muscle in his body tensed, locking him in place as if he were frozen in time. In his shock, Vox slipped from his grip, crashing to the ground in a heap of metallic clangs and crackling wires.

With cautious steps, he stepped forward, testing the waters, metaphorically and literally. To his surprise, there was no barrier, no force pushing him back, and no contract manifesting before him.

"Cher?" he called out, breathless.

The sobbing wail that escaped your lips was answer enough.

Heart pounding in his chest, Alastor rushed forward and caught you in a desperate hug. His arms enveloped your trembling form tightly, as if he could shield you from the world's horrors just by holding you close. You sobbed against him, your nails digging into his shoulders, your body going limp like a puppet whose strings had just been cut. His hand flew up to cradle the back of your head, his touch both tender and urgent, his claws grazing your skin slightly in his desperation.

The smile on his face long dropped. His muscles tensed as he whispered your name over and over again like a mantra, each repetition a plea to whatever higher power might be listening.

For the first time in decades, Alastor felt fear grip his heart in its grimy claws. His eyes remained wide open, unblinking, as if he feared that closing them would make you vanish before his very eyes.

"Mon cœur," you heard the dark timbre in his voice, the faint crackle of radio static lingering in the air. Your husband drew his head back, and you winced at the loss of touch, but he immediately dove back in, pressing his lips against yours in a long overdue kiss. The taste of his metallic blood flooded your mouth, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Sighing against his lips, you tilted your head and pressed yourself further against him and Alastor grunted in response, his clawed hands mapping up the curve of your hips and moving up to your chest, pressing his palm flat against your heart to feel its steady rhythm. It beat for him, raced and throbbed because of him

You trembled beneath his touch, more tears slipping from your eyes, dribbling down your cheeks.

"That’s it, cher," he hushed. "My sweet girl. You’re alright. Everything’s going to be alright."

His hand reached out, cupping both of yours firmly, causing your rings to clink together. His thumb gently traced over the back of your right hand, caressing the golden band.

Alastor paused, his fingertips gliding over the unfamiliar texture of an engraving on the ring, a curious furrow creasing his brow as he moved back in to examine your hands. You hesitantly allowed his inspection, silently noting the subtle twitches on his blank expression.

Despite the tenderness of his touch, Alastor's face remained devoid of his usual smile. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, silently asking for an explanation, and you answered the unspoken question immediately.

"Vox."

With just one word, Alastor immediately understood. A fleeting smile graced his lips as he pressed a final tender kiss to both of your eyelids before his grin returned in full force. he snapped his head back to face Vox, holding you close in his arms, supporting your weight due to your broken ankle. "It seems we have some unfinished business."

"Yeah, we fucking do," a new voice interjected, causing both you and Alastor to whirl around.

Velvette and Valentino made their presence known as they stood stoically by the entrance, their disheveled appearances and visible injuries painting a picture of the struggle that had unfolded. Every bruise, every torn piece of clothing seemed to speak on its own of the relentless assault Alastor had unleashed upon the building. It was clear that they had endured their fair share of the battle.

"Come."

Velvette reached her hand out, and you felt an odd sensation of tugging at your neck. Suddenly, a hot pink collar materialized around you, and before you could react, you were forcefully pulled forward with a sharp yank. The sudden movement caused you to stumble several feet, your injured ankle buckling beneath you with a jolt. A scream ripped from your throat, the intensity of the pain washing your vision with a blaring flash of white.

Valentino immediately grabbed you by the hair, wrenching you up as though you were nothing more than a prize to be claimed. "You want her? Well, we're going to have to make a deal," he taunted.

Something primal gnawed and snarled at Alastor's insides. Even in the brief seconds since you were torn away from him, the ache for your presence already began to consume him, searing through his veins like a wildfire. It cut him deeper than any of the physical wounds he received. He had just gotten you, and now you were being torn away from him once more.

He wanted to scream, to tear at his own flesh in anguish, to rip through the barriers separating him from you until he could hold you close once more.

And if he had to paint the sidewalks of hell with the blood of these vermin to achieve that, then he would stop at nothing to see it through.

"There's not going to be a deal. I doubt anything you can offer would be of any value," Alastor's grin twisted into a snarl, his eyes flashing red. With a swift motion, he slammed his staff against the floor, unleashing a blare of crackling energy and swirling shadows into the air. "I'm going to end your fucking lives."

"Ay, calm down," Valentino snarled, his voice dripping with menace as he spread his wings, casting a shadow over the room. Dipping a hand into his coat pocket, he drew his gun and pressed it tight against your temple, the cold metal sending a shiver down your spine. Sweat beaded on your forehead as the searing burn of the barrel pressed against your skin, a silent threat hanging in the air.

You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt Valentino's thumb run across your cheek, the demon cooing at you as if you were a child. Blinking away the tears, you opened your eyes to find Alastor's figure standing out vividly amidst the chaos, his red suit and hair glowing like fire against the darkness.

Like blood.

Alastor's entire body practically shook with anger, the shadows in the corners of the room writhing and twisting.

Their tainted blood should never dare to soil your skin, nor should the gaze of these wretches ever dare to tarnish your beautiful visage. In his eyes, you were pure and untainted, and above all, you belonged to him.

Only him.

"Now," Valentino chuckled, a twisted smile playing on his lips as he reached out to pet your head with a hand, his fingernails sharp and threatening. "It's really not worth the trouble. So why don't you stop this tantrum, grab your little bitch, and get out? She's not this fucking valuable to us."

"D-D-D-Don't!" Vox's voice crackled from his spot on the floor, his one functional arm trembling as he struggled to rise.

"Oh, shut the fuck up," Velvette scowled, her nails digging into the fabric of her torn dress as she hurled your contract towards Alastor with a vicious flick of her wrist. "Do we have a fucking deal?"

Alastor's hand shot out, snatching the contract mid-air before it could reach the ground. Holding it aloft, he tore it apart with a savage rip, the sound of paper shredding echoing like thunder through the room.

"Deal."

Instantly, the chains restraining you dissolved, and Valentino moved away from you. You felt a gentle tug as Alastor's swirling shadows guided you towards him. His arm enveloped you protectively, pulling you close as if shielding you from any further harm. His wide-eyed gaze remained fixed on Velvette and Valentino, a silent warning in his stance.

"I'll make sure you regret ever crossing us," Alastor declared with a menacing growl, summoning a swirling portal of shadows behind him as he slowly backed away, pulling you along with him. Before departing, he deftly removed your engraved ring from your finger and tossed it in Vox's direction.

"Radio isn't dead," Alastor snarked as the shadowed portals began to envelop you both, their inky tendrils curling around you like a shroud, "but this broadcast is coming to an end."

With that, you and Alastor vanished into the swirling shadows, leaving the three figures standing amidst the aftermath.

The building lay in ruins, reduced to disrepair. Water trickled down from the shattered remnants of the aquarium, its glass now fractured and broken, mingling with the thick dust that hung in the air like a shroud. From top to bottom, no room was left untouched by the devastation wrought on by the Radio Demon.

Velvette stood rigid in the center of the room, her figure shadowed as she bore her intense gaze into Vox. The TV demon scoffed dismissively, his broken screen flickering erratically, casting disjointed shadows across the room.

"I'm killing her," Velvette declared.

"Who?" Vox croaked, doing his best to sit up as Valentino helped him to his feet.

Velvette clenched her teeth, her frustration boiling over as she stepped forward and forcefully slammed her heels down on Vox's legs, sending him slamming back down, the sound echoing in the room. She spat in his fractured screen, her voice dripping with venom.

"I'M FUCKING KILLING HER!"

"Don'tcha worry about a thing, sweetheart!" Mimzy chirped cheerfully, her voice ringing out above the din of the crowded bar. Balancing a huge stack of beer in her arms, she maneuvered skillfully through the maze of tables, dodging patrons and obstacles with ease. The dim lights of the bar reflected off the bottles, casting shimmering patterns across the worn wooden surface, while the faint scent of alcohol lingered in the air, mingling with chatter and laughter.

Arriving at the table, a group of men erupted in hollers and cheers. Mimzy giggled in response, her laughter joining the chorus of noise as she shot a playful wink in their direction. With a bit too much force, she shoved the tray onto the table, causing the overflowing glasses to slosh and liquor to spill onto the tabletop.

"Enjoy!"

With a toss of her hair, she sauntered away, her heels echoing against the wooden floorboards as she made her way towards the entrance. The club was delightfully full tonight, and Mimzy could practically taste the mouthwatering green of money already.

But just as she reached the doorway, a hand grabbed her, yanking her out into the darkness beyond. The blonde's cheery demeanor disappeared in an instant as she found herself shoved up against a nearby wall.

The cold grime and mysterious mold clinging to the brick surface sent a shiver down her spine, the dampness seeping through her clothes and chilling her to the bone. The dim light from the bar seemed to fade into obscurity as the darkness of the alley enveloped her, suffocating her senses. Panic surged within her as she struggled against her assailant.

"Hey! What gives—" Mimzy began, but her words caught in her throat as she realized she was face to face with Velvette. The overlord looked disoriented and disheveled in the dimly lit alleyway, her clothes torn and her hair in disarray. Her eyes, usually sharp and calculating, now held a wild, frenzied glint.

"There you are," Velvette's grip on Mimzy's dress tightened, her nails digging deep into the fabric and piercing skin, sending a sharp twinge of pain through the blonde. "I've been looking for you."

The blonde recoiled as Velvette's claws trailed up her throat, leaving a trail of stinging scratches in their wake. The metallic smell of blood flooded her nose as one of Velvette's nails grazed over her skin, catching on the delicate chain of her necklace and tugging it slightly.

With a trembling voice, Mimzy managed to choke out, "Oh! W-What do you need me for, sugar?"

Velvette's lips curled into a sinister smile, the glint of her sharp teeth shining under the alley lights.

"Oh, just a little chat," she replied, her voice dripping with malice. "Aren't you curious about what's been happening in your absence? Some skeletons in a closet got dug up."

The blonde's eyes widened, her heart pounding in her chest as she realized the gig was up.

"I didn't—!" she started, but her protest was cut short by the sickening thud of Velvette's fist against the wall beside her. Cracks spiderwebbed across the brickwork, the crumbling debris cascading to the ground in a cloud of dust.

"Don't lie to me," Velvette hissed, as she leaned down to the blondes height, meeting her face to face. "You knew who she was. And you helped him."

"I-I didn't know," Mimzy lied straight through her teeth, trembling in her heels. "I swear, Velvette. I didn't know anything about his wife."

"Don't play dumb with me, bitch. You knew full well who she was," the overlord snarled.

With a derisive laugh, she threw her head back and added, "But you couldn't even keep it under wraps! You got fucking ratted out in less than 2 days!"

"No! No, I swear on my life, sugar!" Mimzy pleaded, her voice trembling as she shook her head, her golden curls bouncing around her shoulders. "I was just a stray bullet!"

But Velvette's expression remained cold and unforgiving, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"You fucking liar," she spat, her voice dripping with venom.

A flash of silver caught Mimzy's eye, and she flinched as she saw the dagger in Velvette's hand. The cold metal glinted with a blue glow in the dim light of the alley, its edges sharp and sleek.

It was angelic iron, and the very sight of it sent bile rushing up her throat.

It hurt her eyes to look at the dagger, its presence filling her with a sense of dread she couldn't shake. But despite the fear coursing through her veins, she couldn’t tear her gaze away. She was frozen in place, like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

But then, there was a sudden blur of movement.

"Wait!"

A sharp, searing pain shot through Mimzy, causing her to gasp. The sensation of blood trickling down her skin sent waves of nausea through her, and she dry heaved, struggling to keep herself upright.

Her eyes remained locked on the smeared blood on the steel lodged in her, the sight both horrifying and mesmerizing. It was so revolting, so surreal, that she failed to suppress a shudder of dread as she stared at it, transfixed by the grim reality of her impending fate.

Coldness began to envelop her, seeping into her bones as the darkness closed in around her like a suffocating cloak. Dark spots danced at the edges of her vision as the edges of her consciousness blurred and faded. She felt herself slipping away, consumed by the shadows, as the alleyway swallowed her whole.

Velvette let the body drop, the dull thud echoing in the desolate alleyway. A twisted feeling of satisfaction flooded her veins, coursing through her with a sickening thrill.

The harsh glow of the streetlights cast eerie shadows across her features as she surveyed the aftermath of her actions. With a flick of her head, she turned away from the lifeless form, her cracked heels echoing against the cold pavement as she disappeared into the darkness, leaving behind a trail of crimson steps in her wake.

"And so it begins."

#sorry for the day late pst DD: tumblr didnt autosave my post so i hadta rewrite #sephiewrites #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #hazbin x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel mimzy

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ozzgin · 3 months

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A nice character with a yandere split persona. The Yandere persona was born out of the abandonment of the character by a loved one, maybe mom. Did he kill her just so she could stay? Maybe. Only the Yandere persona knows, the character is oblivious, he just knows his mom left him. But he oddly feels ok about it as though the situation has been reconciled... which is weird to him.

Now he meets and falls in love with yn. She must not leave. It's f around and find out

Btw I love you ❤️❤️❤️ The Yokai series is my fave

Oooh, I’ve been thinking of a context for your idea and I somehow got stuck on a serial killer who is unaware of it most of the time. Since you mentioned abandonment and obsession, my mind wandered to some of the typical habits, such as collecting trophies. I’ve also been wanting to try my hand at writing a serial killer, so hopefully it turns out to your liking. (Sending back the love, always a pleasure to see your comments ❤)

Although let me include a little disclaimer, because I am aware many things in the sphere of true crime are problematic: this in no way glorifies or romanticizes serial killers. Just a reminder that this is a work of fiction and all behaviors displayed are for the sake of an interesting story, not to be admired in real life.

Yandere! Serial Killer x Reader

You're temporarily staying with a kind, quiet man renting out a room in the house he inherited. It's just the two of you, and a locked bedroom he claims to be vacant. Yet as night falls, you hear the whispered arguing of a voice you don't recognize. Is anyone else there?

Content/TW: female reader, mentions of murder, obsessive behavior, horror

You must break the pattern today, or the loop with repeat tomorrow

He stares at the locked drawer of the bureau. The clock ticking in the background fades into an irritating buzz, drumming against his ears at irregular intervals like a swarm of insects. Once again, he cannot remember where the key is. Yet he does not feel compelled to search for it. It cannot be anything of significance, he tells himself. Forgotten knick-knacks, perhaps. Despite the apparent lack of curiosity, he is drawn here every morning. He wakes up, carefully folds the sheets, and goes to sit in the office. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Until, at last, the noon hour strikes, and the hallways are flooded with ghastly chimes.

Lately, however, other sounds have taken over the usual silence that envelops the house. The main door rattles faintly before opening with a creak.

“They were out of our bread rolls. I got a baguette instead.”

It’s you.

He stands up, as if startled from deep slumber, and hurries downstairs to greet you. He takes the grocery bags from your hands, flashing a smile of gratitude. Somehow, the idea of another person living here is still foreign to him. He’s gotten so used to the solitude, the quietness of the house. Time stands still when there’s no one else to remind you of it.

You glance up at the tall man, noticing his slight frown.

“Another brain fog?” You ask, worried.

“Don’t mind me. It’s a morning routine at this point”, he jokes. “More importantly, what would you like for breakfast?”

He always cooks for both of you. Initially, you were rather hesitant to go for his offer. You’d been looking for temporary accommodation and stumbled upon his advertisement. A cozy, vintage house the man had inherited from his lamentably departed mother, with one too many spare rooms. He had no need for all the space, he said in his description. You paid him a visit and were taken aback by his appearance. A massive, muscular frame that did not fit the rest of his mannerisms and features. He was soft-spoken, polite, and terribly shy. His eyes reflected the kind of gloom to be expected from anyone in his situation.

A sweet, gentle soul looking for company. On top of that, if you are to be technical, he’s a housemate difficult to compete against. Well-kept, mannered, organized, and thoughtful. He keeps to himself. You’d learned, soon after moving in, that he suffers from the occasional brain fog and memory loss. He goes for walks at odd hours to clear his mind. Enjoys reading in his office, although you’ve caught him just staring into space many times. Terribly inconvenient for the poor lad, you imagine.

The house itself is also not a bad deal by any means. Old fashioned, littered with trinkets and paintings. “My mother liked to collect many things��, he’d told you. It certainly has personality, to put it mildly. Some belongings are more bizarre than others: portraits of faceless people, with features smudged or distorted, doll heads in pompous, feathered collars hanging in clusters across the musty walls. Peculiar, but manageable.

Only at night does it become unsettling.

“Going for a walk?”

You’re curled in one of the armchairs, flipping through a magazine you found. It’s been hours since your little breakfast together and now the sun is beginning to set. The man is buttoning up his coat, standing in the doorframe and gazing at you with a smile.

“Yeah. I’m starting to detach a little. Maybe some fresh air will help.”

It’s nice, he thinks, having you here. He didn’t expect much when he ventured to rent out a room. He just wanted to hear the murmur of life again. Ever since his mother has passed…when did it happen, again? Better yet, how did it happen? Christ, he can’t remember. The last memory he has of her is not something to cherish. She was angrily shoving him out of the way, visibly annoyed by his cries and pleading. “Please don’t leave me”, he kept croaking in a pathetic tone, dragging his knees like a beggar. Then it’s all black. Black, like the cover they kept over her body at the morgue, to hide the mutilated remains. Black, like the tie he struggled to knot before her funeral. At that time, the sheets of her bed were still scattered, as if she never left. He could almost see her there, reflected onto the mirror’s surface – rather dirty as a matter of fact, he should wipe it soon – sitting melancholically on the edge of the mattress.

To think he’d be hearing footsteps again. A soothing voice. Even if it’s temporary, your presence in the house has been a blessing. Even if you must leave eventually. His lips purse involuntarily.

You hear the door close, followed by the key twisting inside the lock. You’re alone now.

With haste, you get up and sprint upstairs. You pull out a hairpin from your pocket and discreetly insert it in the cylinder. Today you find out if the spare bedroom truly is as vacant as your housemate claims.

When you first viewed the house, he mentioned that only this room will remain locked. It was his mother’s and he’d rather not look at it, he said. Let it gather dust, for all he cares.

Only at night, you’ve been hearing someone else’s voice. It didn’t happen immediately. Weeks after you’d moved in, you woke up thirsty and tiptoed on your way to the kitchen for a glass of water. On your return, you were surprised to see dim light coming from underneath the door of the forbidden bedroom. Visitors of your housemate? You hurried back into your bed, not wanting to intrude. But the following night you jolted up from the same mumbled voice. Strange that he’d invite someone over this late - twice in a row! - without saying a word to you. Even more, they were arguing like this. Curiosity got the better of you, so you snuck out and placed your cupped ear against the wall.

“No, no, no, no. I’m telling you, it’s different. She’s different from the others.” A deep, ragged voice retorted angrily.

Suddenly, there was a loud thud, a fist smashing against something, then glass shattering over exasperated, shouted curses. You ran back to your room, baffled. Who on Earth was there? You could feel your heart throbbing inside your chest.

Morning couldn’t come quick enough. You marched over to your housemate, demanding to know who this stranger was. He stared at you, wide eyed and incredulous. “There’s no one else here, dear. Just you and me.” Nonsense. You knew what you heard. You’d been wide awake! He gently placed the back of his hand against your forehead. “Could it be that you’re sick? Weather has been dreadful lately.” You scanned his face with hitched breath. Was he mocking you? Yet his features betrayed no such intent. The man seemed genuinely worried; face twisted in a caring frown.

Then what? A ghost? An intruder that fancied having a chat in a dead woman’s bedroom?

You fiddle with the pin until you hear the click. Finally. Surely whoever has been frequenting the place must’ve left some clues behind. You carefully open the door and peek inside. A broken mirror and some furniture covered in webs. There’s a lingering rusty smell that tickles your nostrils, and soon enough you find the source. Next to the old bed lays a cloth splattered red. On top of it, a leather folder from which scalpels and other surgical tools fell out haphazardly. Blood? Your mouth curls in disgust. You crouch to the floor to inspect the odd items and notice a jar glistening from underneath the bed. You pull it towards you and give it a rattle. Nothing heavy. You lift the jar into the light for a better look and gasp.

Fingernails.

“Oh, I forgot to put those away.”

It’s the same deep voice you’ve been hearing at night. Your stomach drops and you turn, slowly, towards the entrance. Horror is swiftly replaced by confusion once you realize it’s none other than your housemate.

“Y-you’re back from your walk?” You blurt out.

“Walk?” He inquires. “Ah, that’s what he told you.” He steps towards you and lowers himself to your level with a grin.

“Have you come to say hello?” He points towards the tall, shattered mirror. “This is (Y/N), mother. See, I told you she’s stunning. You didn’t believe me.”

He ruffles your hair with a boldness completely unfamiliar.

Nausea overwhelms you and your ears ring in panic. Whatever is happening right now is beyond your understanding.

“I’d like to go to my room now.”

“I recognize that speech all too well. You want to run away.”

Within seconds, he grabs one of the scalpels and points it towards your throat, poking your skin with its cold tip.

“Now, don’t embarrass me in front of her like that. Do you know how hard it is to convince this bitch of anything? I told her you’re not like them, (Y/N). Don’t prove me wrong.”

“Them?” You whisper, lungs devoid of air.

“Come, let’s put this with the others first.” He pockets the scalpel and lifts you up by the hand, tenderly kissing your fingers in the process. “Then we can talk.”

You follow him into the office, and he unlocks one of the desk drawers. Against your better judgment, you stretch over his shoulder and glance inside. ID cards of various women, jewelry, lipsticks. Teeth. Fingernails.

You want to cry.

He nonchalantly dumps the contents of the jar into the drawer and slams it back shut, then throws himself in the chair and pats his thigh, eyeing you. With a sob, you clumsily climb onto his lap.

“Back to our matters. What were you planning on doing?”

“I just wanted to lay in bed.”

He takes out the scalpel and draws a line across your cheek. It stings.

“Don’t lie, (Y/N). You have nothing to gain from being naughty with me.” He coos, placing a kiss over the fresh wound.

“I wanted to run away.” You confess, petrified.

“Good. Do you now understand what happens if you try to run away?”

You briefly look at the drawer and nod.

“I knew you would. You’re so smart.” He strokes your hair fondly. “Not an easy decision to make, mind you. I love you more than anything in this world. Who’d enjoy killing their one and only?”

The man ponders his next words with a hum.

“Don’t count on getting away while he’s awake, either.” He taps his temple and chuckles. “He has no idea and won’t stop you, but I can easily find you again.”

The eggs sizzle in the pan as you stare at your plate, background sounds melting into shapeless static. After a couple more minutes, the man turns off the stove and places the food on the table with a cheerful whistle.

“Eat up!” He encourages you.

You hold onto your fork with faintly trembling hands.

“This might be the last breakfast I cook for you, after all. You’re leaving tomorrow, aren’t you?” His last sentence trails off and he smiles, dejected.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could…stay here instead.”

He gazes at you in disbelief.

“Truly? I-…That’d be fantastic.” He laughs awkwardly and scratches the back of his head, a deep red blush spreading over his cheeks. “Do excuse my rudeness. To be honest with you, I’ve grown quite fond of our arrangement. I really do like having you here.”

You return the smile without responding.

“Most exciting news. I’ll get the documents from the office after we eat, so we can draft a new lease.”

“That’d be lovely”, you answer curtly.

“Say, have you by any chance stumbled upon a small key around the house? I wanted to finally unlock the drawer upstairs, but I can’t remember where I could’ve left it.”

The knot in your stomach tightens.

“Not at all.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’m sure it’s nothing important, anyways. Old memorabilia, most likely.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic #yandere imagines #yandere imagine #yandere scenarios #yandere male #yandere killer #yandere male x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere serial killer #yandere original character #horror #split personality #tw yandere

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jazjelspen · 3 months

Text

my angel baby [part 2]

(alastor w/ angel daughter reader)

[caution: NOT PROOFREAD oh and angst hehe]

(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. )

[tags: @luujjvi @c-lunette @mokisano @ghostdoodlen @wildfire153 @anonymousewrites @bewitchedbymadness @thisbitchreallyneedssleep @22carolina08 @original-person]

[remember if you want to keep in touch with a particular series I write, let me know in comments or messages you want to be tagged! you will only be tagged once unless specified that you want to be tagged till the end of a particular series!]

(also once again, apologies if alastor’s last name isn’t actually altruist qwq it’ll stick till the end of this fic but I’ll try not to mention it as much)

For the first time in years, you feared being in heaven.

Not that you felt unsafe, just that you felt incredibly uncomfortable seeing your serial killer dad who's now a demon be invited to be in the place where light and goodness is it's main foundation.. even reassuring yourself that it was temporary didn't calm you down when you were flying away from him. For your own sake you even avoided where the welcoming was happening.

Ahh but.. it also didn't help that he was following you around after the show without you knowing.

After the angels had performed their song to welcome in the princess of hell, her apparent partner, and-- him.. everyone sort of went their separate ways and the visitors from below started to relax in their new yet temporary places of stay. You felt a bit of relief when you assumed Alastor would also be setting himself in to relax as well.

During heaven's performance you decided to take a breather at a local coffee shop, one where you thankfully always had a spot there where you could hide away from the huge windows of the cafe.

Although right after that, unbeknownst to you at the time, Alastor was looking for you, but obviously pretended as if he was looking for a good bite to eat.. unfortunately for him he had to behave and he couldn't eat a living walking thing until after they came back home.

Oh how bummed out he was.

You were in a far corner inside the shop, as mentioned before anyone that was able to look in through the windows wouldn't be able to see you since you were out of view. Drinking your favorite beverage that the shop offered and eating a filling snack to relax your body and mind. Safe to say you were now more in touch with your feelings and weren't overly panicked as you once were.

'Why is he here.. is he an advisor to the princess? a companion?.. some kind of servant?.. she's really young though, perhaps she's ward to him or something.. but she has her.. dad.. and I'm sure he must be alive still.. ' You thought, different theories and ideas passing by in and out your head trying to make sense of the situation.

'perhaps.. he's here to see me?..' you hoped, then scolded yourself right after,

'nono.. I can't be wanting that.. sure he raised you but he's a monster. he killed you, _____. get a grip..' you sighed deeply while massaging your temples in frustration 'even if he seemed to not.. have meant to do that. he tried to kill someone else anyway, that poor man could've died instead of you.' you tried to reason with yourself, coming to a single conclusion in the end.

Eyes glued to your drink. staring at it with intensity.

"I regret nothing." you claimed to yourself in a low mumble, not enough for anyone close to hear.

Ahh.. but you did miss him very much.. the version of him that you grew up with at least.

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You were in your warm and humble home with your father. It was a fairly cold night with rain dropping onto the roof of your home yet the warmth of the house seemed to make the cold seem almost cozy to you.

Your small footsteps could be heard running around the house, as your little seven year old self ran around you seemed to be giggling uncontrollably with a peculiar circular item in your hand.

"No running in the house _____, remember what I told you." Alastor exclaimed in slight irritation as he could hear you from afar while he was cleaning up the table from the dinner you two just had, he started slightly missing the times when you didn't know how to walk and when you simply just blabbered baby nonsense.. he definitely doesn't miss the sleepless nights of baby crying though.

You huffed and puffed as you then plopped the item on the sofa, it was a disk, a record. You then climbed yourself up and once your little body landed on the cushions you then picked yourself up once more to then grab the disk and turn to the small table right beside the sofa where a large phonograph rested on.

"Papa!" you exclaimed, "Papa! Music music!.." you pleaded, your little voice begging to once again turn on the music playing machine.

Alastor faintly chuckled at your little demands, amusing how such a small thing dares to command but nonetheless he found it silly at how you tried. "Yes yes my dear, I'll be right there." He then set the last few dirty dishes away to be cleaned soon since he couldn't say no to listening to some tunes before bed.

You smiled brightly as your little feet playfully tapped on the cushions, almost jumping. Noticing your developing excitement Alastor hurried over to you.

"Ah-ah-ahh, no jumping on the sofa my dear. I'm excited as well but I can't have you break your little head open, that'd be no fun at all!" Well.. that and he didn't wanna ruin his cushions, but nonetheless he cared for your wellbeing the most even if he wasn't fond of admitting it.

His hands gently took the disk from your hands, carefully setting the disk on the phonograph to have it play your favorite tunes. Once you two heard the amazing first few notes of jazz was when Alastor settled down beside you on the sofa and you started clapping in delight.

Alastor looked at you almost fondly, letting out a small huff of delight at your reactions. Your innocence seemed to be something that contained him from wanting to continue his murder spree, although his bloodlust always wins in the end, he seems to always willingly pause his life for you.

Plus, he loves jazz just as much as you do.. why would he miss out on this?

Your fit of giggles dwindled down but didn't stop, in a sudden burst of energy you jumped off the sofa and then started dancing similarly yet obviously a bit more goofy to how you've seen couples and single dancers dance in the nights of Mardi Gras or just parties your father took you when he would be invited. Your little dance moves seemed to be fiddled with confidence yet they were so off from what you were trying to attempt, nonetheless you were happy, and that's what Alastor secretly liked to see.

"Dance with me papa dance with me!" you pleaded again, your smaller hands grabbing his larger one and tugging at it, trying to get him to stand up.

"_____ darling no tugging, besides I just sat down my dear and I'm exhausted." He sighed, his constant smile always present yet he was visibly a bit tired from the day he had.

But oh how you persisted, and how darn adorable you were as a kid. "But papaaa!.. pretty please! I wanna dance how you and that singing lady did the last time we went on those big loud places!"

"Parties, dear." he corrected you, but let out a long sigh and got up. Because no matter how tired he was or how annoyed he seemed to be he didn't mind keeping you happy.

So that's what he did, he danced with you. Swinging you, twirling you around to the melody and the beat, your cheers of glee and uncontrollable laughter motived him to keep up with your excitement. Not only that but your smile, genuine and pure, it was what he needed to get himself to match your energy. Jazz music was what always connected you two and it always brought you together no matter what.

At the end of the song Alastor ended it by gently throwing you up in the air and catching you, letting you get your last giggles out. You both laughed together, your bond ever growing stronger. You truly did tame this bloodthirsty killer without even trying or knowing, of course you were too young to know.

Once the giggle frenzy ended you both finished your dancing with a long sigh, the phonograph ending it's segment. You then suddenly yawned and rested your head in the crook of his neck over his shoulder, snuggling for warmth and for a sudden need to sleep.

"Seems like my little fawn needs sleep now, almost past your bedtime young lady." Normally he'd scold you a bit more strictly as he usually did, but seeing as how you were basically ready to fall into a pile of dreams he just felt no need to do that.

"Sorries papa.. I forgot.." your little words muffled by your face hidden in his neck.

Alastor was never one for being touched, let alone hugged or snuggled. Oh but he had no right to complain, he's had you this close since you were a baby.. to him this just felt normal now.

Of course no one but you could be this close to him, you're his little girl after all.

"No need to worry, my dear." He stopped in front of your bedroom, carefully opening the door with a creak following after. With careful footsteps he walked towards your bed, pulling the blanket away to then gently place you on your cozy sheets with care.

Alastor gently moved any misplaced hairs away from your face as he then pulled your soft and warm blanket up to your neck. Your sleeping face reassuring him.

"Sweet dreams sweetheart." His usual smile softening a bit more before backing away and slowly heading towards the door of your room, lingering for a few extra seconds to take one last look at you before slowly closing the door and heading off to bed himself.

After the click of the door closing can be heard, you mumbled "Goodnight papa.." with a smile, even if in the end Alastor didn't get to hear it.

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You missed him, dearly.

A weight fell on your chest, your eyes begging to form tears. You missed when you had that childhood innocence, when you didn't know what he was capable of, when he was nothing but a saint to you.

It still hurt after all these years, you thought he was a good man.. a bit strict, blunt, a bit too true to himself and definitely peculiar but.. the Alastor that raised you would never do that. Until you were obviously proven otherwise.

Oh but I guess you were too into your reminiscing that you didn't notice the background gasps and small shrieks of surprise and fear, and you didn't yet feel the eventual stares and eerie presence right in front of you.

"What don't you regret, my dear?"

You choked on your drink in surprise almost spitting it out,

that fucking radio voice again.

For heaven's sake how did he find you?? He couldn't have seen you through the windows. Did he follow you??.. did you just not notice.. Oh geez maybe getting used to having your guard down during all your years in heaven definitely didn't help with this situation.

You continued coughing on your drink, even punching your chest a bit to get that last good cough out. The radio demon pulled the chair in front of you to sit across from you, not waiting to ask permission.

To him he didn't need to, he's your father after all.

Once you calmed down you immediately avoided eye contact, only giving him a once second glance to confirm it was him in hopes your ears were playing a trick on you-- they weren't.

"How.. how'd you find me.." you mumbled in slight fear.

"Oh how would I not! Sweetheart I'm your father of course, as your father I must have those parental instincts.. I always know where you are!" he exclaimed, seemingly proud of this.

"I'm guessing those 'parental instincts' didn't kick in when you stabbed me, huh." you spat with attitude, unafraid to be rude to him with so much sin he's committed.

A sharp static sound came from him, as if in slight shock at the disrespect and comeback you gave. "Watch the attitude young lady, you're still an Altruist you know."

You scoffed, hating at how indifferent you felt about your last name.

"Not by blood though.."

"I raised you, don't forget that." he spat back, starting to get irritated.

"And because of that I owe you?"

"Yes, yes indeed! Smart girl you are."

You scoffed at his response, finally getting the guts to look at him in the face. His appearance frightened you, disgusted you even.

Is this truly the man that raised you?

"As a matter of fact, I actually don't." you crossed your arms in annoyance and a huff. Your eyes couldn't help but to slowly drift to off to the people behind him and you see fellow angels you know continue to stare in awe or fear, of course at Alastor. With all eyes on you and mostly him it made you feel a little embarrassed. You cowered down a bit and your wings went over your head and shoulders a bit as if to hide you behind a 'curtain' of sorts.

Alastor obviously noticed this, but could care less about the stares.

You sighed, "Look, Alasto--"

"I think you mean to call me 'father'." he interrupted as he obviously seemed a bit sassy about it. "Even 'dad' is just simply fine and dandy with me!"

"No, I can't," you frowned, wishing you could "I won't. Not after what you did to me, to that man that night, and to every other poor soul you hurt."

Your face slowly scrunched up in disgust "You don't deserve my forgiveness, my mercy."

In embarrassment and feeling tears want to shed you grabbed your drink and got up to walk out, before you could get past Alastor though he grabbed your wrist harshly.

"Uh-- hey.. let go--"

"I didn't mean to do what I did, my dove." His voice turned into a weird version of gentle, almost uncharacteristically gentle. "I never intended to take your life away."

He sounded genuine.

Could he?.. Would he?..

Maybe, just maybe--

"No." you spat, "Maybe you didn't mean to hurt me, but you definitely meant to hurt others. That's something I can't forgive and I'm sure your victims wouldn't neither." you glared at him, setting your foot down. "I refuse to call you my father, not until I know that you repent for your sins but knowing you I highly doubt that." You snatched your wrist away and for a slight second you stopped caring about what others thought when they'd see this "Besides, you killed me two weeks after I turned eighteen.. don't even include the years that passed since the 30s and present time so clearly you can't control me anymore old man."

But Alastor wouldn't go down that fast nor easily.

His sharp smile widened, you felt immense dread.

"Oh little one, no matter how far you are or how much you try to disown me you are forever connected to me. I made you who you are and you can try to run and fly off however long you want but in the end you're tied to me whether you like it or not. Even in death."

He seemed deathly serious with his statements so much so that you could've sworn you could see his shadow giggling and smirking in a way that seemed even worse and more than evil.

Your breath quietly hitched in fear in noticing this to the point where it even forced you to take a step back. He let out a sinister chuckle before you couldn't help but speed out of the shop and flew out.

You couldn't handle him, he was shameless when showing this side of him.. how could he be this shameless and normal?? How could he act like this and be proud about it? He killed people and doesn't regret it, you being the only exception just didn't feel right and it wasn't fair!

Not to you.

He may have been able to silently control you and vaguely manipulate you to believe he was anything but a bad person back when you were alive and young but now your eyes are wide open and so is your heart.

You have such a bad feeling about this whole thing, he was up to no good he just couldn't be-- he had to be using the princess as an excuse to do something shitty.

Good thing you had plenty of connections, if you just played your cards right...

Hey.. wasn't there something about a court meeting happening soon?

On the other hand Alastor stayed sitting there still chucking devilishly, his intentions and true feelings smeared and unclear.

With a snap of his fingers a cup of black coffee appeared and he began drinking it with a sense of casual glee and eyes closed in delight. Until he felt eyes on him, two nearby to be exact. He opened one eye to look at the angels staring at him and they both seemed like more biblically accurate angels, both having one eye and all. The radio demon shot them an evil grin.

"Oh adolescents these days, rebellious aren't they." He cackled before going back to drinking his coffee, the angels creeped out by his interaction soon scurried away from him.

The fear. He enjoyed it, just not really from you.

(thank you all who asked for part 2!! of course I had to deliver since you all really wanted it and honestly I love adding flashbacks to memories Alastor and the reader had when they were alive, makes their ending on earth just that more painful (as if it wasn't clear I love angst). Honestly I don't mind making more parts for this! If the demand is consistent and you guys still want to keep up with it I have a few ideas to keep this going! Once again thank you so much for reading!! Now I must finish writing for other stories lolllll!)

(p.s: i highly recommend listening to any mitski song while reading this I think it fits well especially with the flashback scene hehe)

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ultimate-chickennougat · 2 months

Text

| Your Salaryman Husband | (Vol 3)

Vol 1 Vol 2 (not required) Vol 4 Vol 5 Vol 6 Vol 7 Vol 8 Vol 9

Salaryman!Kento x Housewife!Reader;

When Nanami works at home...

Word Count: 1.2k

CW: SFW, domestic fluff, fem!Reader, light teasing, mentions curses

A/n: Domestic life is calling (as per usual)! Maybe I'll try writing in the mornings...

Three months.

It had been three months since your marriage to Mr. Kento Nanami, the ex-Jujutsu Sorcerer, current salaryman, and the love of your life.

And it was just last week your husband made a rather interesting decision, something that you were very happy about. At first, that is.

Nanami, a senior manager at an investment firm, already conducted the majority of his work online. Many people went on calls with their advisors, and lots of paperwork could be handled digitally. That was all good in his eyes, cutting down on paper and increasing work efficiency. He could get home quicker with less things to throw in his bag, which at that time of day was the second most prevalent thought on his mind, aside from you of course.

It was for those reasons, that his company started to encourage working at home part time, which included a one week trial period. Upkeep on a physical property was expensive, having to hire janitorial staff and keep snacks and coffee in the break room.

The first three days were to be as usual, going to work, and the other two would be out of the office, simple enough. As much as he loved being at home, training new employees was best done in person, and many clients still preferred meeting face to face. Hence, Nanami considered this to be a temporary situation.

And so the two of you embarked on your latest project, creating some form of a home office. A temporary work area, furnished with a simple desk in a well lit room, away from the noise of your actions that he didn’t want to disturb. Thankfully your house had extra rooms.

Nanami set himself up in the first floor guest bedroom. It had large floor to ceiling windows, and simple white and beige decor. He could put his desk near the window, and have a nice background of the garden you kept beautiful and thriving - something he didn’t get to appreciate all the time at work.

You were ecstatic all through the week since receiving the news, having two more days with your husband at home. Nanami was never a bother, and being the in the guest bedroom most of the time, he wouldn’t be interfering with your plans. Days one through three of office going had you almost wishing for time to speed up, for the first time in your marriage. The days you loved the most, were the ones where you could spend all your time with him, even if he was working, you assumed.

Finally, your dream four days in a row of Nanami began, it was almost like the weekend - just with work still occuring. The perfect time to show off your domestic skills.

Though you saw him all the time on the weekends, he wasn’t working then, and didn’t require quite as much energy. He already looked tired, something you hadn’t noticed before when he came home refreshed seeing your face. So you, as his dutiful wife, decided to make him something special to eat.

A fresh salad was going to be prepared using produce from the small vegetable garden you had started cultivating, but that marked the first of your problems. Nanami’s desk was right in the front of the window… in front of the garden.

You tied your hair up, and threw a light jacket before strolling out the door that morning. Nanami was already working, you could hear his busy typing and the rifling of papers on his desk as you walked by. He gave you a smile before you left, refilling his cup of coffee in the kitchen. Your bag was held tightly in your hands as you walked off to the grocery store and shortly returned with a bounty of items.

Food was cooked, and you and Nanami ate comfortably. He informed you of his day so far, and you did of yours before he left again, lunch break being over.

You missed welcoming him home. If there was one thing you had gotten used to most, it was the joy that giving him a hug and helping him with his things Monday through Friday gave that you couldn’t stand not having. Dinner, which was usually special after being apart, was the same as lunch. Mundane things were mentioned, most events already covered hours ago. No great office scandals to report, there wasn’t an important printer to jam at home, or a lunch to steal from the break room fridge.

The next day came quickly, and maybe it was lucky that it was the last. Tomorrow would be Saturday, and his work would be over. It was almost a hindrance.

As Nanami was being perfectly considerate, never having the volume up too high and keeping out of your workspace, you tried to do the same. The only problem then, was that it was cleaning day, for all the rarely used peripheral rooms of the house, including the first floor guest bedroom and surrounding areas.

The thought of interrupting your husband’s important work call was frightening enough as you pondered it in your mind, holding the vacuum as you rested against the door of the guest bedroom, having finished with the living room. You could hear him talking, his voice had a trace of agitation as he spoke through his computer, a difference intensified by the cheery voice.

“Goodbye,” Nanami spoke quickly, shutting his laptop and standing up out of his chair, as you continued to listen. It was a few minutes after 5:00 PM, and Nanami was done with work. You quickly ran away to store the vacuum, before you two could eat dinner, which you finished early.

“So how was it?” You asked, both of you seated with food on your plates. “It has it’s benefits, I see that now,” he responded, taking a bite. “First of all, I get to eat lunch here with you instead,” you smiled at his comment, knowing how much he enjoyed your cooking either way. “Then again, you seem more stressed than usual,” you swirled your spoon around the dish a few times, avoiding his gaze. “I like having you around more,” a truthful statement. “If I’m causing you any complication with your work, you should tell me, Y/n. Even if it’s just for a couple days.” he stated, putting his hand on top of yours. “I could hear you by my door, you know,” You opened your mouth, but were quickly interrupted. “Don’t even try to deny it, I am - was a Jujutsu Sorcerer,” the two of you let out laughs far better than the ones from yesterday. “Even a low grade curse is more stealthy, though I doubt one could cook as well… among other things…” He muttered, taking a drink of water.

“I don’t think I’ll be continuing this.” Nanami smirked watching your eyes light up. “The trainees were in sweatpants behind the screen,” you nodded, listening intently. “Anyways, we don’t have very soundproof rooms, now do we,” he added, “I’m sure it would make your work much easier.”

“I’ll still miss you, my darling,” your frown came back. He moved your hand so he could hold it properly, lacing his fingers between yours. “We’ve still got all weekend, right?”

#nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #kento nanami #kento x reader #kento nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #kento #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami #jjk x reader

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goldessia · 10 days

Text

RUINED REPUTATION — k. bkg x assistant reader

sum. katsuki bakugo is the #1 professional hero. because of this, he built an agency, and wound up hiring an assistant to help him with publicity and to do majority of his paperwork for him... something he didn’t expect was for that assistant to be so damn attractive.

warnings. injury, intoxication, makeouts, smut!mdni (in future chapters!)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 (wip)

a/n. haii! thanks for tuning in for the second chapter :) hope you like this so far! not proofread — let me know if there’s any mistakes!

tag list: @lovra974 , @gold24fish, @bkgirl, @bigsimpo343 , @missyaess

“i.. i didn’t know where else to go.”

…

here he was, dynamight himself, standing in-front of my front door with blood pooling his shirt.

i sputter. what do i even say in this situation? my boss was at my front door, looking intoxicated and like he was near to death.

“sir?” i say in nearly a whisper, “what.. what are you doing here?”

he groaned, and i couldn’t tell if it was from pain or not. “stop.. stop calling me that.” he huffs, clutching the doorframe harder, the wood sizzling.

“sorry—“ i catch myself, “um, dynamight.”

“don’t call me that shit either.” he stares me in the eye as he says, “just.. just call me katsuki. ‘don’t care.”

i meekly nod. we’re on a first name basis now?

not wanting my doorframe to burn off, i take his hand off my doorframe and sling his arm around my shoulders. when he leans his weight onto me, i nearly collapse but manage to keep myself composed.

to think we were just talking about him merely a few hours ago, and now he’s here, as if we summoned him like some sort of demon.

.. well, demon isn’t too far off.

i shut the door behind me, katsuki’s feet stumbling as i try to lead him towards the bathroom where i kept my medical aid.

i guess my year trying to be a nurse is paying off before i switched majors, as i still have the supplies and knowledge i gained from it.

“what the hell happened?” i ask, voice low as to not wake my un-suspecting roommate.

“ts’ guy at a bar, nggh!” he hisses as we drop a step, his hand unintentionally pushing farther into his wound. i mutter an apology.

he’s breathing heavily, like he’s gasping for air. i can feel his biceps clench with every walk we take, his sharp exhale at every step he as to walk on his left-injured side.

clearing my throat, i prompt, “guy at a bar?”

“had a.. a fuckin mouth onim’.” he says heavily, “put that pussy in his place.”

if dynamight is this bad.. i wonder how the guy he was fighting was looking like right now.

“as your assistant.. fuck you for causing another scene.” i say, kicking open the bathroom door, “as your temporary.. friend, good for you.”

i cringe at the word friend. friend seems weird — off.

“good for me, my ass.” he hisses as i place him against the counter, pushing his torso to tell him to sit.

he does.

the reality of the situations continues to dawn on me; my boss is in my house, in my proximity that i live in everyday. i shower in this very bathroom. it felt.. weird.

i clear my throat, trying to ignore the butterflies of anxiousness in my stomach.

“katsuki,” i test, the name unfamiliar on my tongue, “take off your shirt.” from my peripheral vision, i can see him smirk. i send a look his way, face flushing in embarrassment.

“not like.. like that.” i stutter, “‘just take off your damn shirt.”

he stares at me, blinks, then tuts his tongue and says—“yes, ma’am.”—weak, shaken hands gripping the end of his shirt and pulling it over his head in one clean move.

it both irritates me and confuses me how simply he had done it.

he drops it in the floor, too weak to care where he put it—conveniently on my brand new white bathmat.

i try to ignore how it irritates me.

“i’ll buy you.. a new one.” he breathes, falling back against the marble wall, touching a hand to the wound on his stomach and hissing a breath through his teeth.

i rummage through the drawer of supplies, purposefully avoiding looking his way out of respect — and for my own sanity.

luckily, sutures was the unit we last worked on before i switched majors, meaning the information was still fairly fresh in my mind.

taking a step closer to the hero, i smell a waft of alcohol seep off of his skin. whiskey, no doubt.

i clear my throat. “i didn’t peg you for a whiskey guy.” i say, hoping to clear some of the overwhelming awkwardness.

he grimaces when i touch an alcohol pad around the wound, cleaning the dried blood surrounding the cut.

“i’m any typa’ guy on the right occasion.” he gives a toothy grin as he says this, abs flexing from my touch.

i blink. finally meeting his eyes, i realize just how close our bodies were, my hands on his torso, standing between his legs as he sits on the counter.

i knew he was supposed to be fit considering his work involved constantly pushing his body to the brink, but man.

he was toned, abs chiseled, biceps molded and flexing with every touch to his wound. his body resembled that of a god, and even if his body was bruised and broken it still looked perfect.

his eyes are piercing, ruby-bright red paired with a shiny, toothy grin placed between his lips.

“whatcha starin’ at, hm?” he slurs. i can feel the breathe from his lips.

my eyes flick away. i murmur a, “..nothing”, clearing my throat and picking up the needle to suture the wound. "so.. what happened for you to get this wound?"

"you're really beautiful, y'know that?" katsuki breathes, eyes scanning over my face.

"what?" i flush, momentarily freezing.

he chuckles, the scent of alcohol seeping over my face as he breathes out, "everyday, when you show up in those outfits ya got.. drives me insane.."

i am unsure what to do. staring into katsuki's eyes, i can see he's totally out of it; he doesn't mean any of this, it's just the alcohol talking!

.. then again, drunk words are sober thoughts.

i scoff, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear as i rip my gaze away. "you're drunk, katsuki," slowly, i am getting used to the name, "you're just talking nonesense."

"i'd never lie t' a pretty girl like you." he says, leaning closer, dangerously close. "anyone ever tell ya you got the most beautiful eyes?"

he reaches a hand toward me, tipping my chin up to look at him, rough and calloused hands scraping against the skin across my jaw.

suddenly, the room is too hot, his touch is too hot and i can feel myself slowly going insane. i find myself wanting more, more, his hands all over--

no! what the hell am i saying, he's drunk, and unlike himself. once he sobers up, he'll realize how stupid his words were.

but oh, his touch was addicting.

"katsuki.." i whisper, feeling his hand slowly move across my collarbone. he leans toward me, his lips resting over my ear, his breath on my skin flowing down my neck. so warm, so soothing.

"y'know, everyday when you show up in them' jeans ya wear.." he inhales, the sound loud in my ear, "makes me so fucking turned on."

i take a deep breath, trying to compose myself, trying to resist; he wouldn't want this, not if he were sober.

i swallow, "katsuki." i say with more certainty.

"mm, say that again." he rasps, kissing just below my ear with such gentleness i am surprised. his lips are hot, wet, his tongue dragging softly over my skin. i feel my body heat up, having to lean against the counter because i was afraid my legs would give out.

resist. resist, all you have to do is push away.

"you.. you wouldn't want this if you were sober." i huff, my face a bright, hot pink of fluster.

a chuckle comes from his chest, "this is all i want when i'm sober. all i can think 'bout, girl."

he pulls away from my neck, and i sigh in relief before opening my eyes to see him right in-front of me. his hand grabs my chin, slanting my head to the side, waiting painfully close as if to wait for me to make the first move.

and i know it's bad. the cliche of bosses sleeping with their assistants always irked me, and considering i was an assistant for dynamight i never considered he would ever sleep with me.

but now... if what he is saying is true, my predictions were nothing but the complete opposite.

and all i can think is: well, fuck, as i crash my lips against his. his mouth is hot, fiery, just as i assumed it to be. his tongue instantly pushes against mine, teeth grazing each other as our lips meet in a hasty battle.

tongues dancing against each other, i am instantly overwhelmed. kissing has never been this sweet, this passionate with my previous partners. a raw, thick naturalness comes between katsuki and i, as if being this close to one another was simply fate.

"this is.. bad--!" i mutter between the breathes we are forced to take, his hand instead finding my hips and pulling me against the counter. i am forced to stand on my tippy-toes as his other hand finds my hair, grasping it as if to hold him to reality.

i understand that much. i feel like if it weren't for his grasp on my skin, i would simply be in a dream instead of this being a reality.

and if this is a dream, i don't think i want to ever wake up.

i bring a hand up to his torso, my hand accidentally grazing over his wound. he groans into my lips, hand clutching my hair even tighter, yet he doesnt stop his assault to dominate my mouth.

i gasp. he's wounded! what am i thinking?!

gathering all the restraint in my body, i push away from him, my back slamming into the wall behind me. i finally take a breath, heavy pants leaving my mouth as i stare at him.

a groan of frustration leaves his lips, his back falling against the wall. it seemed the dopamine had allowed the affect of the wound to become nothing more than a little thorn in his side, but now that it had run out the pain started coming back.

"please.." katsuki whispers, "'feels better when yer kissing me.."

then, there's a knock on the door.

"y/n? is everything alright in there?" mina's voice comes from outside the door.

i look between katsuki and the door, seeing his love-drunk eyes and his current state; anyone with eyes could see he was aroused, not to mention the prominent boner tenting his pants.

"uh—“ i say, "yeah I’m—i'm okay." i say back, clearing my throat, "jus' go back to bed, mina."

"you sure..? you're talking kinda weird, i'm just gonna come in—“

"no!' i panic, before realizing my tone was still suspicious.

"that' the acid freak from school?" katsuki's brows furrow, "what's that brat doin' here?"

"who's that?!" mina calls from outside the door, "wait.. thats—!"

"OKAY!" i yell in frustration, "i'm opening the door!"

i slowly crack open the door, quickly closing it behind me and leaving katsuki in the bathroom.

mina’s eyes are wide. “what. the fuck. is katsuki bakugo doing in our apartment at three in the morning?!”

i sigh, rubbing a hand over my face, “i don’t know. he just.. he just came to the front door, injured.”

“so.. bring him to the hospital!” mina says in a duh tone.

“how do you think it’d look if his assistant was with him at three in the morning?” i say in a whisper-yell, “look, it’s just a simple cut. i can suture it up, and he’ll be fine by the morning.”

she shifts on her feet, uneasy. “okay. but it still feels weird.”

i run a hand over my face, “yeah, i know. it is weird.”

she eyes me, her head slanting ever so slightly. “are you alright? you look all… flustered..” then, her eyes widen as if in a realization, “wait—!”

before she can speak, i cut her off. “okayimleavingnowbye!” i sputter, rushing toward the bathroom and closing it behind me.

i inhale a deep breath, face flushing at the idea of being caught making out with my boss.

“how about you uh.. do me a favour and stitch me up now, huh, princess?” katsuki smiles as he says this.

i turn to him. “don’t call me that.”

“uh-huh.”

#katsuki mha #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #my hero academia #mha x reader #mha

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famemonsterrr · 10 months

Text

Astrology observations part 5. 🪽

- Aquarius placements make someone soo smart ass and witty. Especially mercury 🤌🏻

- Gemini and Sagittarius are the type of people who will be killed by curiosity.

- 11th house placements make someone really popular and well known even if they don’t hang out with everyone. Same goes with the 3rd house placements maybe because of your siblings

- Pisces sun with Capricorn Venus is the most random and sad placement in a natal chart.

- Gemini sun with cancer placements are softies and more sensitive than all gemini placements

Men with all gemini in the personal planets is a red flag. Immature and easily influenced

- people with 4th house Venus will want their home to be comfortable and keep memories from their family house. You will see a lot of childhood pics on the walls or maybe a lot of photo albums.

- i love how passive aggressive a cancer can be. Like they are soooo unserious in serious situations. They will piss you off.

- it might be unpopular but the sister sign is a big fat lie. I have seen couples and friends with the sister signs not lasting long. For example every friendship I have a Virgo was good of 1 year and then became toxic.

- Pisces with 8th house placements or Scorpio placements is the person that will have temporary obsessions. Maybe they will find a song and play it for months and then will find a new song and then again. Maybe it would be a crush,maybe a movie character.

- Gemini and Sagittarius placements love cultures and they know a lot of things about them.(My mom is Gemini sun with Sagittarius moon and when I was young she showed me a lot of cultures. One random day she mention how much interesting Bollywood is and bought some dvds and we watched them together. Also had a lot of Arabic cds and we love to listen together and thanks to her my love for cultures became huge)

- i love LEO a lot but having it in your moon is pain in the ass. DRAMA QUEEN but I applause you for being open and expressive with what u feeling. Vulnerable queen💅🏻 but high maintenance moon. Constant admiration and attention.

- Pisces moon/rising people have dead inside eyes as for the other placements I can’t see it. (I’m Pisces sun and Venus and I don’t have this type of eyes)

- air moons scare me. You don’t know how they feel and what they feel. They are just there breathing and existing and inside their head their tiny version maybe burning the whole place💀 (SpongeBob brain scene if u know u know what I’m saying)

- I kinda feel bad for all my Scorpio moon people. Are you okay? ☹️

- Aquarius and Pisces will say things to get a reaction out of everyone. I have seen myself doing that just because I want to annoy them. I don’t believe half of the things I’m saying but I will do it to get a reaction for fun. Also 7th house placements do that.

- earth suns with Sagittarius placements make them super fun and cool. (My bestie is Capricorn with Sagittarius moon and she is so fun and witty)

- have you seen a Pisces sticking into anything? No me neither these bitches changing everything when they getting bored. It’s a mutable thingy ✨

- libra mercury is the devils advocate. ALWAYS

- never date someone who has the same mars sign as ur moon. Unless u want PAIN💅🏻

- always date someone who has the same Venus as ur sun. They will see you as their ideal type vice versa.

- Virgo women love cleaning and organising and Capricorn men love cleaning and organising. Match in heaven? 😏

- just to know the biggest liars are libra and Leo not Gemini.

- Pisces aren’t competitive at all they even let you win. They just don’t care (that’s me unless I’m playing uno) also really unpopular but Aries aren’t that competitive.

- Aquarius love internet friendships because they can have their space and not meet all the time with people.

- Taurus are more obsessive than a Scorpio. (I had a dude who said to me that he was stalking his ex for 3 years straight. It’s the dedication for me💀)

Speaking of these two. THEY ALWAYS BELONG TOGETHER. both insane and obsessed over each other in relationship. Maybe not the best of friends but everything is possible

- I haven’t see Gemini and Pisces be able to concentrate for more than 10 min.

- this is a personal thing to say but as a Pisces I tend to connect people with colours,smells ect. (One of my besties is white and always imagine her as cotton candy.) also I tend to bring in any conversation my closest people. I just love to mention them anywhere I can. If any Pisces reads this please tell I ain’t the one.

- libra sun with Virgo placements is a person with perfectionism and anxiety.

- fixed dominated individuals are like Patrick’s house. Like big rocks 💀

- cardinal dominated individuals need to learn manange their hidden anger issues

- mutable dominated individuals need to learn to end things they started 😒

Thats all 🪽

Okay guys this one was loooong. Sometimes I have a lot of ideas in my head and I get stimulated so thank u for making it till the end. Appreciate it sooo much 🥰 stay healthy and hydrated 💅🏻

#astrology #astrology notes #astrology observations

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petit-etoile · 5 months

Text

i need you when i'm falling apart

pairing . ⊱ astarion x tav wordcount . ⊱ 3,489 part one . ⊱ here . content warnings . ⊱ mentions of canon compliant temporary character death, spoilers for act iii endgame other tags . ⊱ canon compliant, character study, introspection, p.orn with plot, pwp, vignette, re-establishing relationship, blood drinking, m.issionary position, tav is gender neutral archiveofourown . ⊱ here .

taglist . ⊱ @azrielshadows1nger, @pandimoostuff, @faevi, @microskies, @foreverthemaraudersera, @queenofthespacesquids, @claryvoyantfray, @6doodlaang14, @anne-isnotokay, @itshimbotime, @yeeteth-the-raven, @sessils,@8-opossums, @worryknotdear, @abirdaboxandachippedcup, @ghosts-and-ink, @b4um3pfl4um3, @gunslingerorchid, @hypopxia, @m0ssytrees, @erysione, @odette-attackattack, @catching-fire-in-the-wind, @ashrio20, @wills-mental-illness, @queenofcarrotflowers-s, @kirahlene, @lavenderslemonade, @candyladycry, @chonkercatto, @foxxyhun, @nyxmainex, @angelmawss2, @godoffuckedupcats, @raviolixxx be added . ⊱ here .

summary . ⊱ You have learned to be good. It's time Astarion learns to be forgiven.

During the heart of spring, Astarion spends more time trying to avoid you than he does trying to catch up with you. You’re not even sure why he agreed to travel alongside you — but you do not ask. You press your lips together and push on anyway.

His eyes are cold, and red.

The first night when you set up camp in an abandoned temple, Astarion moves his tent to the other side of the sanctuary as if he cannot bear to be around you. Like you smell. You’ve never cared much for the thoughts or opinions of others, but an inkling of self-doubt creeps back into the depths of your mind. What is the cost of being good if no one treats you kindly?

Every interaction you have with him is like pulling teeth. You want to fight for the tieflings, and Astarion wants to leave them behind. You want to help Wyll find his father, and Astarion snorts. Any good deed you suggest, he finds the need to punish.

When the cambion Raphael reaches and touches your cheek with a promise of opulence and salubrity, you're reminded of a night two hundred years ago. You stumble out of the House of Hope as fast as you can.

You don’t stop walking until daybreak. One night, you explode on Astarion. Your feelings bubble up like bile in your throat.

‘I tried to look for you!’ you snap at him. ‘You can sit here, and you can be bitter, but if I had known, I would have looked for you! But I didn’t know — I didn’t know and it isn’t a crime!’

Astarion’s look of surprise is one thing. He furrows his eyebrows as if properly scandalized, and his frustrated scowl turns to ash when you throw his old cravat at him. You had kept it tied around your neck for two hundred years. You wouldn’t keep it a day longer.

It’s a horrifying mistake to go wandering off in the Underdark by yourself with nothing but a hunting knife at your side, but you never really gave much thought to how you would cope with the gravity of the situation. The fact that you knew Cazador only made matters worse. You stumble past the ruins of the Selûnite Outpost in hopes of running away from your past.

You don’t run into your past in the dark, but you do run into a Spectator.

You’re immediately thrown into darkness and narrowly avoid being petrified, but you have no idea what you’re going to do about this situation besides hide beyond some poor stoned soul. You might should have considered thinking it through. You might should have thought anything through but you didn’t, and that’s the only crime you’ve committed in quite some time. It isn’t a crime is something you’ve begun to repeat to yourself often.

You manage to defend yourself for quite a while in the darkness, but by the end, you’re nursing a nasty wound and bite from the Spectator that will take some time to heal. You’re tucked under some petrified Drow bastard when you hear Karlac’s battle cry and see Gale’s ice spell come from the cliffs. The one that catches you off-guard, the one that will always catch you off-guard, is Astarion flipping through the air with nothing but an elven bow like a prince from your dreams.

Defeating the Spectator is easier with allies, and even the Drow protecting it goes down without much of a fight. You nurse your wounds as best you can, sitting against the cliffs with a bleeding thigh, and try not to frown when Astarion approaches.

‘Give me that,’ he says quietly, snatching one of Halsin’s potions from your fingers. ‘Even after all these years, it seems like you still need protecting.’

You frown and pick at your torn breeches. ‘I know how much you hate that, your honor.’

Astarion looks at you for the first time in several tendays, eyes rimmed with red. ‘I never hated it,’ he says. He dresses your wound like it pains him to see it. ‘I don’t hate it even now.’ Astarion crashes into you full force the night you arrive at the Last Light Inn after you’ve talked to Jaheira but before you’ve talked to anyone else. You’re in your room, and the next thing you know, you’re not alone.

Two hundred years of loneliness are erased at that moment.

His teeth clack painfully against yours as he shoves you into the wall, too uncaring or too pent up to care about the force. He cradles the back of your head to keep you from cracking it on the wall, but other than that, Astarion doesn’t care about hiding the full force of his strength. He kisses you until your mouth is swollen and then he’s tearing your night shirt open with both hands like he can’t get enough.

‘Astarion — ’ you try to say, startled.

But you would be lying if you said you didn’t miss him too. You let Astarion push you around, until you’re both stripped of your clothes and he’s lying flat on his back on the hard wooden floor with you pulled into his lap, his cock pushed deep inside you, and his hands unable to stop wandering the planes of your body. Astarion all but sobs into your mouth as he fucks you. He holds your cheeks in his hands like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen.

When you’re both finished, no one moves from the wood floor despite there being a bed. You lie on your side next to him, memorizing the slope of his nose while you still shiver with little twinges of pleasure still racing up your spine and between your legs. Astarion’s eyes are closed. He’s pretending to sleep, or pretending to be dead so you don’t have to talk about what’s happened, but you’re curious anyway.

You reach across the distance and touch his chest. You know there’s no heartbeat beneath his ribs, but you like to pretend. You close your eyes and dream it has been nothing but two hundred years of happiness and bliss in Astarion’s home.

‘When I first saw you,’ you say quietly, ‘I thought you were a ghost come back to haunt me.’

‘Are you often haunted by ghosts?’ Astarion asks. He still doesn’t look.

‘I’ve been properly reformed while you were away,’ you tell him. You stare at his neck. ‘There was only one ghost I was running from.’

He smiles. ‘And now you’ve found him. What do you think about this haunting?’

‘I am happily haunted,’ you say honestly. He opens his eyes then and turns toward you, lips pressed into a firm line. ‘But you are not happily haunting.’

Astarion sits up then and you follow him, legs sticky and wet. You reach for his hands and pull them into your lap. You watch as he struggles to accept a kind touch. In a way, you understand that. You remember how kindly he treated you when you didn’t deserve it. You hold his hands even when he tries to run away.

‘I was ashamed for you to see me like this,’ Astarion explains. He looks away, hesitant. ‘My condition isn’t one that I’m proud of. It isn’t fair to say I was tricked, but — ’

‘Wanting to live doesn’t make you a bad person,’ you say.

‘Perhaps not,’ he says. ‘But I became what I often chastised you for. I am greedy. I am prone to lying and bouts of theatrics. I’ve killed. It was embarrassing to fall so low.’

‘And now you rescue orphans,’ you say, shrugging. ‘You helped the gnomes. You helped the tieflings. You’re going to help the gnomes and tieflings again. There’s still good in you, your honor, beneath all that vampiric avarice you despair over.’

Astarion laughs and turns away from you. He’s looking for his clothes, and your heart squeezes so tightly in your chest that you move before you can stop yourself. You drape yourself over Astarion’s back and pull his arms away from his smallclothes. You can tell by the musculature of his arms that you only succeed because he lets you.

‘Please don’t leave me alone again,’ you whisper against his shoulder. Your wet eyelashes tickle the nape of his neck. ‘I waited for you that night and… I don’t want to be alone anymore.’

Astarion stays that night.

He stays every night after that too. For what it’s worth, your third visit to Baldur’s Gate is hardly better than the first two.

Between fighting cultists, saving children, and trying to convince most of your party that they’re not going to become mindflayers, you’re beginning to run a little thin. You feel like you’re going to shrivel up and die. You feel like the world is spinning and falling apart. You’ve killed Gortash and you’ve killed Orin and you killed Ketheric ages ago, but now you’re trying to keep the Emperor from betraying you and sacrificing Orpheus, and Cazador’s invitation is sitting pretty in your hands, and —

Well, that’s just it, isn’t it? Cazador’s invitation is in your hands, and you don’t have the heart to show Astarion. You’re afraid of showing Astarion. You know that as soon as you show him the invitation, he’ll lose his mind. You’ve only just recovered him and you’re already worried about losing him again.

You bury the invitation in the garden behind the inn like you’re a dog with a bone. You shovel the dirt with your hands until they’re cracked and raw and bleeding and the invitation is buried six feet in the ground. It should scare you that Cazador knows who you are, but it doesn’t. You aren’t stupid enough to run headfirst into his trap. And Astarion isn’t stupid either, but he’s scared, and being scared makes you do stupid things. Astarion almost does a very stupid thing like you predicted he would.

The Rite of Ascension was right there in his hands, and he had almost consumed it. You aren’t sure what changed his mind at the last minute but you’re thankful. Astarion crawls into your arms that night and sobs for hours. ‘What are we going to do about tomorrow?’ Astarion asks you softly.

He’s been tracing patterns into your spine all evening. If he moves his hands now, you’d still feel his fingertips against your skin. You’re hiding your face in your arms so you don’t have to think about it. You can’t stop thinking about it.

‘We’re going to fight the Absolute,’ you say.

‘Like it’s that simple?’

‘I am going to look another god in the face,’ you say, ‘and I am going to tell it to fuck off back to Avernus.’

‘Do Netherbrains come from Avernus?’

You don’t know. You’re too worried to think too hard about the simplest details. So far, you’re every plan has been to go in, stab whoever is the loudest, and then leave before things get worse. It’s hard to keep your head above the waves as they keep crashing down on you.

You don’t want to talk about tomorrow. If things don’t go well, you’re all going to die anyway and all that planning will have been for nothing. You turn on your side and appraise Astarion’s expression. He’s looking at you with muted disbelief. You choose to ignore it.

‘What are we going to do after tomorrow?’ you ask.

Astarion opens his mouth to chastise you for changing the subject, but he closes it almost immediately. He doesn’t want to talk about it either. It’s a scary thing to walk into the end of the world with a sword and a dagger. At least Dame Aylin will be there. You hope she can just stomp the Netherbrain to death and then it’ll all be over.

‘I could always go back to being a magistrate,’ Astarion says conversationally.

He picks at a thread coming loose on his blanket.

‘If you go back to that, I’ll go back to being a criminal,’ you muse. ‘We can have nasty sex on your desk again. You always did look damn good in a cassock.’

Astarion laughs. He laughs like the sunlight that peeks through the window on a sunny morning. He laughs like the moonlight that splays on the cobblestone of Baldur’s Gate long after everyone else has already gone to bed. It’s hideous — it’s melodic and intoxicating, and you reach across the distance and touch his cheek without thinking.

You slide your finger across to his nose. You press your finger against the wrinkle between his brow, and Astarion starts laughing again so you do too. You kiss him while he laughs, and then he holds you and you both laugh together. He will never be a judge again. Your connections with the Zhentarim will die out.

Astarion brushes his fingers against your hip bone. He rolls out of bed like it’s the easiest thing in the world to do, and you miss him. Already without him, the bed is much colder. You dramatically crawl across to his side and press your nose into his pillowcase to smell the faint traces of whiskey that are left.

When he returns, he presents you with his old cravat which has been neatly restored almost to perfection. He had sewn it back together himself. You had worn it for two hundred years as a good luck charm against evil, and the wear and tear had nearly torn it to shreds. You’d never had the heart to try to tailor it yourself. Sewing wasn’t your strong suit, and you had never cried over Astarion’s death until the day you thought you had lost it.

Astarion neatly ties the cravat around your wrist like a promise. He kisses your skin and inhales as though in a dream, nose brushing against the fabric, like the touch of a ghost against your veins. Your throat tightens.

‘Wherever this takes us,’ Astarion says, eyes burning. ‘I want to be there with you in the end.’

You tuck inside your bed with Astarion that night and watch the moon disappear through the window. It’s barely daylight when you’re finally too exhausted to stay awake, and Astarion almost lets you both miss the final showdown. Lae’zel, however, doesn’t. ‘I don’t mind what we do,’ Astarion is saying, ‘once we get to the — ’

You watch with muted horror as Astarion’s skin begins to glimmer in the sunlight. The fire begins cracking under his skin, brimming against his cheekbones and nose and throat and hair much like Karlach when she overheats. You watch as the tips of his ears ignite, and then he’s searching for you frantically between all of your friends.

‘I have to go,’ he chokes out. ‘I have to — ’

There is a world where you let Astarion run alone, where you both get separated on the docks and never find one another again. He runs from the sun as he bursts with radiant energy and as stars pour from his skin, you forget what Wyll is saying, and you run after him.

Astarion finds sanctuary in melting shade beneath a set of boxes. He’s curled up into himself when you arrive, and you drop next to him, pulling your cloak over your heads. He looks up at you, bewildered.

But you have lived through losing Astarion once, and it has haunted you for two hundred years. You had known loneliness and fear and anger, and the thought of surviving it for even a day more makes your stomach roll. You press your forehead to Astarion’s and stand as tall as you can so the sun can’t touch him ever again.

‘Won’t your arms get tired?’ Astarion asks you faintly.

He watches you with a sense of wonder. His skin slowly returns to normal, no more flickering stardust and ash, and you grin. He slowly smiles too, nervous but you shake your head and keep your cloaked raised.

‘Never,’ you say. ‘Not when it’s you.’

‘My reform worked, then?’ he says.

‘I’ve learned about your stuck-up decorum,’ you say. ‘It’s true. I can confirm.’

‘A sense of propriety?’ Astarion asks, and if his voice goes any softer, you’ll melt too.

‘Let me carry the weight of your sins,’ you tell him sincerely, laughing a little. ‘And if we need to find another desk then we will. But I’ll be your knight in shining armor, your honor, and carry a parasol above your head as a proper chamberlain would.’

Astarion snorts. ‘That isn’t quite the job of a chamberlain.’

You hold the cloak up for two hours at least while Astarion recovers from the damage. You can’t help but notice that he looks happy and content even in the shadows. It must be because you’re there, although you’re hesitant to take credit for all his happiness. When you let down the cloak, the sun has set. When Astarion rises, he kisses your cheek sweetly. ‘The silence stretches on — I’m all alone,’ you muse, ‘Please, can I hold your hands, just for a while?’

Bernard’s arms wrap around you gently, and you wrap your arms around his steel ribs. You’ve taken up residence in the old Arcane Tower in the Underdark. You appreciate the permanent nighttime, and if you admitted you only did it because Astarion wanted to be close to his family, it wouldn’t be entirely true. With a bit of help from Gale, you’ve managed to turn the tower into a comfortable fortress. Sometimes Omeluum comes to visit you. Occasionally, there’s word from Shadowheart from the Selûnite Outpost. She’s hoping to restore it. She wants you to come visit.

‘Are you still playing with that dusty old thing, my love?’ Astarion hums from the doorway.

‘You be kind to Bernard,’ you warn him. ‘He’s my friend.’

‘Of course, of course,’ Astarion says, holding his hands up. ‘I’ll be kind to the scrap metal.’

You roll your eyes and step away, touching Bernard’s chest briefly. Astarion has just arrived back from a trip. There are spawn all over the Underdark now, and they treat Astarion as though he’s some sort of prince. They heed your word too, but none so much as his. Their eldest brother, their favorite. They tolerate you if it means getting to see Astarion.

You’re a jack-of-all-trades and master-of-none now. You leave your handiwork for the day or night or whatever it is to go down to your bedroom and recline in bed. Astarion lights each candle one by one until the room is illuminated. You smile and watch as he works.

‘Having responsibility suits you well,’ you say, resting your cheek on your palm. ‘Although it’s funny how our positions have changed somewhat.’

‘I’m the contracted killer,’ Astarion says with a laugh. ‘Are you a magistrate now?’

‘I have at least four hundred years of life left,’ you snort. ‘I, Magistrate Judge Stick-Up-My-Ass, sentence thee to fifty years of community service!’

Astarion rolls his eyes at you dramatically and throws himself into bed, kicking off his boots as he does so. He smells of fresh oils and mist. You bury your nose in his hair. You practically burrow yourself into him, wrapping your arms and legs around him like a mindflayer. You squeeze him tightly in your arms.

‘We have a sprawling manse and all you can think of to do all day is mock me for a position I have not occupied in two hundred years?’ Astarion pouts.

You kiss his hair. ‘What else should I do?’

‘Well,’ Astarion says, tone turning conspiratorial. ‘There are a certain amount of fuckable places here. Several desks, I’ve counted them all, and couches.’

You contemplate it, but after several tendays on the road and a wiggling visitor in your head, you think the bed is the best place. You pull Astarion up to kiss him, arms wrapping around his neck so he can’t leave you. You never want him to go again. You bump your nose against his and hide a smile in his coiffed hair when he melts against your chest.

You sigh prettily when Astarion takes you in your velvet sheets that you float as though in a dream. Your troubles are long over, and that person you thought you lost — your immortal soul — has returned to you as beautiful as the day you lost him. When you shudder, Astarion brushes hair out of your eyes adoringly and tastes your pulse at your jaw. You dig your fingers into the small of his back.

It’s like you’ve found a family. A very bitey, very competitive family. Still, you wouldn’t change any of it for the world. You hold Astarion’s face in your hands and see the man you knew and the man he’s become. Slowly, you pull his mouth towards your neck and feel your heartbeat jump in your chest.

He bites you for the first time that night.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x oc #astarion smut #bg3 smut #from ，carcosa .#my fic #YOU GUYS CAN STOP MANIFESTING SNAKES IN MY HOUSE NOW #I LAID DOWN TO SLEEP & ALL I COULD DREAM ABOUT WAS CRAVATS #honestly patch 5 inspired a lot too #learning about astarion becoming A Dad to a bunch of vampire spawn really like........................... fired up the brain

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xoxotria · 24 days

Text

inferno | y. jh

pairing: targaryen!jeonghan x targaryen!reader

themes: house of dragon!au, incest, arranged marriage, typical house of dragon themes

warnings: incest, unprotected sex, edging, oral sex, switch reader, mentions of reader having breasts and a vagina

summary: unable to make his two troublesome children settle down the king takes matters into his own hands and decides to wed them.

“you and i are made of fire. we have always been meant to burn together.”

another daughter of the lord baratheon storms out of the prince’s chambers a scowl on her face as she passes by the targaryen princess. curious she walks towards her brother’s room to see what all that was about.

“chased off another one dear brother?” she teases as she peaks into her older brother’s chambers.

jeonghan sits at the edge of his bed a cup of wine in hand as he rolls his eyes at her.

“it’s not my fault she’s too tame for my taste.” he smirks.

jeonghan targaryen, the second heir to the throne after their other brother seungcheol, was a menace always getting into trouble with his dragon. he was an untamable soul—one that even the king, his father, cannot control.

“emā se ānogar hen zaldrīzes flowing rȳ ao. they’re sepār zūgagon naejot zālagon.” you have the blood of the dragon flowing through you. they’re just scared to burn. she smiles taking a seat on the set of chairs in the middle of his chambers.

“hae gaomagon ao jorrāelagon mandia, skore dīnagon īlva isse keskydoso situation.” as do you dearest sister, which puts us in the same situation.

he was right, she wasn’t very different from him. despite the god-like appearances they carry, she was a targaryen. according to her grandfather king jaehaerys ii, every time a targaryen is born the gods toss a coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land. as much as targaryens are prone to greatness, they are also prone to madness.

the targaryen princess was vastly known to be like her ancestor queen visenya targaryen. a passionate, stern and unforgiving woman who feared nothing and no one but she was also loving to her two brothers. she trusted no one other than them—she was their little flame. she was immensely stubborn and headstrong, challenging her bethroned to keep up with her which always ends up with them break off their engagement unable to diminish her inferno.

she knew what she wanted and she wasn’t going to let anyone get in the way of what she wanted—what she deserved.

“father will have our heads for breaking off another engagement he worked so hard to arrange for us.” she watches as jeonghan stands up to refill his cup downing it as he shrugs.

“his anger has always been temporary, ñuha perzys. it will only be a matter of time before he finds us another engagement to break.” he winks. my flame, the term of endearment he gave her as soon as she was born into this world.

“let us hope that is the case, there are only a few noble houses to choose from left—for me anyways, baratheon, tully, stark and hightower to name the few. are we as the rumors say we are?” she whispers softly as she peers up at him.

he puts his cup down as he encircles his arms around her, engulfing her into a tight hug. he knew of her worries—he’s heard the whispers in the king’s landing regarding both of their tendencies to be unreasonable and extremely picky when it comes to their betrothed or the rumors about them being together alone in each others chambers in the middle of the night.

“we know fully well who we are, who cares what they say? you and i ride the biggest dragons to ever live, we do not need the approval or the validation ñuha perzys.”

“i suppose your right.”

“please, ñuha perzys. i am always right.” he boasts as she shoves him off of her with a smile on her face.

to many of the people in the palace, the bond they shared seemed to dance the lines between siblings and something more. with personalities that matched each other’s, the similarities in their ways of thinking, and the way they presented themselves to the court and to the people of the kingdom. they mirrored each other so well.

jeonghan would hear the rumors as he loitered the streets of the city on days sleep would not find him, he thought about it. targaryen’s often marry siblings, it was a normal occurence in their family. their ancestor king aegon i even took both of his sisters to marry. it plagued his thoughts whenever he found himself staring across the hall at the sight of his little flame listening to her betrothed talk endlessly about something that did not intrigue her one bit as she toyed with the necklace he gifted her on her nineteenth name day.

unknowingly to the male, the female targaryen also harbored similar thoughts about her brother as she watched him and his betrothed acquaint themselves with each other in the gardens she often read. she would feel a pinch of jealousy as his betrothed made advances on him causing her to storm off to the dragonpit to go ride on vermithor.

“except when it comes to the women you choose.” she laughs as his face morphs to a shocked one.

“you did not! i don’t even pick them!”

“yes, i did! you always had a choice on the matter brother.”

lunging at her, jeonghan pushes her unto his bed as he tickled her sides causing her to erupt in laughter.

“take it back, ñuha perzys.” he smirked as he pinned both her arms above her head as he continued to tickle her sides.

“never.” she whispered realising how close their faces were to each other.

“i’ll give you one last chance. take it back.”

lilac colored eyes stared into light blue eyes, faces centimeters apart as the tension between them rises. his eyes glancing down to her lips briefly as he watched her bite her bottom lip.

kiss me. her eyes begged, breath hitching as he leaned down closer their noses touching.

“say it.” he whispered. say you want me to kiss you ñuha perzys and i will.

they stared at each other, hearts pounding against their chests, their bodies flushed against one another. they knew they had no right to touch each other, crave them like air—but they did. somehow they knew that the fire that burned in them was only meant to burn together.

“i—”

“jeonghan! father is summoning you.” seungcheol’s voice booms behind the wooden doors as he slams his fists against it.

snapping out of their thoughts jeonghan pulled away and offered his hand to help her up from the bed as she muttered a small ‘thank you’. she had made her way back to the seat she was in just in time before the doors slammed open with her other brother walking in.

“i never said you could enter, brother.” jeonghan muttered as seungcheol sat down on the other seat across from the princess.

“ñuha perzys, i didn’t know you were in here.” seungcheol greeted as she smiled at him.

“i had the honor of seeing another lady storm out of his chambers.” she replied as seungcheol laughs looking over at his younger brother.

“again? for fucks sake, jeonghan! what’s wrong with her now?”

she isn’t her. he thought bitterly as his eyes met hers quickly before looking back at seungcheol and shrugging at their brother.

“too ‘tame’ is what he told me.” she pipes up as seungcheol’s brow raises at him.

“at this point, i do not even know who father would set you up with anymore.” he snatched the cup of wine from the table before turning to the princess. “you as well.”

“what is that supposed to mean?”

“please, ñuha perzys. i know everything that goes on in the keep. i heard about the lord crying and storming off after you took him out on a ride with vermithor.”

she once took the young lord on a afternoon ride with vermithor not knowing how the boy was terrified of both heights and the strong personality she had. the lord was a pussy anyways hurling at the stories the princess told about various poisons and tricks to kill someone without the evidence pointing back at you. it didn’t shock her he’d already fled back home with his tail between his legs.

“not my fault the boy hasn’t grown a dick yet.” she shrugged earning a chuckle from jeonghan.

“well father is not going to be please with both of you either way so i suggest running along and heading to meet with him and at the small council meeting room immediately.” seungcheol stands as he makes his way out jeonghan’s chambers.

the two shared a look before heading out as well, a look they shared a lot recently, a look that meant they were fucked.

ii.

“i am at my wits end with the both of you! you scared off the last lord in close vicinity interested in you and you—” the king points slams his hand on the table as the princess and prince look on bored as ever. “—you have yet to marry a lady i set up for you! time is running out for both of you troublesome children of mine.”

“father i will not be tied down to a boy who can not handle a woman such as myself. i know what i want and what i deserve. jeonghan feels the same way. do not expect me to marry a boy who only wants me for my cunt and dragon.” she reasons her voice stern as jeonghan nods in agreement beside her.

the king was livid. he could not understand why his children was being this difficult with finding spouses! he did not know what to do with them anymore. he hadn’t cause his father this type of problems when it came to his marriage.

“i may be your father but i am also your king! my word is absolutely final. what am i to do with you?” he glares at his children, a headache starting.

does he try one more time with the lords of houses valaryeon or stark? or the ladies of house lannister or strong? the king was stuck on what to do until an idea popped up inside his head.

“seeing as your engagements to other houses have yet to be successful you have left me no choice but to wed you both to each other seeing as only the both of you tolerate and understand one another. i should have done this from the start and saved myself time.”

the two royals glanced at each other as they silently cheered in their heads. this was it. their chance to finally be themselves unapologetically without thinking about how their betrothed would act or what the people would say but doubts of how she would react still plagued jeonghan’s thoughts.

would she like that? he thought as he glanced over at the princess beside him.

“father…” he glanced over at the king as the princess stayed silent beside him. “i will only do so if she accepts to as well.”

she stared at the marble table in front of her as she takes jeonghan’s words in. he was giving her a choice in their marriage. was he not interested in the idea at all? was he hesitating to marry her because he loved someone else? she had to play her cards right, if she declined she would probably shipped off to dragonstone and wait to be married to some lord she’d have no choice but to marry for political reasons or does she take the chance with the one person who she truly feels something for? she briefly glances at her brother who sat quietly staring at her before glancing over to her father.

“i’ll do it. i’ll marry jeonghan father.”

“then it is settled! you will marry in two moons time.” the king announces clapping his hands as he stands to congratulate his children. “i can die happy knowing my children are settled well into this world. it is the only thing a father wants for his children.”

“thank you father.” she replied a small smile on her lips as jeonghan intertwines their hands together.

“i will fulfill my duty towards you and the crown, father. you have my word.” he declares as he plants a kiss on the back of her hand.

duty. she was only his duty. she thought bitterly as she exchanged a tight-lipped smile with him, her father cheering and talking with the hand gleefully in the background.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

the princess grew distant with jeonghan, something everyone in the palace took notice of. preparations for the royal wedding were well underway as they only had a limited amount of time and everything needed to be perfect.

“you look absolutely stunning ñuha perzys.” seungcheol complimented as she stood on a pedestal being fitted into her wedding gown.

“do you not think it is too much?” she asked gesturing to the silks that clung to her body.

“nonsense, ñuha perzys. it’s perfect.” he cooed at his baby sister. “is something wrong?” he asked he noticed the change in her posture.

“nothing is wrong.”

“something is bothering you. everyone leave us.” he commanded as the seamstress and the ladies exited the room.

“tell me what is wrong and i will do something about it.” he demanded softly as he took her hands in his.

“you and i both know i can do far worse than you brother.” she chuckled.

“do not change the subject ñuha perzys. i’ve noticed the distance of you and jeonghan as of late and i’m not the only one. what’s on your mind?”

seungcheol had noticed the subtle changes between the two. he did not want to pry into the changes in the ‘relationship’ his siblings had but as their older brother it felt like he needed to especially when the pair had been ignoring each other for the past few days after the announcement of their engagement. he noticed how jeonghan was distracted during lessons and small council meetings, spacing out more than usual. he planned on cornering him but it was harder to see him alone with all the planning he had been doing for the wedding so when he found out about his sister’s dress fitting he took the chance to talk to her and get to the bottom of things.

“i know marriage is more often than not only for political reasons and that targaryen marriages are often something the crown does to strengthen claims to the throne and blood purity. that’s all it us right? a duty—to the people, to the king, to the crown. i get that marriage is mostly a duty! a stupid fucking duty.” she chuckled darkly. “i don’t want to be someone’s duty, seungcheol. i deserve more than that. i’m a targaryen princess. i ride vermithor, one of the biggest dragons from old valaria. i am more than just a fucking duty! so why am i just a duty to the crown for him when he’s so much more to me? am i not worthy to be wed just because he loves me?”

jeonghan’s words had affected her more than she let herself too. she hated knowing she was just a duty to him—a fucking duty. she was going to be his wife for the rest of his life and he viewed her as a duty? she was livid. after the meeting with their father she had made her way to the dragon pit and took vermithor out on a ride returning in early hours of the day before the sun came out completely avoiding the blonde prince who waited for her to return but eventually fell asleep doing so.

she had avoided being in the same room as jeonghan since that day which confused him. had he done something to upset her? did she not want to get married to him? he had been hurt when he knocked on her chambers to spend time together like they always did before bed but she shooed him away as soon as he had knocked on her door. he tried several times to corner her alone after that waiting by the library to see the end of her lessons with the septa or at the dragon pit waiting for her to come down from her flight with vermithor but with their wedding fast approaching it was impossible to do so. he gave up after the fifth day deciding to sulk about it instead or make it everyone’s problem that he wasn’t in the best mood because she had been avoiding it.

“he said that? for fucks sake! don’t you see that he is absolutely obssessed with you?” he asks taking her by surprise.

“he does not, seungcheol. you should’ve heard it come out from his own stupid mouth that i was just a duty to the crown for him!”

“ñuha perzys you are stupid to think he does not love you.”

“prove it then.” she interjected stubbornly.

“gods are you blind? have you really not noticed anything?” he asked as she shook her head ‘no’.

“do you ever wonder why father never reprimands you for things you do out of line? well, it’s because jeonghan always takes the blame for you even if father knows it was you who did it. all those fucking lords that would dare talk ill about you or sexualize you with him in the same room—the one’s who’d disappear all of a sudden? they’ve all been murdered by jeonghan. gods i would know—i was there as he tortured them before feeding them to vhagar once. he fears no consequences that will come to him if it meant you would be safe and taken cared for. that man has done things that would traumatise any other normal human being but he did it for you. if that doesn’t show his love and dedication to you i do not know who will ñuha perzys.”

“then why did he just not ask father from the start to marry me if he felt that way?”

“do you honestly think he will risk his relationship with you not knowing how you felt for him in return? he endured seeing you with lords not even worthy of you.”

she felt confused. had he really viewed her the way she did secretly? had she really missed all of that?

“fuck.” she cursed as realization of his actions, his words— him had set in her mind. “what do i do seungcheol? he most probably thinks i hate him for having to marry him.”

a smirk makes it way across seungcheol as he looked at her.

“leave that part to me, ñuha perzys.”

iii.

after days of trying to get him alone, the prince jeonghan was finally away from the chaos of preparing for their wedding. he had been practicing on a wooden dummy in the training yard, swiftly jabbing his sword as it delivered calculated and fluid movements that would make any enemy falter and die in a span of minutes. he was always skilled with a sword as he never wanted to not be prepared in case the threat of battle was present. he did not like his life being in the hands of his guards. she had approached him silently as he delivered one last swing at the dummy chopping it’s head off clean.

“ñuha dārilaros skoros ēza se dummy gaomagon naejot jiōragon such wrath hen ao?” my prince what has the dummy done to receive such wrath from you?

his head snapped at the sound of her voice as he sheathes his sword by his hip. he was mildly surprised to see and hear her infront of him after he had been unsuccessful at being granted a private audience with his betrothed for days.

“ñuha perzys, skoros grants nyke se rigle hen emare ñuha betrothed isse ñuha presence tolī tubissa hen issare denied hen such?” my flame, what grants me the honor of having my betrothed in my presence after days of being denied of such? his eyebrow raised teasing her but there was a hint of bitterness in his tone that wasn’t looked past by the princess.

“may i invite you to take a walk with me, my prince?” she asked politely as he nodded falling into step beside her as they walked through the gardens.

a tense silence blanketed the two royals as they walked in step with each other, hands so close to brushing each other with how close they were. months ago, they would watch each other walk the same paths in the garden with each other’s betrothed with spite as they watched their betrothed try to swoon them over with flattery that would take them nowhere—nothing would swoon them over. no amount of riches, fame and flattery could. they just weren’t who plagued their thoughts.

“will you ever tell me why you’ve been actively avoiding me or shall i tickle it out of you?” jeonghan piped up as he stared down at her.

“i have not been avoiding you. i’m just busy with wedding preparations—”

“bullshit! i have been busy with my own share of wedding preparations but will always have time to spend with you. what have i done ñuha perzys?” he demanded standing infront of her as she peered up at him.

“for someone as smart as you are, you are quite dense.”

“ivestragon nyke kostilus, nyke daor gūrogon se lyka treatment hen ao mirre longer ñuha perzys.” tell me please, i cannot take the silent treatment from you any longer my flame. he begged as he grasps her hand in his own.

“a duty.” she whispered watching his face morph into a confused expression.

“you called me and our betrothal a fucking duty to the crown.” she glared at him as realization passes him.

“ñuha perzys, you are a duty i would gladly fulfill until my last breath but you are not only that to me. however, i would rather tell you that in a more private setting rather than the gardens where someone could easily eavesdrop into our conversation.” he explained as he kissed the back of her hand.

“sepār ȳdragon isse Valyrīha, mērī īlon drējī shifang se udrir isse īlva lentor se se people kesīr.” just speak in valyrian, only we truly understand the language in our family and the people here. she uttered pulling her hand away creating some distance from him.

he sighed pressing his lips together but nodded. he gathered his thoughts as she stared at him, jaw clenching as she absentmindedly bit on her lip.

“fuck—don’t do that.” he whispered.

“speak or i’ll leave.”

“i will—just. fuck.”

jeonghan was never this bothered by any woman. he was used to women fawning and lusting over him usually throwing the bodies against his hoping to receive a reaction from him (they don’t) before he pushes them away in disgust. so how was it that by simply biting with her lips, he could feel his self restraint thinning fast.

“i’m serious. i will leave.”

“don’t.” he pleaded.

she narrowed her eyes at her betrothed as she stared at his tense form. she could faintly make out the built of his body from the way his sweat made his clothes stick to his body. she gulped trying to rid of the unholy thoughts running through her head.

“nyke gōntan daor mazōregon emare naejot dīnagon ao sepār kesrio syt nyke viewed ao hae such. iksan daor mēre qilōni kessa dīnagon syt political reasons iā mirros tolie than se fact se ābra nyke dīnagon iksis se ābra nyke jorrāelagon. nyke gōntan daor chase qrīdrughagon mirre lī ābrar, ossēnagon mirre lī lords, gūrogon multiple blames syt anyone. ao gīmigon se type hen issaros iksan ñuha perzys.” i did not accept having to marry you just because i viewed you as such. i am not one who will marry for political reasons or anything other than the fact the woman i marry is the woman i love. i did not chase away all those women, murder all those lords, take multiple blames for anyone. you know the type of person i am my flame.

he thought about the lords he’d torture and feed vhagar after hearing such disgusting and crude marks about her—people who viewed and lusted her as just some royal whore made his blood boil. he swore that as long as he lived, he would kill such disgusting animals without any mercy.

“eman dedicated ñuha ābrar naejot ao. nyke promised nykēla bona hae bōsa hae ao sagon biare kesan gaomagon everything isse ñuha power bona ziry stays bona ñuhoso. bona daor ōdrikagon kessa mirre māzigon naejot ao. kostan daor sagon se sȳrje rȳ expressing ñuha emotions rȳ udra yn nyke hope bona hēnkirī kesan sagon able naejot. jaelan īlva naejot sagon isse iā biare dīnilūks ñuha perzys. mērī ao se eman keskydoso inferno bona burns deep iemnȳ īlva. īlon we’re va moriot meant naejot zālagon brighter hēnkirī. lo nyke could urnēptre ao skorkydoso olvie nyke jorrāelatan ao nyke would” i have dedicated my life to you. i promised myself that as long as you're happy i will do everything in my power that it stays that way. that no harm will ever come to you. i may not be the best at expressing my emotions through words but i hope that together i will be able to. i want us to be in a happy marriage my flame. only you and i have the same inferno that burns deep within us. we we’re always meant to burn brighter together. if i could show you how much i loved you i would.

he watched her for any reactions from him basically professing his love and dedication to her. he was practically calling her his already.

“pār urnēptre me—prove naejot nyke bona ao aren’t verdagon bisa bē sepār naejot mazverdagon nyke rȳbagon skoros jaelan naejot rȳbagon.” then show me—prove to me that you aren’t making this up just to make me hear what i want to hear.

her eyes burned into his own, a look of need behind them. she needed him to prove whatever he said to be true. it was a harsh environment they lived in, they needed each other to get through it alive besides, two dragons are better than one right? his head was foggy as he made his decision but he knew this was the way he could prove his feelings towards her.

he kissed her. he heard her breath hitch as his lips crashed against hers.

“i’d do anything for you, ñuha perzys.” his hands gripping her waist as he whispered between kisses. “you just have to say it.”

his touch sent tingles through her entire body. he had touched her before but never this way, it felt addicting to touch her that way—in ways only he could.

“tell me what you want. i promise you i’ll give it to you, anything you want.”

“you.” she whispered as their lips brushed against each other.

“i want you jeonghan. i’ve waited long enough to have you this way ñuha jorrāelagon. i will not wait any longer.”

never had jeonghan imagined the day he would hear her speak such words towards him—all those years of pining and protecting her had taken him to this position. she was a magnificent sight to him. he had always seen her in such way despite knowing of the many personalities that she displays to certain people. she held herself in power and bravery without doubt with a fire behind her actions. she was always his flame.

“eman waited tolī bōsa naejot rȳbagon lī udra issare uttered hen aōha lips ñuha jorrāelagon.” i have waited too long to hear those words being uttered from your lips my love.

“i’m sorry for making you wait,” she had pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around his neck as he gripped her closer to him.

“i would wait a thousand years to be with you, ñuha jorrāelagon.”

“you do not need to wait any longer. i am here now.” she smiled as she pressed her lips against his.

they kissed each other as if they were starved, jeonghan’s tongue sliding into her mouth as she moaned at the feeling of his hands grabbing unto her ass. she moved forward slightly pressing herself harder against him as he groaned at the feeling of her breasts pressed against his chest.

he pulled away foreheads touching as they caught their breaths. he smiled kissing her softly before cupping her face in his hands.

“let me take you somewhere more private.” he whispered as she nodded.

letting herself laugh as he took her hand into his and dragged her into his chambers. what they would be doing was immoral but neither had cared at that point. they were getting married soon anyways what difference would it make?

jeonghan takes the sight of her in his chambers in. she had been in there before but it was different now. her visits once used to be of innocent banter and chatter but it succeeded that now.

a smile ghosts across his lips as he slowly brushes a stray lock of her hair away from her face as she leaned in towards his touch. he kissed along her neck smiling as he heard her breath hitch tangling her fingers in his long locks.

he hummed as he nipped at her neck leaving bruises in his wake. his hands were running along the curve of her breasts to the curve of her back leaving her breathless.

“you have no idea how long i have been imagining seeing you in this light dearest sister. do you touch yourself at the thought of me?” he asked, pulling the fabric of her dress down to swirl his tongue on her nipple.

“always.” she breathed biting back a moan. “gods just touch me already.” the way his tongue swirled around her nipple and his featherlight touches had her arousal pooling between her legs.

“mmm…patience, little one.” he whispered against her skin, goosebumps rising.

her chest rose and fell, eyebrows furrowing at the pleasure she was getting from just his tongue. he’d tease her another time—he wanted her now.

jeonghan pulled his tunic off in a swift move, his trousers coming off just as quick. her eyes followed his movements, widening at the sight of him. was he going to fit in her? the thought sending shivers down her spine as he kissed her.

she had wrapped her legs on his hips, their cores brushing against each other earning moans from both of them. he was intoxicated with the way she coated his dick with her slick. he wanted more. he needed more.

he had kissed her with a ferocity he had held back all those years. he walked them towards the edge of his bed. gently he lowered her to his bed his lips peppering kisses on her chest down to her waist until he reacher her inner thighs.

“jeonghan.” she moaned out as his nose brushed her clit.

“relax, ñuha perzys.”

he licked her cunt, eyes watching as she wriggled in pleasure as he drank every drop of arousal he could get out of you. pleasure pooled in your lower regions as he stuck his tongue into you whilst his fingers played with your clit.

“seven fucking hells! yes just like that.” she cursed as she pushed his head deeper into her.

he chuckled as he continued his pace of pushing two fingers into her inserting another one to stretch her out futher, he could feel her getting close as her walls clenched around his fingers. the knot in her stomach painfully tight as her legs squished his head his tongue sending her over the edge.

he licked her arousal as she rode out her high. eyes fluttering shut as jeonghan pulled away to kiss her on the lips wanting to taste herself on his tongue.

he kissed her deeper as he aligned himself to her cunt, brushing his tip against her sensitive clit causing her to moan out once more.

“i need you inside me, please…” she pulled away from their kiss.

“it’s going to hurt for a bit ñuha perzys.” his eyes met hers as she nodded.

he rubbed circles into her hip as he coated his entire length with her arousal before sliding into her all the way to the hilt. she moaned feeling so full of him, falling back against the pillow. he kissed her as he allowed her to adjust to his size.

she could feel the pain subside before the immense pressure she felt. he moaned as he felt her clench around him.

“gods that feels so good.” she moaned out as she tapped his shoulder to make him start moving.

jeonghan peppered kisses along her neck and chest as he pulled out until the tip of his dick before bottoming out.

“seven fucking hells you fit me perfectly.” he growled into her ear as he rammed into her at a fast pace.

he reached around her to roll her nipple between his finger with her crying out in pleasure.

“you are my flame, princess. i crave your fire as i crave you.”

she had felt a sense of cockiness go through her as she heard those words fall from his lips. she had ripped herself away from him and pushed him to lay on the bed with a growl. she ran her fingers over the skin on his abdomen, lightly dragging her nails across his skin, making goosebumps appear. she had straddled his hips, aligning his dick against her core. with eyes locked on his, she slowly sank herself all the way down to his balls, mouth falling open as he stretched her.

“you’re fucking gorgeous, ñuha perzys,” jeonghan breathed as he gripped her hips, “fuck me. be my good girl and ride my dick.”

she did as he requested using his chest as leverage rolling her hips as she bounced on top of him. each time she came down his dick hit deep inside her hitting that one spot that made her see stars and clench around him.

she was losing herself with every new sensation she felt, every minute of her riding him pushing her closer to the edge of madness. jeonghan’s hands was busy pinching and tugging her nipple as the other reached between them to stroke the bundle of nerves.

“you’re doing so well,” he cooed. “just like that love…”

gods, he would be the cause of her undoing.

“jeonghan…i’m close…” she cried out as her head fell back.

and in one smooth motion, the prince had rolled them over, pinning her hands over her head. pounding into her at a brutal pace, jeonghan had latched his mouth to her breast, catching her nipple between his teeth and pushing her over the edge.

“jeonghan!” she screamed his name as her orgasm exploded through her, tearing through her and leaving her a panting mess beneath him.

“fuck…” he cursed out, pumping in and out of her chasing his own high before he finally came spilling himself inside her.

she had looked up at him, finding affection gracing his features. she had cupped his face bringing his face to her own to kiss him.

“does that prove how much i longed for you?” he asked as he pulled away from her breathless.

“it has, ñuha jorrāelagon.” she had smiled as he settled down beside her drapping the furs on their naked bodies.

“remember this,” he had run his fingers through her locks as she settled on the crook of his neck. “i would give the world to you if you asked me to. i will let the world burn if it meant you’d be mine for eternity. that is how much i love you.”

“i am yours as the sea belongs to the moon, the way dragons belong to the skies, and the way the embers in my heart only burn for you. you are the fire that i would conquer kingdoms for. my soul will forever be entangled into yours, as long as i shall live.”

jeonghan knew then that no matter what he would be the cause of the world’s demise if ever the god’s that reigned over them decide to play their ruthless games on her because she was what kept him away from the madness that always seemed to grab a hold of them.

they were from the same fire—always destined to burn together.

#choi seungcheol #jeonghan smut #svt scenarios #jeonghan fluff #yoon jeonghan #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeenfanfic #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen smut #yoon jeonghan smut #seventeen scenarios #seventeen #seventeen au

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deliciousangelfestival · 2 months

Text

Underworld Insomnia || 3 - B. Barnes

Character : Bucky × Psychiatrist Female!Reader

Summary: As a ruthless contract killer, Bucky is feared in the underworld of criminals. His opponents freeze when they see him, as he is feared among them. However, they don't know that he could be warm to only one person: his psychiatrist. The only person who could make him fall asleep.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , -

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Please let me know what your thoughts are. I'd love to hear your feedback. Thank you once again.

Upon hearing your plea and witnessing your disheveled appearance, Bucky feels a surge of determination. After all, you had helped him with his sleeping troubles, and now it's his turn to repay the favor. "Let's go back to somewhere safe," he suggests, his voice steady and reassuring.

A glimmer of hope flickers in your eyes at Bucky's offer of assistance. With a grateful nod, you gather Conroy into your arms once more, feeling a renewed sense of purpose and determination.

As you start to move, Conroy's voice breaks the silence with a whisper, "Are we going to run again?"

You pause, glancing down at Conroy with a reassuring smile. "No," you reply softly, your voice filled with determination. "I think we will stay safe for a while."

Arriving at Bucky's house, Conroy's eyes widen in awe as he takes in the grandeur of the surroundings. "Wow, you're rich," he exclaims, unable to hide his admiration.

Bucky can't help but scoff at the comment, a small smirk playing at the corners of his lips. Finally, he feels a sense of accomplishment at being able to impress the young boy, even for a moment.

At that moment, Bucky had assumed Conroy was just a curious kid, until he made another astute observation.

Conroy adjusts his glasses and remarks, "There's no female trace in this place. It looks so empty, which means this must be one of your hidden houses."

Bucky's eyebrows raise in surprise at Conroy's insight. "You hit the nail on the head," he acknowledges, impressed by the boy's perceptiveness.

Bucky begins to piece together the situation. He realizes that you and Conroy must be hiding, especially considering the recent danger you faced. Given the risk of the masked man finding your address, you would unlikely return to your place. Although Bucky doesn't fully trust you, he sees no harm in offering one of his safehouses as a temporary refuge.

When you heard that, you felt relieved. If this place is one of Bucky's hidden houses, it means it's likely off the radar of the group of people who chased you and Conroy.

"Thank you so much for your help, Mr.Barnes," you express gratefully, feeling a sense of gratitude toward him.

Bucky chuckles softly. "Call me Bucky. I feel old every time you call me 'Mr.'"

Before you can reply, Conroy interjects with his typical bluntness. "But you are old."

Bucky grits his teeth and playfully ruffles Conroy's hair. "Go to sleep," he commands, trying to distract the boy.

Conroy protests, "I can't. I'm hungry!" His complaint is cut short when you offer him a piece of chicken. Before returning, Bucky had kindly bought dinner from a fast-food chain restaurant.

As Conroy takes a bite of the seasoned fried chicken, his eyes widen in delight. "Yum! This is the most delicious food I've ever eaten! It's even better than the food in the lab."

Bucky raises an eyebrow, intrigued by Conroy's mention of a lab. What does it mean? Is this the first time the kid has tasted fried chicken?

"I think it's time for me to explain," you suggest, sensing Bucky's curiosity and realizing it's time to share more about your situation with him.

You and Bucky converse in the living room while Conroy enjoys his food, appearing like any other child his age in moments like these.

Seated in different chairs facing each other, you begin, "Conroy is a special kid."

Bucky nods in agreement, recognizing the uniqueness of the situation.

You continue, "He grew up in a lab where all the best scientists gather. His mother is my sister, who is also a scientist."

Memories flood back to you, vividly recalling the day when your sister, weak but beaming with happiness, handed you Conroy. "He's your nephew," she said gently, sealing your bond. Since that day, you promised to protect Conroy.

"The reason why we're hiding is because of the Hercules project," you explain further.

Bucky listens intently, intrigued by the unfamiliar name.

"Hercules is the name of the drugs," you elaborate. "It's designed to make soldiers stronger, undefeatable, with accelerated wound healing, enhanced eyesight, and heightened hearing senses."

"Sounds promising," Bucky comments "What does this have to do with Conroy?"

You close your eyes, remembering the horrors of that terrible night. The day you lost your sister, along with the lab. "The drugs caused people to go insane. Blood poured from their eyes and ears, and they would harm themselves."

Bucky's expression darkens as he absorbs the gravity of the situation.

"The worst part," you continue grimly, "is that the lab wants to mass-produce the drugs for regular people, particularly those who enjoy working out. Just imagine the potential side effects."

Bucky's brow furrows in confusion. "Still, I just can't connect the situation with Conroy," he admits, struggling to understand the full extent of Conroy's involvement.

As you explain further, you clench your fist tightly, the tension evident in your voice. "The only person who could recreated the drugs is my sister. Conroy has an amazing memory. Before my sister died, she made sure he remembered the Hercules drug formula, the calculations, and the side-effects. But what truly made him a target is that he memorized the names of the victims."

Bucky is taken aback by this revelation, his expression mirroring his disbelief. "A 4-year-old understands something so gruesome?" he murmurs, his voice laced with incredulity.

You nod solemnly. "Yes. And that's why we're hiding."

"The people who chase us," you continue, your voice trembling with emotion, "on the day my sister destroyed the drugs, they destroyed the lab. Everything they built turned to ash. And everyone in it, including my sister." A shiver runs down your spine as you recall the horrifying events.

"If they catch Conroy," you whisper, your hands trembling as you clasp them together, "they will torture him, force him to reveal the Hercules drug formula. And after that..." You trail off, unable to voice the unspeakable horrors that may await Conroy if he were to fall into the wrong hands.

Tears well up in your eyes as you speak, the weight of the situation bearing down on you with crushing force. "I pray to God every day," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper, "that nothing bad happens to Conroy."

Bucky feels a surge of empathy as he listens to your story. If he had a family like yours, he knows he would be grateful beyond measure.

"Bucky, could you help us?" you ask, your voice tinged with desperation.

Bucky tilts his head, considering your request. "How are you going to pay me?" he inquires, his tone cautious and business-like.

You're taken aback by the question, realizing you hadn't thought about it before. "I...," you falter, unsure of how to respond.

"You can't afford me," Bucky asserts bluntly, cutting off your attempt to explain.

Speechless, you struggle to find the right words. "I-I know," you stammer, feeling a sense of helplessness wash over you. "Is there anything I could do?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky remains silent for a moment, his expression unreadable as he considers your offer.

Finally, he speaks, his voice low and measured. "Work for me," he suggests. "Read me to sleep."

"That's it?" you inquire, surprised by the simplicity of his request.

Bucky nods a hint of determination in his eyes. "That's it," he confirms.

You smile warmly at Bucky, feeling a surge of gratitude for his unexpected kindness. "I will give my best. Thank you, Bucky," you express sincerely, your voice filled with appreciation.

When Bucky sees your smile directed at him, he's taken aback. He's accustomed to seeing you with a groggy expression around him, so your genuine smile catches him off guard. It's a small gesture, but it makes him feel strangely reassured as if you're starting to trust him.

"Sister," Conroy pipes up, interrupting the moment with his childish voice.

Bucky rolls his eyes at the interruption, but a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

Conroy leaps toward you eagerly. "I'm full and I want to sleep. Read me a bedtime story, please," he requests, his excitement palpable.

However, before Conroy can reach you, Bucky swoops in and lifts him up. "Your sister is going to read me a bedtime story," he announces, a playful glint in his eye.

Conroy frowns in confusion. "But you're an adult. Why do you want to listen to children's stories?" he questions, his curiosity piqued.

You step in to defuse the situation, sensing the tension between the two. "Guys, calm down," you interject, your voice gentle yet firm. "I'll read it to both of you," you offer, hoping to restore peace and harmony to the moment.

As Conroy and Bucky settle into their respective armchairs, a palpable tension fills the room as they exchange glares.

You clear your throat, breaking the silence, and begin to read another bedtime story, hoping to diffuse the tension between the two.

"Once upon a time, there lived a mischievous squirrel named Sammy in a magical forest far, far away. Sammy was known throughout the forest for his clever tricks and daring escapades. Sammy's adventures took him to every corner of the forest, from the tallest treetops to the deepest, darkest caves. Along the way, he encountered many colorful characters, including wise old owls, friendly rabbits, and even a grumpy bear with a heart of gold-."

As you reach the story's climax, you notice their eyelids drooping, and before long, they both drift off into a peaceful sleep.

The soothing cadence of your voice coupled with the enchanting tale seems to be lulling them into a peaceful slumber.

You smile softly to yourself, feeling a sense of accomplishment as you witness the calming effect your storytelling has on them.

With each passing moment, their breathing becomes more rhythmic, and their bodies relax into the comfortable armchairs.

You quietly close the book, careful not to disturb their rest, and bask in the serene atmosphere of the room.

********

The next morning, Bucky wakes up feeling refreshed.

As he rises from his chair, he notices that Conroy is still sound asleep. Leaning down, Bucky can't help but admire the child's peaceful expression and chubby cheeks, finding him unexpectedly endearing. However, he knows all too well that Conroy's innocent appearance belies a sharp tongue that can test even Bucky's patience.

The aroma of something sweet wafts through the air, drawing Bucky's attention to the kitchen. Surprised, he finds you cooking pancakes—a sight he never expected, as he rarely sees anyone use the kitchen, let alone cook.

"Morning," you greet, turning off the stove and wiping your hands on your apron as you acknowledge Bucky's presence.

Bucky squints slightly against the brightness of the morning light streaming into the kitchen. The room seems to radiate with a warm and inviting atmosphere that he's not accustomed to experiencing.

"Uhm, morning," Bucky responds, still adjusting to the unexpected scene.

You take a recorder out of your pocket, explaining your idea from the previous night. "I thought ahead and recorded myself reading several children's stories," you explain. "There may be times when I can't be here to read to you, so this way, you'll always have something to listen to."

Bucky's eyes widen in surprise, impressed by your foresight. "Thank you," he murmurs sincerely.

"You want to try listening to it?" you offer, extending the recorder and a pair of earphones to Bucky. "Let me know if it's not good."

"Sure," Bucky replies, accepting your earphones and recorder. With a nod of appreciation, he puts on the earphones and presses the play button, eager to hear your recorded stories.

As Bucky listens to the recorded stories, he notices something unexpected—the faint sound of your breath in the background, almost as if you're beside him.

Intrigued by the intimate detail, Bucky finds himself drawn into the story, eager to experience the magic of your storytelling once again.

"Once upon a time, in a land of eternal winter, there lived a lonely snowflake named Frosty," the recording begins, your voice gentle and soothing. "Frosty longed for companionship, but no matter where he drifted, he found himself alone in the icy wilderness,-."

As Bucky continues to listen to your story, he finds himself growing increasingly relaxed. The soothing cadence of your voice and the gentle rhythm of your breath lull him into a state of tranquility.

Suddenly, his eyelids begin to droop, and he feels an overwhelming heaviness wash over his body. Before he can even register what's happening, his vision blurs, and everything fades into darkness.

You watch in shock as Bucky loses balance, the earphones slipping from his ears. "Bucky!" you exclaim, rushing to his side.

In just two short minutes of listening to your story, Bucky's body dropped to the floor.

Concerned, you gently shake him, trying to rouse him from his sudden slumber. "Bucky, wake up!" you urge, but he remains unresponsive.

Panicked, you quickly check his pulse and breathing, relieved to find that he's still alive, albeit deeply asleep.

As you try to process what just happened, you can't help but wonder—did your story really have that much of an impact on him, or is there something else going on with Bucky's health?

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bettdraws · 2 months

Text

This is a wild Elucien headcanon…

but please imagine Lucien being in a really dangerous situation with the Autumn court, like something happened and they have him as a prisoner, or unable to leave.

And Elain is there listening to how Lucien could potentially be held captive in a cold cell or even tortured.

And shes there when Eris says the only way to save him is if he has real ties to the Night Court or if he officially becomes a member, and the only way to do that is if he gets mated/married to someone from there, not anyone, but the High Lady’s sister.

And everyone is outraged with what he is suggesting but Elain is suddenly quiet.

And she suddenly says “I will do it” and everyone gapes at her, some try to talk her out of it (possibly Feyre or Nesta) but Rhys just nods.

And they send notice to the Autumn court that they cannot harm Lucien because he is a Night Court citizen, but Beron doesn’t believe it, he demands that Elain goes there so he can determine it.

Chaos, outrage, but she agrees, and she obviously doesn’t go alone. She convinces herself that while she doesn’t owe Lucien anything, she is tired of the bloodshed, the loss, and if she has the power in her hands, she will act. That is all, she couldn’t care less about him. She convinces herself she would be this worried for anyone that is close to her sister, it’s not because shes worried and scared and petrified of something bad happening to him.

They’re in the Forest House, they bring out Lucien who is luckily generally unharmed but Elain looks at the binds in his wrists and her whole body reacts to the sudden urge to protect. Beron takes one sniff at them and knows it is true. They’re mates. But Beron says an unfulfilled mating bond is not valid (listen idk about these fae laws bear with me) they need to marry. Elain declares that was the plan all along. Lucien is shocked. (I just imagine what must be going through his head seeing his mate stand before Beron in the same room where Jesminda was killed)

They let Lucien go with his mate but they have to stay in the Forest House until everything gets resolved. Elain and Lucien are shoved into a room, no more chains on him, but he doesn’t understand any of it.

Both of them are standing awkwardly in the room. Lucien is staring at her as if she has grown ears, still shocked, still reliving moments, furious at them for being so dumb as to risk themselves for him. He supposed he really was a big asset for Rhys to have done this. But her… why was she here? Why did she put herself in this position?

“Did they make you do this?” He says through his teeth.

She muses on what to say. “No” she gets offended with the assumption that she can’t make decisions for herself. “I agreed to this and came on my own free will”

“Why would you do such a thing?”

“Because I’m tired of people dying, I wouldn’t forgive myself if I could have done something” A silence and for some forsaken reason Elain has the need to add. “This doesn’t mean what you think it means”

Something irks at Lucien then, and the awoken nerves on his body make him respond to that. “And please tell, Lady, what do I think it means?”

Elain clenches her fists. “That I’ve changed my mind about you… about this” She signals between them. “This is just temporary, out of necessity”

Lucien just stares at her.

“I never entertained that you did, I can assure you.” It is easier to turn on her, on this beautiful female that is putting herself at risk for him, than to be hurt at the continuing rejection from her. “You’ve always just assumed that I’m some brute fae that wants to steal you away, let me tell you now that we’re speaking frankly, that its not the case. I can’t control the pull from the bond, but I have no interest in pursuing a female who doesn’t want me”

That sends Elain to retaliate. “What about the gifts then, was that not pursuing?” She cocks her head arrogantly.

“I was bringing them to Feyre as well. That was me being polite, but guess you don’t know the first thing about that”

“You are one to talk about politeness when I’m here risking my life for your neck and this is how you treat me” She takes one step closer.

“I never asked you to do it” He mirrors her and steps closer with his broad hands clenched in fists.

“I will just let you die next time then”

“Fine by me, as long as I don’t have to endure you shoving it on my face”

“Asshole”

“I’ve been called worse” A sly, angry smile creeps at one corner of his mouth. She suddenly realizes they’re breathing on each other’s face.

“And all this time I thought you were a gentleman” She summons her anger to keep focused.

“You will learn I can be a gentleman, Elain” Her name on his lips, for the first time. “But I can be so much worse too”

His breath is hot on her face, their hearts already beating fast.

“You admit you were pretending then, to win me over”

A sharp breathy laugh from him. “If I wanted to win you over, I would not have tried to be gentle”

Her lips form a thin line as she holds herself, the pull, his words, the sudden effect of his mismatched gaze intense on her face.

“You shouldn’t have done this” He says quietly, roughly, his eyes showing something beyond just annoyance, she sees the fear in them. She pushes it back.

“What’s done is done” She says. “We will pretend, see this through, and then we’re done”

“Alright, dove”

She’s startled. Her nostrils flare. She ignores the outrageous pet name he just used on her. “I’m going to take a bath, I suggest you do the same, you stink” She begins to walk away and stops herself “I mean after I’m done” She frowns as she strolls away.

He watches her with sudden amusement.

He’s scared, hes pissed and hurt. He’s tired. But something inside him sparks, and he can’t really put a name to it.

Oh he’s not alright.

#guys im not a writer but I had to put this out there #if youre a writer PLEASE TAKE THIS I NEED IT #elucien #pro elucien #marriage of convenience #the best trope im sorry #pro lucien vanserra #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #elain x lucien #autumn court drama #elucien headcanon #elucien one shot #elain and lucien banter will EAT

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absurd-ash · 5 months

Note

Hi there, would you be willing to write headcannons for Redson and Wukong with a female S/O who due to a magic accident turned back into a kid temporarily?

Hope that makes sense lol, also if you don't want to do this request that's fine! (Plus I'm sorry if two characters are too much, you can pick whoever)

Partner Turned Back Into A Kid

{Redson & Wukong x FemReader}

His first priority is getting you back to normal, but when he hears that its only temporary and he just has to wait, he still doesn't calm down

You bet this man is pacing back and forth across the room, muttering to himself about why of all people it had to be you to be turned back into a kid

If you were a chaotic kid, that would only make him panic more

He would be ordering bull clones left and right to get you things and stuff so he didnt have to take his sights off of you

But if you were more of a calm kid he would relax more

dont get me wrong, he would definitely still be in panic mode, but...not as much as before

He would be more comfortable letting you out of his sights as long as there were bull clones around, ready to save you from whatever life or death situation you would find yourself in

His home is dangerous after all, there's literally traps and lava left and right

He would definitely make it a priority to make his house more baby-proof after this, just in case

If you would ever ask to play a game with him, he would agree, but his priority would be keeping you safe

He would refuse to ever play hide and seek or tag with you, those were way too dangerous

But he would be fine with playing

after you would turn back to normal this man would be clingy

He would have his arms wrapped around you, not letting you leave for even a second

Completely unlike RedSon, this man would not be panicking at all

Instead, he would be dying at how cute he thinks you are as a kid

You bet this man is taking pictures of you left and right, are they for blackmail or just because he thinks you look cute as a kid? You decide

He doesn't panic as much as RedSon, I mean, dont get me wrong he does panic, but he knows you'll turn back eventually

If you were a chaotic kid, oh boy, you'll never hear the end of it

After you turned back and you two would be fighting over something like who would do the dishes or something, he would definitely bring it up

"Ugh, unbelievable, you have no idea what I went through when you turned back into a kid! And now, you're making me do even more work?"

He doesn't actually mean it, he loved seeing your little kid form running back and forth, giggling while making several messes he would have to clean later

Okay, maybe he didnt love the mess part, but still!

On the other hand, if you were a more reserved and quiet kid, he would find that even more adorable!

How you would shyly walk up to him to ask him to play a game with you, or shyly show him a drawing you made

His favorite game to play with you would be when you would pretend to be a princess while he pretends to be a knight, saving you

When you turn back to normal, you won't be able to get him to shut up about how "cute and adorable" you were as a kid

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

Sorry this took so long! I really liked the idea I just couldnt figure out how to write it. anyway, requests are open again! Feel free to request some stuff!

#x reader #lego monkie kid #lmk x reader #lmk sun wukong #sun wukong x reader #lmk #lmk red son #lmk redson #redson x reader

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bananabeebenson · 10 months

Note

Romcom kind of idea: Helmeppo and Garp takes Koby drinking to relax since next day they have to start training some new recruits. At the bar Koby see a pretty lady and get pushed by the other two older marines for him to go talk to her. After talking, drinking and maybe even a little make out session with the lady, Koby goes home all relaxed and happy. Next day, still with a little hangover, Koby goes to talk with the new recruits just to spot who in the crowd? Cute lady!!!! And she looks just as surprised as him. What now?

Pairing: Koby x Reader

Warnings: None (SFW/Fluff and some awkward Koby)

Word Count: 1,940

Fic is under the cut

Requests are open

Koby should have known this was going to be a mistake.

Garp, the famous Hero of the Navy, had pulled only a handful of strings in pulling his two apprentices away from Marineford to an island only half an hour’s travel away, where a ‘perfect bar was calling them’. Koby had been trying to ignore their insistence that he join them. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t have enjoyed the idea of a couple of drinks possibly in the house, or Garp’s own tab, it was that the next day they would find themselves training their first new wave of Recruits. Koby and Helmeppo had struggled to get as far as they had come, fighting through tribulations and their own self-inflicted doubts to get to the point they were. Not to mention the thin ice they sometimes found themselves on due to their light association with Luffy D. Monkey. Not that they would complain. Garp’s name would usually be enough to back off most who threw doubts their way, or their own accomplishments they’ve managed in most locations. This had put them in good enough graces to finally take on a small group of new recruits to be trained. It wouldn’t be permanent, like Garp with them, but more so a temporary thing to last only a few months before they would be split apart and shipped off to different areas. Some would remain in Marineford, but not many.

“Come on.” Helmeppo spoke, tilting his head to the side just as the boat rocked to the right a little too hard. It wasn’t a Navy ship like they were used to, more so a simple Ferry built to withstand the waves of the Grand Line. It wasn’t something built to go for several days or harbor hundreds, thus it rocked in uneven motions, tossing the people who weren’t prepared for it back and forth. Compared to others, they were holding on just fine, with Koby’s hands gripping the side of the boat. He still couldn’t believe they had managed to convince him to come along. Maybe he was more stressed than he had realized over the situation.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” It wasn’t bitter, but he was pouting in a strangely young way, something to remind Helmeppo just how young the two of them were compared to others out here. He huffed.

“Don’t look so guilty and miserable about it. You’re acting like we kidnapped you at gunpoint or something.”

“You both threatened to, and I quote, carry me out here anyways. I don’t think I had much of a choice.” His smile was weary, small on his face. His goggles fell suddenly from a sharp rock and he steadied them back to the top of his head.

“Well, you needed to get out.” Helmeppo said. He nodded, agreeing with himself and propped up against the railing. Koby knew when he was fighting a losing argument, so he resigned himself to simply enjoy the quiet he would have before arriving.

The bar was definitely crowded with young, new faces that Koby had never seen before. Some older Marines, people he had seen around Marineford, were also there and nursing harder drinks in their reclusive corners. Garp and Helmeppo wouldn’t leave Koby alone, much to his own simmering annoyance. It wasn’t that he wasn’t unthankful nor wished for a lonely presence, but he did wish for some quieter drinking company. His own drink was fruity and light, something he could enjoy at least while he watched everyone around him continue to grow louder and louder.

Then, he spotted you.

It was a creeping feeling. A sudden realization that he had been staring at you as you laughed at something another person said, your own drink also being softly nursed with small sips. He didn’t even notice his staring or how he was acknowledging how you snorted into your hand when you laughed a little too hard until Helmeppo had noticed he was zoned out and no longer listening. Bending over his shoulder he looked over and grinned something broad and dangerous.

“Oh, spot you someone?” Koby jerked into a stiff seated position and quickly looked away from you, red burning across his cheeks. Garp’s attention was immediately dragged over when he tried to stutter an excuse, one that had Helmeppo smirking.

“What’s wrong? Got tongue-tied or something from a beautiful lady?” Garp slapped a hard hand onto Koby’s shoulder and his weaker drink was spilled, the shattering of the glass covered by the loud atmosphere of the crowd around. “I thought you learned how to talk to someone like that from me already. Or did you?” Garp shook his head and delivered another harsh slap, knocking him from the seat.

“Go talk to her.” Helmeppo said. “She doesn’t look like she’s here with anyone.”

Koby choked on a response to them and found himself urged away, shooed off with waves and hollering that followed his ever growing reddening ears. You were still where you were though, as they had said, you were alone. Whoever you had been talking to had moved on, perhaps to another face, and you were still nursing your own drink, twisting the straw that stuck out of it. You were dressed formally. No, not formally, but better than he was in his casual clothing that had been thrown to the back of his closet, almost forgotten about until this time. He felt underdressed compared to you and it made him hesitate even further. But the shame of what Garp and Helmeppo would do if he returned without at least attempting to speak to you far out-weighed any nerves of his attire, so he swallowed nerves down deep and approached you with the first thing he could say.

“I like the color of your shoes.”

He was doomed.

You blinked up at him in confusion, poised for a sip you would abandon in return for eyeing the man before you. Koby remained unmoving, hands sweating and flexing in his pockets as he tried to maintain some calm atmosphere about him.

Then you laughed.

“Well, I’m glad I suppose. I like them too.” You looked him over once, twice, then shifted on the seating you had been perched on. A bench, definitely meant for outside, had been pulled in. “Did you come over here to speak only about my shoes or….”

He definitely did not.

“I-I came over to talk to a pretty lady like you.” Garp would have been proud of his word choice, but the ever flustered Koby was slowly curling in on himself, turning away to hide his embarrassment. You found it charming. Cute, in a way, and masked your giggle around the rim of your cup.

“Well, aren’t you a charmer?” You asked. The teasing tone did urge him to look at you and you were so nice when you spoke. Up close like this he got to smell the perfume you had on, something sweet to lure him in a bit closer, which helped to ease up his nerves. “You look a little uncomfortable though. You sure that’s why you’re over here?”

Busted.

“I-It isn’t that I don’t want to talk to you. My friends just, ah, they saw me looking at you and just, well.” He choked and you fought your grin until he found his words. “They…wanted me to try talking to you.”

“I’m glad.” He blinked, looked you over once, then blinked again. “No, really. I promise, my friends dragged me out here too for some celebration I’m not even a part of. Or, well, I don’t want to be a part of.” You spared a glance to a gathered group of young, fresh faces to the far side and he followed it. They were drinking heavily, a few encouraging the others as fresh shots of something strong and smelly passed around. You lightly cringed around your own fruity drink, something Koby would have liked.

“You were dragged out too?” He relaxed a bit more then, finding you in a similar situation. “Well…guess we have no choice but to keep each other company then, right?”

Keeping each other company turned into a few drinks. A few drinks turned into a couple shots, bought by the beaming Garp who raised his own glass. And a few laughs and stories shared between the two of you turned into shoulders brushing. Then it turned into him helping you to a corner where there was less light to try and fix your shoe, which had broken when you stood to get a drink.

Then it turned into a drunken spur of the moment kiss that evolved into more than one.

Maybe he should have paid attention to the facts you spoke, but he hadn’t drank in a long time and it was definitely potent when it settled. These kisses you shared were sweet and warm. A breath of fresh air to the cold reprise of Marinfore, and he was sighing into them whenever you both broke apart. He was respectful of any boundaries you had and you were respectful that he was still intoxicated, so your touches were restrained. Held back to simply brushes of fingers on fingers, or fingertips touching at the shoulders or bottom of the kneecap. The kisses continued on, the sounds of the background falling apart, it all became too much and when you finally pulled back, head lightly spinning, a hand clasped onto Koby’s shoulder.

Garp.

“It’s getting late.” He stated, a gruff voice rough from his drinks and a couple of smoke breaks he had taken with others in the Marines. Koby blinked up at him in confusion before you seemed to put the pieces together. Garp was charming with his smile, but he was also aware of how late it had actually gotten. Koby seemed to want to disagree, but your hand on his wrist distracted him briefly as you agreed.

“You should head back. I have a few things to take care of tomorrow too.” You looked down at your person and frowned. “I…don’t have a way to communicate, but I could meet you back here tomorrow night? If that’s okay?”

That was more than okay in his eyes.

Then, nothing. He was on the rocking boat, listening to Helmeppo tease him about the “loving eyes” he had been shooting you, all blitzed out of his mind from his drinks, but he didn’t care. Garp didn’t speak much on anything, enjoying the cooler evening air and soft sounds of the Ocean. Then he was in bed, curled into his pillow and still remembering your perfume, the taste of your sweet drink on your lips, and how soft your hand was on his.

He slept with a smile on his face.

That smile would be abruptly taken the next morning, when he was dressed in uniform and standing at the end of a long lineup of people, all dressed in similar uniforms. They all looked similar. Young, fresh, and new to the Marines. Similar to how he had been long ago when he had first joined, except there was an issue. Standing in exactly row five, three to the left stood a familiar, equally shocked face.

You. There stood you, with your eyes wide and mouth partially open at the realization of what had happened the previous night. Helmeppo, thankfully, hadn’t recognized you or he would have never heard the end of it. Garp wasn’t there, busy with something else that these two were to handle.

‘Well.’ He thought, looking away with his ears a vibrant pink once again. ‘At least I won’t have to meet you there tonight.’

#one piece x reader #requests are open #one piece x y/n #requested #koby x reader #one piece koby

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obae-me · 10 months

Text

Cravings

Hii, this is a little off brand for me (but not by much, Lucifer is essentially my brand) but I needed to write some vampire Lucifer.

I'm sorry if this is poorly written, as much as I wish it were so, I feel like I absolutely suck (vampire pun not intended) writing some more...spicy stuff.

Anyways, this is fairly suggestive so minors begone.

18+ Only

CW: Biting, blood, suggestive language. The stuff that comes with vampires, ya know? Second Person fic. Gender neutral. Lucifer's very needy in this, not sorry about it.

(Based off the event, not an AU)

Despite the absolute absurdity of the idea that demons could transfer and turn into vampires as easily as humans spread sinus infections, you’d learned to roll with it. After all, this was just a single drop in the bucket of all the crazy things you’d seen. The brothers recovering from their quarantine were still giving you a wide berth, typically sprinting away from you before temptations got the better of them. However, there was one demon-turned-vampire that seemed to be struggling the hardest.

Lucifer- rather than take the responsibility upon himself- ordered you to stay away. He was not to be approached, talked to, sought after, etc. You were to leave well enough alone. While there were several things you wanted to say to that, you respected his wishes. Although, it’s not like you could stay out of the House. You still had your attendant duties to work on. Which meant, despite your best efforts, you’d spot him down the hall or pass him in the kitchen. Every time his eyes landed on you, he looked furious, frightened, but then all of that melted away quickly and blossomed into a blush. That’s when you knew exactly why he didn’t want to see you. Seems that he couldn’t control his pride as easily in this vampiric condition. His footsteps would turn towards you, his hands twitching in your direction, and then he would strut away from you, off towards the darkness.

And that’s the way it continued for a while. Little flickers of fleeting moments with softly uttered names and melting gazes. You knew what he wanted, you weren’t stupid. Yet…you had half a mind to give it to him.

You weren’t exactly wandering the halls for him at this time of night, just checking to make sure the House was…in proper order before you would have to leave that night. Bumping into Lucifer as you turned the corner of the upper floor potentially in the direction of his bedroom was just a…happy accident. Although, the vampire in question seemed upset at first. His hands couldn’t help but reach towards your shoulders to steady you. In a proper Prideful manner, he furrowed his brows and opened his mouth to give you a stern scolding. You could see his little temporary fangs peeking out below his top lip. “I told you-” he started to say, his voice almost cracking with strain. He cleared his throat and his tone deepened. “I told you to stay away.”

Some force deep inside you caused a smirk to curl on your lips. “And I assure you, I’m doing my utmost to avoid you, but you seem to keep finding me. I wonder why that is?”

The expression painted over his face suggested he didn’t find this situation as humorous as you did, although there was still a little rosy color adorning his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. The hands that settled on your shoulders moved forward slowly, the curves of his fingers reaching back to your shoulder blades. This gentle touch was in direct contrast to the growl in his voice. He was trying much too hard… “Your foolishness is getting out of hand. I would’ve thought even someone as idiotic as you had the better sense to stay away from a vampire.”

You hummed in a bit of disappointment at his words, but then you shrugged your shoulders. “You know...you have this awful habit of using bitter words to cover up your feelings.” Your hand lifted to rest against his chest. Air seemed to catch in his throat as you did so. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest. “So sensitive like this…” You teased him. “Why don’t you just tell me what you really feel?”

It was almost as if you could feel him melting in your hands. This whole cold and dominant persona was just a smokescreen trying to cover up the fact that he was craving you and desperate for it. His eyes slowly fluttered as the stern features to his body language chipped away. He whispered your name in a heavy breath, leaning a little forward before stopping himself. Little twitches in his fingertips and the shudder in his lungs clued you in to how close he was to breaking. However, his pride was not fully gone it seemed. You both were still out in the hallway and he was hesitant to lose himself where others could see. He went to stand back up straight, moving away from you, but you stopped him with a hand curling back around his neck, forcing your foreheads to touch. That seemed to be the last thing he could handle. His breath was practically a pant now. Without saying another word, he picked you up in all his demonic strength and shut you and him inside his bedroom, pressing you up against the bedroom door. His nose rubbed against your cheek. It was taking everything in him to resist this, you knew that much.

“I…” His voice wavered. “I need you.” There was a dulcet tone to his words, his voice laced with a feathery softness. “I told myself I was simply content with looking at you, but…” That confirmed things for you. Your little meetings weren’t by accident. He’d been intentionally seeking you out to stare at you for a moment before scurrying off. “But I…can’t handle this…ache any longer.” His face lowered, his breath hot as his mouth hovered over the exposed part of your neck. He was so close, so hungry, and yet, he waited. “Do…I have permission?” A simple statement meant to come off as professional, but came off as a beg.

There was a sort of pride that built up in your chest at the thought of being this wanted, this needed. A pleasureful sort of smugness at hearing Lucifer Morningstar nearly whine for something as simple as a taste of your blood. “Yes,” you replied, your body warm.

His fingers went up to the back of your head, his grasp carefully tightening around your hair as he pulled your head aside, exposing your neck more. Lucifer held his breath in excitement, his soft lips kissing different areas of your skin before he found his preferred spot. No matter your thoughts or fears about pain, being bitten by a vampire wasn’t terrible at all. You felt the pinch, but shortly after, a comforting heat pooled in your body, as if you could feel a remedy pumping through your veins. The heat was followed by a tingling, your body almost numb to the pain yet extremely sensitive to other sensations. You gasped his name aloud which made him visibly squirm.

You could tell the punctures were deep, blood trickling out of you from the wounds, but immediately being sucked away and swallowed. A low rumble came from the base of Lucifer’s throat, the sound rising in pitch till it almost became a needy whine. For a moment, it seemed as if his knees went weak, but he continued to drink, the hand in your hair moving to the middle of your back, pulling you closer to him. He pulled away from your skin to refill his lungs in a gasp before biting you again in a different spot. You weren’t sure if he was too enamored to speak or too embarrassed to, but you hoped from the little moans that reverberated in his chest like purrs meant that you tasted good.

He was gentle with it, kissing you in the spots he bit like little apologies. No blood touched your clothes either. Any drop you felt trailing down your skin was quickly lapped up by his tongue. Your name was muttered a few times in a breathy way in the few occasions his mouth was away from your body. His thighs rubbed against yours as he seemed to try to sink further into you, his knee almost pressed up between your legs.

For a long while, it was just you both nearly entangled in each other against his door, your breathing slowly falling into sync with his. His first frantic drinks were now slowly winding down. He was calming, taking you in tenderly now, appreciating every drop, every taste. His hand moved from your back to cup your cheek as he traced your jaw in kisses as he cooed before going back to your blood. He finally stopped feeding when he could tell you were having a hard time standing upright which wasn't entirely due to blood loss. A few last pecks from his red-stained lips and licks from his grateful tongue seemed to seal up your wounds but still leave marks which he traced over with the tip of his finger, proud of his work. He lifted you up into his arms and over to the couch where you both could rest, his face still resting in the crook of your neck, his new favorite place.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x mc

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