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#so that’s kind of worrisome
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kinda wild to me that one of the most compelling aspects of both Chuuya and Kunikida's characters to me, that I never really see talked about, is how they're heavily set on a doomed crash course towards complete and utter destruction, and how I am so, so worried for them both.....
#bungou stray dogs#been thinking a lot about chuuya lately (shocking for me i know (said with no sarcasm truly lmao it is rare for me))#cause of the 15 manga and also playing the fucking jeht quest in genshin impact ugh (where's the one dual genshin bsd fan who Understands)#but like this pressure has been building up for chuuya for so long due to being used and manipulated by all these people#first the sheep then mori then verlaine then still mori now#he was groomed since childhood just like dazai#but unlike dazai he didn't have an oda to help him get out of the mafia........ he's still stuck there#and his personality is different from dazai's. dazai was more self-aware imo (but still a groomed emotionally abused kid don't get me wrong#but chuuya's whole thing is needing to belong and wanting a leader to be loyal to but ending up in positions of leadership himself#which makes him feel pressured but he accepts and stifles any negative feelings just because he wants to belong#and all this crushed him with the events in the light novels and yeah he went through character growth but he's...... Still In The Mafia...#and that fucking scene asagiri added to the cannibalism stage play i don't think hardly anyone even knows about bc IT'S NOT DISCUSSED ANYMO#where mori emotionally manipulates him with the flags!!! and it deeply hurts him!!! and he presumably deals with that shit all the time!!!#it is WORRISOME. it WORRIES ME okay.#chuuya doesn't have anyone who can save him from the mafia (dazai is in no position to okay; it's all he can do just to try to save himself#and it's so so scary. it spells awful things for him.#didn't asagiri say he'd have a rough path or something??? and he added that fucking scene in the play!!! it haunts me!!#i fully expected this shit to hit a turning point in the meursault arc but we can't have nice things i guess#and as for kunikida a;lskdfl (took me this long to get to him oop) literally the ending of Entrance Exam (the novel) is just#One Big Foreshadowing for Kunikida's downfall#he's compared to the azure king for a reason. Sasaki saw the azure king in him for a reason. it's fucking worrying!!!!!#there hasn't really been anything like that since in the manga (just like for chuuya lol ugh) but he's TERRIBLE at coping with his trauma#and it only gets more apparent once shit hit the fan in the doa/hunting dogs/meursault arc#it's not good!!! i'm worried for kunikida too!!!!#even if the manga isn't focusing on this these worries are always in the back of my mind man#both kunikida and chuuya are doomed to hit some kind of breaking point eventually and i await those moments with dread yet anticipation#i want dazai to be able to save kunikida from the despair being too good a person brings the way he couldn't save oda#and chuuya.... if we get a scene with him & mori mirroring the one in dark era where dazai finds out that mori orchestrated the kids' death#oh man i think i'll fucking die (give it to me i need to cry)
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homicidalbrunette · 6 months
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This clip has everything
- an hilarious bit of shade exchange about Queen of the Universe being cancelled and then about the Trixie and Katya show being cancelled and why
- a deep cut Ghost reference
- that Trixie motel season two is about them moving and renovating a new house
- How (as she says herself) she had to pack up her house, renovate a new one and move in all within a month while filming a reality tv show about it
- Doing all this while also doing all her other multiple projects
- During what we know now as when she was already spiralling, thus causing her to have a breakdown
- Katya going suddenly serious with a rather concerned and dubious opinion about this
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opens-up-4-nobody · 6 months
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...
#its crazy how much easier it is to do things when youre not completely miserable lol#this past week has been weird bc ive felt really really good and like normal in a way thats kinds unfathomable#im hoping its the medication but my mood was already on an upward tilt and i was told it would take like 6 weeks for the meds to work#property but like ive been sleeping way more than usual. and by that i literally just mean 8hrs a night lol which is weird for me#like that never ever ever happens multiple days in a row. so idk. when i feel better it makes the 0cd way easier to manage as well#and im just generally not as anxious. on the more worrisome side i kinda just give less of a fuck so like i have an exam im not ready for#Tuesday and im just kinda like hm fuck that lol. ill go thru lil fluctuations of having a lot of energy too#like: i could run around in circles rn. i dont have to but i could. like yesterday i was out with friends and i was like bouncing up and#down while standing and rocking from side to side while sitting. which i kinda do anyway while in crowds but it was more to expend energy#last night i also got like 5hrs of sleep. so like maaaaybe ive been on the bleeding edge of mood elevation but for the most part it just#feels good and not destructive. like if i felt like this all the time that would b fantastic. its like oh so this is y ppl dont long to b#put out of their misery lol. depression? who? i dont kno her. sounds fake. but as soon as i fucking say that ill b fucking slapped back#down to earth. ugh. annoying. no emotional object permanence. i hope its the meds. if this is the person i am under layers of misery then#that is fucking so insane. we shall see. im curious to hear what the psychiatrist thinks of my brain when i follow up with her#i gave her my full dys1exia assessment which gives a pretty good picture of how my head functions. oh fuck i bet i would do waaaayyy better#on thise test if i took it in this state of mind. but anyway she has that on top of like 3 assessment sheets i filled out#dispite everything i still want someone to categorize me into a discreet box. tell me doc. am i really bip0lar? really really?#ur sure??? like 1000% sure bc my brain wont let me accept that unless its beyond a reasonable doubt. i just doesn't seem that serious.#i mean. it is but like ya kno. its not that bad. ay. this glob of mush behind my eyes runs me in circles#but for now thats ok bc i feel like i could run up a mountain or punch someone in the face lol#unrelated
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thedeviljudges · 10 months
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astrxealis · 1 year
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read. a translation of the audio drama and i haven't listened to it yet so idk just HOW exactly it is just wow i am. wow
#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#⋯ ꒰ა milgram ໒꒱ *·˚#eyebrows furrowed (idk how to explain this emotion. this feeling)#this is so complex... complicated...... i honestly am not sure anymore. i think fuuta deserves to be forgiven but?#the thing is he's. wow. he found out the deal with milgram which is impressive#and he's the kind of guy who puts up a sort of 'front'. and tbh the 'excuses' he makes are very understandable#<- single guy who takes the blame for the sins of many#the thing is that he still doesn't yk... but he obviously feels guilty even if he keeps denying that he /killed/ them#yeah this 2nd trial for fuuta is more on his guilt and his yk towards himself and to es and to milgram#fuuta. what an interesting character for real#i'm a bit scared honestly bcs i think if he's voted 'guilty' he might... commit yk#the line he drew over his picture in the mv w the rest of them. a red line crossing his neck. yeah#but being voted guilty restrains you physically and mentally right? that's why i'm fine w voting haruka guilty#but i'm still conflicted about that too ngl but ultimately innocent -> guilty -> innocent works for him. but idk for fuuta...#guilty -> innocent -> innocent imo. maybe guilty -> guilty -> innocent but i don't really think so but idk#the thng is rn i'm doing the exact thing es and fuuta fought for (?). not in an entertainment way bcs i'm yk eyebrows furrowed and all#but in a way that i'm still. partaking in deciding the fates of these characters. do i even have the right to?#especially with regard to fuuta for me considering i see myself in him. just not as stubborn and in denial.#so interesting and worrisome and. wow. milgram is so genius#i sincerely doubt milgram will have any sort of happy ending... i wonder what are the possibilities the writers planned for?
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avatar-aaang · 2 years
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had a breakdown but then remembered it's after 9pm and while I think I was correct, I can better reassess post sleep and food
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exoexid · 6 months
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looking at these facial reconstructions they make for neanderthals always makes me so emotional, they make them look so kind 🥹💗
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reaperkaneki · 8 months
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also i went to the urgent care the other day to see if i could get this lingering uti checked out and they were like lol actually either wait three hours that you dont have or just do a virtual visit. and yhen wait. and im like welp. guess ill try again next week bc i …. work the whole weekend and i probably wont have time to go to a clinic again until next saturday (!)
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sttoru · 1 month
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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you leave megumi with your husband so you can make them breakfast. you quickly realise that that might have backfired.
wc. around 1.3k
tags. dad!toji x wife!female reader. fluff. reader gets called ‘mama’ by both toji & megumi. half beta read.
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“ow, careful there, brat.”
your husband’s deep voice echoes from within the bathroom. you’ve left megumi in his care this morning so you’d be able to make breakfast in peace. toji was all grumpy about it, since he had to wake up early when he had no work, but eventually agreed to your proposal.
you hum your favorite song while frying eggs. the sizzling in the pan did help avert your attention from toji’s grunts of annoyance somewhere in the distance, though only for a couple seconds. your hear your child’s laughter slip between the noises of aggravation. it piques your interest.
“one more time and i’m putting y’r ass in time out,” toji’s deep voice sounds muffled. he sounds rather serious about whatever is bothering him.
you turn the stove off and walk towards the hallway, standing at the doorframe as you look in the direction of the bathroom. you tilt your head and try your best to pick up on snippets of the conversation between your husband and son.
the sound of bottles dropping on the floor is the first thing that allows you to guess that megumi’s acting up. you know how mischievous your little toddler can get, especially at his age. toji isn’t one to gentle parent his kid—he tries to, of course, but sometimes he can’t help but be a bit rough.
“megumi fushiguro.”
you raise your eyebrows as toji uses your child’s full name. he rarely does, only when he’s really upset or about to lose his marbles. you decide to see what was going on for yourself. you walk towards the bathroom, cleaning your hands against the material of your apron. you knock once before pushing the door open.
you stick your head through the little gap, ready to identify the cause of the commotion. the first thing you notice is the chaos on the floor; bottles, tubes, toothbrushes, and all other kinds of products lay cluttered on the bathroom tiles.
your eyes then land on your husband’s broad and scarred back, “hey, honey. did something hap—”
your voice trails off once toji turns around, revealing the jaw dropping scene. nearly his entire face is covered in loads of shaving cream and even his black hair hasn’t escaped the soft foam.
the bathroom counter is completely wet, and the water runs down the edges in small drops. the culprit of this entire scene is sitting right on that same counter, clapping his dirty hands together that were smeared with toji’s shaving cream.
you blink and walk towards the two. you can’t possibly be mad at the sight, finding toji’s situation more funny than worrisome. You try to act serious and clear your throat, “uh, yeah. so what’s happened here?”
your husband rolls his eyes and nods his head at the little boy in front of him, who’s giggling and kicking his legs. toji tries to wipe the shaving cream from his nose, attempting to get it out of his hair as well, “i tried to be a good dad and include him in my morning routine, that’s what.”
the man clicks his tongue as he now realises how dumb of a mistake that was, “gave him the opportunity to put some shaving foam on my jaw ‘n the brat totally blew it. started attackin’ me with the stuff.”
toji grumbles. he wipes away the foam that got on the mirror afterwards. it’s nearly gotten everywhere. he lightly nudges megumi’s forehead with a scoff, “never again, y’hear? the little shit can’t sit still for even one second.”
that explains the stuff on the floor. you know that megumi could grow bored easily if he isn’t the centre of attention. he’d start doing anything to be the focus of his parents. toji probably didn’t pay him much mind, wanting to get his morning routine over with.
“language, honey.” you sigh and look down at megumi who’s still reaching his messy hands up to his dad.
toji huffs and leans back, not giving the little boy a chance to put more shaving cream on his face. he’s learnt his lesson; kids do not understand it when you tell them to ‘only put a little bit’.
megumi whines and threatens to throw a tantrum. you notice that immediately and try to keep his mind off things by picking him up. you turn on the faucet and try to wash his little hands, “c’mon. give mama your hands.”
the little boy shakes his head furiously, squirming in your embrace in attempt to get away. you sigh and grab his little wrists gently. you lower him to the sink, trying your best to wash away the shaving cream as the first step of solving this grande mess.
“no, mama!” megumi is stubborn as he voices his complains. toji watches from a distance whilst he struggles to clean the overload of shaving cream from his face.
you make the mistake of letting go of your child’s wrists to grab a washcloth. megumi takes his chance and pats his messy hands against your face, leaving you no space to process what he’s doing.
your mind takes a second before you realise what’s happening, “hey! quit it, ‘gumi.”
you try to grab ahold of megumi’s tiny hands again, but they move too fast for you. plus, he’s pretty skilled at avoiding yours. you can feel the foam slowly cover your entire face; from your jaw and cheeks, to your nose and forehead.
it was inevitable at this point.
“toji, do something,” you grunt and struggle to contain the energetic toddler in your arms. you take a peek at your husband and find him grinning at the predicament you’ve gotten yourself in.
toji simply shrugs and enjoys the fact that you’re experiencing exactly what he had experienced just moments ago. seeing you struggle to contain your disobedient child only proves that his parenting skills are not the problem in this situation, your toddler is.
“ye did that to y’rself, mama.” toji hums in amusement. he leans against the wall, the blue towel now loosely hanging off head after he’s given up on getting the foam out of his hair, “now y’know what i’m talkin’ about. he’s a lil’ monster.”
megumi squeals in victory after he’s gotten both his parents covered in shaving cream. you want to say something to your child, but you’re at a loss for words. even now, you cannot bring yourself to be mad at him. he’s just a kid who’s having fun with his parents.
“i made mama pretty! hehe.” megumi grins and encourages you to look in the mirror. he points at your reflection and awaits the words of confirmation. his blue eyes look up at you, nearly sparkling with joy, admiring how pretty he’s made you look with that white foam all over your face.
toji joins in on the fun. he comes to stand behind you, looking at you through the mirror. he snickers, already forgotten about his irritations that occurred in the first place. he nods in approval at megumi’s words, “gotta agree, son. y’r mama looks much prettier like this.”
your husband’s teasing comment adds fuel to the fire. though again, you cannot bring yourself to be upset at the situation.
you look at the reflection in the dirty mirror. you all may appear disheveled due to the foamy mess on your bodies—and yet even at that moment—the only thing you actually manage to see is a happy family of three.
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thevoidstaredback · 16 days
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How To Balance Your Daytime and Nighttime Activities So That You Don't Burn Yourself Out More Than You Already Have
It had been a long few minutes since he'd opened the door and there were a lot of questions running through Dick's head. Most pressing of which was how this kid seems to have information he should not have.
"How did you..?" he asked, but the words wouldn't leave completely. There's so much he wants to know, so much he wants to ask.
"How do I what?" Danny tilted his head like the child he seems to be is.
"How do you know?" Dick knows he sounds weak. There's no hiding that, but there are a lot of implications in what the kid has said so far and none of it is painting a very happy picture for him.
"Oh!" Danny had the audacity to smile, "You want to know how I know you moonlight as a vigilante!" And of course he knows. Dick knows he knows, but he'd held a little bit of hope that the child Danny was mistaken. Danny's smile softened a bit as he explained, "Your hair and voice match up in both jobs almost perfectly. Not to mention your build and how you hold yourself. There's also the matter of your overall vibes, but that's not something living beings can normally pick up on." Excuse him? "Well, not living humans, at least, so no worries on that end!"
"Excuse me?" Dick was fairly sure his heart just stopped beating for a moment there.
"Anyway, I was a hero back home for a while, too. I know what it's like to have to walk the tightrope between maintaining a civilian cover and a hero persona. I know how it feels to have to keep secrets from everyone because anyone who knows will be in danger." he rambled, Though, admittedly, our circumstances are quite different. I was working as a hero all hours of the day as well as going to school. You only have to worry about properly balancing between day and night jobs. Either way, me having more to bounce between just makes me al the more qualified to help you!"
Oh. Oh he did not like that. He didn't like a single thing that just came out of the kid's mouth. Because that's what he is, a kid. "Are you...Are you alright?"
"Not in the slightest," Danny admitted with an even smaller smile. Then, it brightened, not quite to a grin, but to something similar, "But I'm here to make sure you are."
He gets points for being honest, but Dick felt his heart shatter. He knew for a fact that he'd never worked with this kid before. He also knew that the Justice League didn't know about him. If they did, he would've been picked up and dropped with either the Young Justice team or the Titans.
Dick wasn't going to ask why he became a hero because that's not his place. It's more of a 'third mission with the team' kind of questions, anyway. Most of the heroes didn't have many options when they took up the mantle. Asking what Danny can do is a more appropriate question, but he wasn't going to ask that, either.
"Now that that's out of the way," Danny turned a few pages from the table of contents to another one that was topped with 'Why Sleep Scheduling Is Important' in the blue glitter pen that Dick was starting to suspect he favored. "You're not getting enough sleep. Following you around - no one's been able to find me for a while, so don't worry about that - for the last two weeks has given me some really worrisome information on you."
Dick was worrying. He was worrying a lot and even more questions were coming to the forefront of his mind.
"Your dayjob is as an officer on the Bludhaven Police Force, or BPD for short." He was looking over the page he'd turned to very aptly and Dick realized that the kid had notes written on him. "The average hours per week for police across the country is forty hours. Gotham and Bludhaven are the exceptions. As a member of the BPD, you work a solid two days and two hours. Six nights a week, you work as Nightwing from eight in the evening to three in the morning. The last day, you take off, which is good. No deserable pattern, so good on you for that. Regardless, that's seven hour nights and ten hour days, with one day off and one day on call as an officer. Seven hours are now left in your day for personal time, eating, and sleeping. That's not a healthy way to live."
Oh, god, the kid had honest to god notes on him! What the hell!
Danny didn't even skip a beat as he pulled Dick's attention back to him and his binder. "I've drawn up a schedule for you to follow." The back of the page had a meticulously drawn schedule, complete with blocks of time to eat, sleep, work both jobs, travel, personal time, and still have a bit extra left over. It was titled 'Ideal End Result' in green marker. "Drastic changes right away will only affect you negatively, so we're starting off smaller." The next page over had another schedule titled 'Where To Begin'. "I've only pulled one hour from your Nightwing hours because I know important that time is to you and the city. I am, however, going to be having you submit an appeal to your boss to cut back your hours from fifty a week to forty a week. That way, you'll only be working eight hours a day and not ten. You'll still be on call for one day, and you'll have that last day off. Altogether, you'll be going be going from working seventeen hours a day to fourteen hours a day. Nine in the morning to five in the afternoon, and eight in the evening to two in the morning. Not including breaks at work or travel time. It opens up a few more hours for you to sleep!"
"You really think the chief is going to pull back my hours?" Dick raised an eyebrow in question.
"He will if he knows what's good for him."
"You know I can arrest you for that threat, right?"
"Yeah, but you won't." And, damn it, he's right.
Although, there was now another thing he had to know. "How to you plan on enforcing this schedule of yours?"
Danny seemed to have been waiting for this. He got a gleam in his eye as he pulled a black folder from his bag, not breaking eye contact with Dick. He placed it on the table and pushed it across. "Congratulations, it's a boy."
Part 1 Part 3
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cherienymphe · 2 months
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There Will Be Blood
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Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Reader x Lady Margot Fenring
Summary: Knowing that you are too afraid to ever find yourself alone with the Harkonnen heir, Lady Margot secures his heart's desire for his celebration day.
warnings: Dub-Con (use of the voice), blood, knifeplay, choking, threesome, mentions of cannibalism, non canon ages, spoiler free
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies 
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“She looks almost good enough to eat,” were the words that reached your ears in that low timbre, head tilted as he gazed at you. “I don’t know whether to feed her to my darlings…”
The feeling of his finger underneath your chin was almost nonexistent as he tilted your head up. You were too anxious to look away—his reputation preceding him—and even if you wanted to, you couldn’t. You felt paralyzed, held captive by that dark blue gaze you swore was actually black as night in certain lighting.
“…or make her one of them.”
You swallowed at that, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes followed the subtle movement.
He was referring to his ‘pets’ as you knew he sometimes called them, the three strikingly beautiful Harkonnen women with an appetite for human flesh. The thought of being killed and fed to the women in question made your heart skip a beat…but the thought of being added to his harem made you shudder.
…and you couldn’t tell if the feeling was good or bad.
Hands slid over your shoulders from behind, making you shiver again, and your lashes fluttered at the feeling of soft lips grazing your throat. You faintly tried to remember how and why you ended up here, and you could only recall staring into enticing blue eyes. Her familiar face was all that stood out in your memory, features soft and lips curved into an even softer smile. With all of that being said though, you couldn’t remember your thought process behind following her perfect figure down the hall.
Lady Margot Fenring—golden-haired and willowy with that Bene Gesserit serene repose about her that you found subtly disturbing.
Usually.
In this moment, her calm disposition and quiet authority made your heart race. She was a comforting contrast to the man before you, his intense gaze and sharp features serving to make your imagination run wild with what he was capable of. He was so different from his brother, vastly so from his uncle, but he still possessed similarities with the two that made you nervous all the same.
Especially with his hand so close to your throat.
“This one isn’t for consumption.”
Her lips brushed your skin as her soft and even tone filled your ears.
“Not in the literal sense, at least…” mirth colored her voice at this remark. “I saw you watching her.”
Those words made your heart sink, and you were sure that the brief stab of fear you felt passed through your eyes.
Feyd-Rautha was psychotic. He was the kind of man that would kill someone solely because he felt like it. He had an animalistic stare that made alarm bells go off in your head, telling you to never take your eyes off of him—to always keep him in your line of sight. He was the kind of man you couldn’t let your guard down around.
He was the kind of man you didn’t want watching you.
As if he could read your worrisome thoughts, a glint passed through the man’s eyes, and he leaned in closer. Not one to conceal his feelings in any situation, his expression twisted into one of amusement, a sight that made your hair stand on end. Those soft hands slid over your shoulders and down your arms, gently caressing them.
Don’t be afraid.
A voice that didn’t sound like your own filled your mind, its influence settling into your bones and deep into the crevices of your subconscious. You felt yourself relax, felt the tension leaving you, and her soft hum had you leaning back into her chest. You didn’t want to be afraid, and you felt confident in repeating those words to yourself, confirming that there was nothing to be afraid of.
“You want her,” her fingers grazed your jaw, briefly touching his own. “…but she fears you far too much to ever find yourself alone with her.”
“I like them afraid.”
Those words made you blink, your lips parting at the sincerity in them. By the way he held your gaze, you could tell he wanted you to know he meant it, but that voice in your mind assured you that you had nothing to be afraid of. Not when he leaned in closer, and not when his hand traveled from your chin and down to circle your neck.
“You get too excited,” the blonde woman steadily told him, a hint of authority in her voice. “You would kill her.”
Her fingers on your jaw forced you to turn your head, making you look at her, and when she kissed you, you welcomed it. It was a comforting kiss, one that relaxed you further, and you couldn’t help but to close your eyes and bask in the feel of her lips touching yours. Your skin grew warm, and you touched her arm.
“I’m here to keep you in line.”
She spoke the words into your mouth, but she wasn’t talking to you.
Feyd-Rautha’s lack of protest or anger at her words gave you the impression that you were being included in something that already existed. He let her kiss you, the heat of his gaze burning a hole into the side of your face as she drew you in closer. The feeling in your chest was both light and heavy, and you felt as if you couldn’t get close enough to her.
Lady Margot had an aura about her that you’d always been ensnared by—the way she talked, the way she swayed when she walked, and especially the way those attentive eyes watched everyone and everything so closely. She smelled fresh and crisp, an airy feminine aroma filling your nose as her hand rested on the side of your throat, Feyd-Rautha’s arm long falling back at his side.
When she pulled away, only the tip of her nose lightly touched yours.
“He wants you to touch him.”
Her voice reverberated in your mind, influencing your thoughts and movements, and you found yourself turning to look at the man in question. Your advance was slow, hesitant in reaching out to place your hands on the black fabric of his shirt. He visibly shuddered at the contact, and despite the fact that you were clothed, you felt vulnerable and naked underneath his intense gaze.
“This one is fragile, Feyd-Rautha,” amusement danced around her words. “You have to play gentle if you want to keep her.”
Almost as if he wanted to defy her, his hand quickly wrapped itself around your throat, forcing you closer. Your heart stuttered at the action, and despite that brief bout of adrenaline—your body’s way of telling you that you were in danger—that influential voice in your mind told you that you were safe. Your breathing was shallow as you looked at him with wide eyes.
His own gaze traveled over your form, his perusal slow and his hand tightening. You reached up, grabbing his arm, and the noise of protest he made was a cross between a grunt and a hum. His nose touched yours, and when he spoke again, it sounded like there was gravel in his throat.
“Do you fear me?”
The thought settled in your mind that he wanted you to say yes, and so you did, barely whispering it.
That pleased him, and he presented you with a terrifying smile. His fingers were pressing into the skin of your neck, and his blue gaze studied yours, eyes flickering between your own. There was a carnal excitement there that told you he lusted for more than just your body, and when you winced at the grip he had on your throat, it only grew.
“Good,” he praised in a guttural tone.
Kissing Feyd-Rautha was nothing like kissing Lady Margot.
It wasn’t meant to be a gentle and comforting experience, but instead one that forced you to face every one of your discomforts head on. His teeth pressing into your lips, his hand cutting off your airway, the lack of warning as he pushed you back. Every action was designed to make you squirm, and despite that feeling, heat still settled in the pit of your stomach as his weight pressed down on you.
Lady Margot’s gentle touch made your leg tingle. She was pulling on it, making room for him while her other hand grabbed your arm, and you shuddered at the feel of her lips kissing a path to your wrist. The contrast in their efforts made your head spin, and Feyd-Rautha’s constricting grip on your throat only disappeared when his lips replaced his hand instead.
Pain blossomed beneath where his teeth were, and you gasped, chest arching up into his involuntarily. His hands on your frame were tense, like he wanted to twist and tear you apart, but something disallowed him from doing so. When he kissed you again, the pain in your neck lingered, flaring from spot to spot, and you didn’t doubt that bruises would be there.
When you were forced to sit up, the soft and thin fabric of your dress was pulled at by two sets of hands. A feminine touch loosened the back, her lips following behind where his once were, soothing the irritated skin there. He, on the other hand, was yanking your sleeves down, and the sound of a slight tear or two in the fabric could be heard.
The cold air hit you for half a second before a warm mouth covered a sensitive bud before it even had time to harden. The sharp feeling of his teeth pressing into the skin of your breast made you shy away, but with Lady Margot at your back, you had nowhere to go. Her lips along your neck and shoulder was a welcomed feeling, a soothing contrast against the pain the Harkonnen man was inflicting. It almost faded to the background completely when her hand found its way between your thighs.
Your lips parted, and your lashes fluttered, and you couldn’t help but to lift your hips. Her fingers were soft against your skin, the appendages sliding between your folds and stroking you. One of your hands reached down to rest on hers, riding along with her ministrations while the other reached up to grip the arm of the man intent on breaking skin.
The feel of Lady Margot’s fingers pushing into you and curving against your walls made you circle your hips.  The pain and pleasure were starting to blend together so closely that you couldn’t tell what you liked and didn’t like. His teeth scraping down your torso had your breath hitching, and the Bene Gesserit woman behind you hummed when you clenched around her fingers. It sounded like a noise of approval, and when she spoke, her tone and words confirmed that suspicion.
“She likes that,” she mused, her free hand coming up to run over your chest. “She’s starting to like the pain.”
She was right.
Almost as if that triggered something in him, the blue-eyed man relinquished control completely, fingers digging into the tops of your thighs as he pulled you forward. The action caused you to collapse, your head resting in Lady Margot’s lap as he finished removing your dress, the fabric falling around you in tatters. There was only a brief bout of alarm when he brandished a small blade from his waist.
There was that voice again, settling and taking up residence in your mind, telling you not to be afraid.
Pain flared along your skin in a singular path as the tip of the blade just barely grazed your flesh. It was so sharp that a thin line of blood followed the weapon’s descent, but it was gone as quickly as it came as his tongue slipped past his lips, ingesting your essence and soothing that sting. Your eyes closed, and you welcomed her kiss as she leaned over.
Feyd-Rautha’s own lips kissed you too…just before he sank his teeth into your skin.
You were given bites and nips between the kisses—along your hip and along your thighs and eventually in between your thighs. Your hips lifted, and your back arched, and you unintentionally bit Lady Margot’s lip. She smiled into the kiss, and you knew that she could taste the same blood you felt on your own tongue.
Feyd-Rautha was a mad man between your legs, tongue and teeth playing with you, the blade in his hand pressed against your thigh. The soles of your feet pressed into the bed, wanting to both run away from the pain and run towards it. Every shallow cut made into your skin was soothed by his tongue almost immediately, and you wanted to be embarrassed by how wet their combined ministrations made you.
When you found yourself on your knees, the blade at your throat and his naked chest at your back, you could see the way Lady Margot’s gaze held his. Her face was serene and thoughtful, almost as if she were having a silent conversation with the man at your back. The sharpness of his blade drew blood, and by the way his free hand smeared it along your skin, you knew that it turned him on.
“Gentle,” she reminded him, standing.
He wasn’t so gentle when he pushed his way into you, making you sharply inhale, but the blade remained light against your throat. You tilted your head back, both to relieve the sting and because the feel of his cock sliding into you had you submitting. His own deep grunts were right at your ear, and his bloody hand trailed down your frame to roughly knead into your skin.
The sound of skin slapping against skin made your ears twitch, and when he roughly pushed you down with a hand on your back, your fingers twisted into the sheets of the luxurious bed. Your head was bowed, forehead grazing the fabric as he fucked you, power and aggression driving every thrust. Lady Margot was right, you were afraid of the Baron’s sole heir, positive that you’d never find yourself alone with him before today.
Even if you doubted it, you would have never guessed this is how he’d choose to spend his birthday celebration. While fireworks were exploding and food and drink was being passed around, Feyd-Rautha was spending his time burying his cock in you. His fingers twisted painfully into your hair, making you yelp, and the sound only made him fuck you harder.
“Are you still afraid of me?” he roughly asked you, and when you started to nod, he pushed your face down into the bed.
Understanding what he wanted, you managed to force out a small affirmation.
“Yes,” you choked out.
The low laugh that he let out was menacing, and he was aggressive in pushing you onto your back. His hand was tight when it found a home on your throat, pinning you in place as he snapped his hips into yours. The force was enough to make you wince, and his brutal treatment didn’t go unnoticed, the blonde woman coming up behind the man.
Her gaze found yours, holding it as she whispered something into his ear that yours weren’t privy to. Her beautiful hands came around to slide along his smooth chest, her lips still brushing against his ear. Her lips traveled to his throat as he pulled away from you, pulling out and allowing the other woman to guide him to sit back.
He was uncharacteristically still as he watched her take his place.
“Come.”
Her simple command was impossible to disobey, and you sat up, doing as she said. With a hand on the back of your head, she guided you towards the man, an imposing urge to touch him descending over you. With your hands sliding along his lithe frame, her fingers applied pressure, and your head lowered.
Your lips stretched around him as you tasted his cock, tongue flat and cheeks hollowed. Feminine hands were gliding over your curves, fingers eventually sinking into you again. You closed your eyes at the feel, relaxing and heart calming at the 180 from Feyd-Rautha’s earlier brutality. At the thought of him, you peeled your eyes open, looking up at him from beneath your lashes.
It amazed you, how he could be so dominant and forceful with you but so obedient and almost subdued with her. With one look into his eyes or the feel of her hands against his skin, he became a momentarily tamed wild animal. The feral glint in his eyes couldn’t be done away with, the desire to cause pain coloring his features whenever his gaze connected with yours.
As Lady Margot gently curved her fingers into you, you found yourself craving that feeling again.
Your neck and torso still faintly stung from where his blade had drawn blood, and you got the feeling that your skin was already starting to bruise from where he’d tightly held you. You recalled her earlier words, about her presence serving to keep him in line, and your mind lingered on the aches you felt from what he’d done while she was here. You wondered what would be in store for you should he ever get you completely alone.
You suspected that she was right.
He would get too excited…and probably kill you.
When his lips curved into a small smirk, you knew then that your thoughts were written on your face—along with your fear. His hand on your head made you nervous, and still you slid your mouth up and down the length of him. You could feel yourself dripping down your thighs, Lady Margot’s soft ministrations stroking that fire deep within your stomach. It made you moan around him, and if possible, you swore Feyd-Rautha’s eyes darkened at both the sound and feel.
“She would make a well-behaved pet,” he haughtily said.
The way he stared into your eyes told you that was meant more so for you than her. They both shifted, leaning in and you heard them kiss above your head.
“I knew that you would enjoy her,” the blonde woman confidently said, her even tone unable to hide her satisfaction. “Provided you don’t break her.”
When she pulled away, she pulled away from you too, and with a hand on your chin, she lifted your head. She guided you to kiss him, her own lips resting against your cheek, her soft voice telling you not to be afraid. You wanted to listen, your own mind agreeing, and so you welcomed the pain when blood bloomed along your lips.
Feyd-Rautha enjoyed the taste, roughly grabbing your hands and pinning them behind you at the small of your back. He didn’t tell you to lie down, instead making you, and you winced at the feel of your hands trapped beneath your own body. His lips were stained red when he pulled away, and your mouth parted into an ‘O’ shape when the head of his cock started to stretch you out again.
You were completely powerless—at his mercy—and you cried out at the rough curve of his hips. He looked vicious above you, focused not on chasing his high but on seeing the register of pain on your face instead. That was what brought him pleasure, watching you wince and squirm beneath him and his intense thrusts. If his hand wasn’t on your throat then it was yanking your hair or digging into the soft flesh of your breast.
He seemed to like the sight of marking you up whether it be with his teeth or his hand…or that blade.
He held it against your throat while he fucked you, sometimes sliding the flat part down your chest, blue eyes transfixed by the metal pressing against your skin. Occasionally he’d turn it, the edge grazing you, making a cut just shallow enough and then he’d lean down to taste you. Spots of his own flesh was marred by your blood, and he obviously didn’t care as he smeared it over both of you with every movement.
With your hands free, you clutched onto the sheets, eyes rolling into the back of your head. His hands were painfully tight on your waist, keeping your hips lifted for him as he thrust into you. Lady Margot—silently and appreciatively watching—slid her hands along the bed to grab your hands. Her fingers intertwined with your own, holding them down, and you welcomed the gentle kisses she placed on your wrists and then your cheek before finally your lips.
The man above you made a noise of disapproval, and after some time, she granted him what he wanted, his own rough lips replacing hers. You panted into the kiss, tasting your blood on his lips, and you felt almost delirious. It was a constant cycle of pain and pleasure that had you chasing him when he started to pull away. The laugh he gave at the sight told you his thoughts on the matter, but you didn’t care how much power you were giving him.
His gaze suddenly lifted, and his thrusts didn’t stop as he faced Lady Margot. You felt hypnotized as you watched them, eyes focused on the way Feyd-Rautha stuck out his tongue, elongating it in a way you didn’t think possible. The willowy woman had let you go, taking his own blade and dragging the edge of it down his tongue.
It was then that you realized the man inside of you enjoyed pain almost as much as he liked inflicting it.
You wondered if that was why he was so submissive towards her, why she could order him around and why she was so confident that she could keep him in line. You were unsurprised when they kissed, the brutal man kissing you after a while when they finally parted. You swore that his blood tasted completely different from your own.
A thin layer of sweat coated your skin, and you felt almost completely spent. You were sure that the celebration of his birth was still being had while he chose to celebrate between your legs. His strength and the knowledge of how easily he could snuff you out played a part in the way you clenched around his cock. You could feel that you were close—and so could he.
His hand completely obstructed your breathing, and you could only hold onto his wrist. With every thrust into your cunt, the heat in the pit of your stomach grew. Your heart was racing, and your eyes struggled to remain open, and your toes curled as he stretched you around him. A noise of appreciation reached your ears, and for a moment you wondered if he was going to snap your neck.
He could do it. The strength in his hand told you so and that he would probably barely exert himself doing so. You felt your neck strain underneath his fingers, and your nails drew blood over his skin. You knew he liked that because he kissed you again. Your shallow breaths hit his face, and just as you were on the verge of passing out, you came.
…and his hold loosened.
The rush of air into your lungs coinciding with the release of pressure inside of you made your world momentarily go dark. All you could feel was the snug fit of his cock—and the way your walls fluttered around it—and his teeth against your lip. You could faintly feel softer hands on your face, and a choked moan left your lips his hips continued to connect with yours.
His hand tightened again just as your vision started to return to you, and the smile you were met with was chilling. So turned on by watching you straddle death, the fearsome fighter came too but much more violently. He practically growled above you, the noise so animalistic and inhumane sounding. Your neck almost cracked beneath the force of his hand, and the overstimulation from the feel of his cock made you want to clench your thighs together.
You were struggling to breathe when he stilled, chest burning, and when he roughly let you go—pushing himself away from you—you gasped for air. You turned on your side, sweaty and bloody and feeling like you couldn’t breathe deep enough. A hand smoothed along the side of your face—a feminine hand—and when you looked up, the blue-eyed man was cleaning his blade with a crooked smile, terrifying teeth on display.
“I think I will keep this one.”
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ellecdc · 9 days
Note
hello! would you maybe be willing to consider writing a kind of follow-up to the poly moonwater fics where reader is pregnant? maybe when she has the babies and everyone’s reactions?? ty for reading my request🙏
I love this little family so damn much 😭🫶
poly!moonwater x afab!reader who gives birth to their twins
CW: pregnancy, hormonal fits, brief discussion of Regulus' childhood, brief discussion of Remus' childhood, going into labour, portrayal of breastfeeding though nothing is described, Barty losing his fucking mind, Uncle Sirius for Best Uncle 2024, also the babies look like their daddies to avoid describing/labelling the mother's features
Remus felt for you. He really, really did.
But also, he was a little afraid of you.
Scratch that, he was very afraid of you.
But his sympathy for you ran deeper than his fear, which is how he found himself sitting in one of the (many) gliders Regulus has purchased for every room in your shared home as you fought to find a comfortable position in your bed.
And yes, your bed.
Because you had since kicked Remus and Regulus out of your shared bed.
And though they didn’t feel particularly bad about it, you claimed it was their fault.
You see, after a particularly worrisome fall - that took place  at six and a half months pregnant (with twins, no less) as you missed a step on your way up the stairs of your townhouse - unfortunately for you, and fortunately for Remus and Regulus, it happened in front of all of your friends one night when they were over for dinner, which resulted in a lot of fussing by James and Sirius, and caused Barty to go marching upstairs and begin moving all of your furniture and belongings into the spare room on the main floor.
“Like fuck my Treasure is navigating these stairs in her condition. The two of you are sodding useless; this should have been done months ago.” He spat venomously as Evan shouted at him that it was “not polite to reconfigure someone else's house without permission.”
You vehemently protested the move.
Regulus and Remus didn’t think it was such a bad idea.
Because of their ‘betrayal’ (read: their lack of support in your arguments against your most capricious friend devotee), the boys were not allowed in ‘your room’.
So, perhaps Remus was already pushing the limits by taking up residence in the glider as you tried and failed to find a comfortable position to read in, determined to take a nap. 
“The babes giving you grief, dove?” He asked softly, earning him a derisive scoff from you. 
“What do you think?” You spat. 
Remus grimaced but decided to soldier on. “They may be ready to come any day now.”
That was the wrong thing to say if your quick glare was anything to go by.
“No they are not.”
“Dove,” he started, closing his own book and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he considered you. “Anywhere from 34 to 38 weeks is full term for twins. The fact you’ve made it to 35 is incredible, baby.”
Your lips pinched as your brows dipped, and Remus was sure you were close to tears. “No, I’m not ready, I-” you let out a breath as you cut yourself off, alerting Remus to the fact that you were about to give away the sex of (one of) the babies. “Baby B, they need more time.” You admitted, voice quieter as if you were afraid saying it any louder would somehow jinx it and trigger your own labour. 
“They’re going to come when they’re ready.” He repeated.
He left the room after you threw your book at him. 
He followed the sounds coming from the kitchen where he found Regulus on his hands and knees underneath the cabinets, of which he’d emptied of all their contents.
The second Regulus found out that the three of you were expecting twins, and due to the nature of the superfetation and thus the risks involved, he quit his job and strong-armed (read: lightly encouraged) Remus to do the same. 
And while Remus focused on catering to you and ensuring you were comfortable (or…as comfortable as humanly possible when you had two little freaks using your organs as trampolines) and well fed, Regulus focused on…whatever this was.
“Reggie?”
“Mhm?” He responded quickly, voice muffled from where his head was still shoved deep within the lower cabinets.
“What are you doing?”
Regulus shifted and his head made a painful thump sound when it connected with the top of the cabinet before he pulled himself out of it.
“Cleaning.”
One of Remus' brows arched at that. “The lower cabinets?”
“Right.”
“Why?”
Regulus rubbed the back of his head as he looked between Remus and the mess he was currently surrounded by in the name of ‘cleaning’. 
“Well…the babies-”
“Won’t be concerned with the lower cabinets.” Remus cut him off, looking down at his boyfriend lovingly.
Remus watched as Regulus took a deep breath and deflated significantly. 
Remus pushed aside some large pots and various cleaning products as he joined Regulus on the floor and pulled him closer by the ankle. 
“What’s going on inside that head of yours, love?” He asked him quietly, rubbing his thumb along his Achilles tendon as Regulus seemed to organise his thoughts.
“I don’t think I’m going to go back to work.” Regulus blurted finally.
Remus fought to school his expression as he tilted his head in consideration. “Ever?”
Regulus shook his head and rested his chin on his knees. “I don’t know. Maybe just part time or something…I just- I don’t…I don’t want to be like him.”
“Like who, sweetheart?”
“Like my father.” Regulus bit out, bitterness colouring his tone. “Avoiding my family and responsibilities by hiding at work. Coming home to find out the babies have done something wonderful and I missed it. I…I want to be here, and I’m afraid; I’m afraid I’ll be more like him than I mean to be.”
Remus smiled sadly at Regulus as he squeezed his ankle twice. “I already know you’ll be nothing like him, my star. Considering you’re so worried about it, I know you’ll be 100 times the father he was. But, I’ll be here to make sure that stays true, okay?”
Regulus’ eyes met Remus’, and he felt his heart squeeze at the redness rimming Regulus’ eyes as they turned glassy. 
“I’ll take care of you - both of you; all of you. You’ll never have to want for anything, you know that right?” Regulus stated urgently. 
Remus smiled softly at him as he nodded. “I know, love.”
“You could stay home indefinitely too, you know.” Regulus offered shyly. 
Remus chuckled. “You just don’t want to have to face our little mama bear all by yourself.” He teased. 
Regulus chuckled in response but his eyes morphed into a lovesick gaze as he stared unseeingly out the archway of the kitchen. “She’s just uncomfortable and stressed right now.”
“She’s gonna be such a good mum.” Remus agreed quickly.
“The best.”
“We’re so lucky.”
“Rem? Reg?” Your voice sounded from the hall before your form hobbled into the archway as you used the door frame for support.
“What’s the matter?” Regulus asked quickly, kicking his feet out and sending various pots toppling over on the tile floor.
Whatever you had been on your way to say seemed to be placed on the back burner as your brows pinched and your eyes darted across the chaos that was currently your kitchen.
“What were you doing in here?” You asked slightly breathlessly. Both Remus and Regulus stood sheepishly.
“Erm, uh….cleaning?” Regulus answered in the form of a question.
One of your brows raised as you continued scanning the mess. “You’re not very good at it.”
“What did you need, dove?” Remus asked gently.
Your face softened as you looked up at him worriedly. 
“I think my water broke.”
You could have heard a pin drop in the messy kitchen as Remus and Regulus stood staring at you dumbfoundedly. 
“You…” Regulus started before clearing his throat. “You think?”
You grimaced as you looked down to your stomach sheepishly. “No I…I’m quite sure. I think-” You paused to suck in a breath through your teeth. “I think it’s time.”
The breath that followed the end of your sentence bordered on a groan and the boys jumped to action. 
“Okay, come here amour.” Regulus said gently as he supported you with one hand on your elbow and the other on your lower back and he guided you to a chair in the dining room. “Rem, can you grab the babies’ bags?”
“On it.” He answered quickly and went running to the nursery to grab two matching nappy bags. Merlin, babies come with a lot of stuff.
“Are you grabbing our bag?” Remus called to Regulus who was then running up the stairs to the ensuite bedroom.
“Oui! Amour’s bag is in her closet.”
“Got it!”
Regulus and Remus reconvened in the living room with four bags, two baby carriers, and enough panic to fill an olympic swimming pool.
“Okay, baby bags have nappies?” Regulus asked, reading off a list in his hands.
“Check.” Remus responded.
“Snappies?”
“Check.”
“Blankets?”
“Check.”
“Hats and booties?”
“Got it.”
“Okay. And who packed mama’s bag?”
“She did.”
Regulus let out a relieved sigh. “Okay, no need to check that one then.”
Remus offered him an unimpressed look as he re-zipped the babies’ bags and threw them over his shoulder.
“Okay, you grab the carriers and our bag, I’ll grab the rest.” Remus instructed, which Regulus complied as they stepped up to the floo.
“Alright, St. Mungo’s.” Remus said clearly as the flames surged green and the two men stepped through to the intake room of the magical hospital.
Both men were breathless as they nearly collided with the desk where an unimpressed mediwix looked them both up and down.
“We’re checking into the maternity ward; our partner has gone into labour.” Remus explained in an exhale.
The mediwix moved his gaze between both men, their stomachs, and the various belongings they were carrying.
“Right,” he drawled before his eyes returned to Remus’. “And, your partner?”
“Y/N L/N.” Regulus added quickly, causing the mediwix to move his judgmental stare to him.
“Right….and where is she?”
Both men spun to face each other in a mixture of horror and embarrassment.
Remus rounded the corner of the kitchen to find you sitting where Regulus had left you, one hand massaging a point of your stomach as you considered him with a look full of judgement and mirth. 
“Where’s Reg?” You goaded as Remus helped you up from your chair and started making the slow trek back towards the floo flames; his face burning hot with shame that he was sure was spreading to the tips of his ears and well down his chest. 
“He was too embarrassed.” He admitted quietly.
You sounded like you were getting ready to laugh when you doubled over and a pained whimper escaped your lips.
Remus quickly bent down so he had one hand on each of your arms, trying to help keep you upright.
“I’m sorry sweetheart, I’m sorry. We’re going to get you in a bed and feeling better, okay?”
You whimpered again and looked up at Remus sadly. “I’m sorry.” You cried quietly.
“Dove.” He admonished sadly. “What on earth are you sorry for?”
You took in two large breaths as you tried to breathe around the pain. “You have to do this every month.”
Remus wanted to cry. For you, or for himself, he wasn’t sure. He loved you so sodding much he couldn’t even tell what exactly it was about what you said that touched him so much.
“You’re so much stronger and braver than I am though, dovey. So if I can get through it, I know you can too, yeah?” He offered softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“I’m only brave because I learned it from you.” You gritted out through a sob. 
“We can argue about this later, okay? Let’s get you checked in; I’m sure the mediwix is glaring daggers at Regulus for having abandoned his pregnant partner.”
He managed to coerce a small laugh out of you which he considered a win before you both stepped through the flames. 
Remus didn’t grow up expecting much out of life.
Bitten at only four years old, he was certain something would go wrong with his little body during one of his transformations and he’d be dead long before he ever hit Hogwarts age.
He couldn’t attend muggle school growing up due to his affliction and the risk of performing accidental magic in front of muggles.
Though he was certain he was going to die before age 11, he was even more certain that should he make it to 11, he’d never be accepted into Hogwarts.
When he was accepted into Hogwarts, he was certain he’d never make any friends.
When he made friends, he was certain they’d hate him if they found out about his lycanthropy.
When his friends accepted him for his lycanthropy, well….he never imagined he’d be so lucky as to find a partner who was just as accepting.
Let alone two.
For as long as Remus Lupin could remember, he never imagined ever feeling as much love or as loved as he currently felt in this exact moment.
Not only did he have two people who he loved beyond measure, but those two people gifted him two of the most perfect, tiny little beings he could have never imagined possible.
And suddenly - sitting here in a hospital room with you resting in a bed with your eyes closed as Regulus wiped lovingly at your face with a damp cloth, with a tiny little black-haired baby swaddled to perfection fast asleep in a see-through bassinet on your other side, and with an even tinier fawn-haired baby snuggled perfectly into Remus’ bare chest - every single full moon was worth it.
Every broken bone, every scar, every ache and pain and sleepless night that brought him here was absolutely, without a doubt, worth it. 
“Knock knock!” Remus could hear Lily murmur quietly yet brightly from behind the closed hospital door.
“That is so cringey, Red. Why wouldn’t you just knock?” Sirius muttered. 
“Because!” She hissed back and he could hear what sounded like Sirius being swatted with her purse. “They could be sleeping! I don’t want to startle them with a loud knock.”
“Oh yeah, Rem and Reg are definitely gonna piss their pants at the sound of you knocking on the door. Shouldn’t mama be all drugged up right now anyway?”
You chuckled under your breath as you peeled open one of your eyes to look over at Remus who was looking at you with a matching smile as you listened to Sirius being walloped three more times.
“Okay, well, you guys settle this out here then.” James decided as he pushed the door open.
He smiled at you and Regulus before his eyes met Remus’ form in a glider as he was currently doing skin-to-skin with his miniature doppelganger. 
James made a very embarrassing cooing sound (if you asked Remus) as he made his way into the room, tiptoeing like he was avoiding invisible trip wires. 
Lily and Sirius stopped their scuffle as they followed James in, beaming widely at Remus.
“Oh my Godric, Moony.” Lily cooed, looking awfully close to tears as the nickname so unusual out of Lily’s mouth caused Remus’ eyes to well up similarly. “It’s you as a baby!”
“Who was right? Girl or boy?” Sirius asked quickly, daring to reach forward and lovingly stroke a finger along the downy soft skin on the baby’s cheek.
Remus snorted and Regulus groaned. 
“Girl, Pads.”
“Yes!” Lily and Sirius cheered quietly as they gave each other double high fives, clearly over whatever tiff they were having in the hallway mere moments ago.
“Better luck next time, Reggie.” James called towards him, causing you to narrow your eyes dangerously at your friend.
“Wait.” James said as he caught sight of a little something in a bassinet behind Regulus. “WAIT.”
“What?” Sirius asked, craning his neck to see what James was looking at.
“No…” Lily breathed out disbelievingly.
“Twins?!” Sirius shrieked.
“What?” Regulus asked derisively, and Remus had to work really hard to keep his face neutral at that.
“Wha-” James started, violently whipping his head back and forth between the two infants in the room. “What do you mean, what!?”
“There’s two!” Sirius exclaimed.
Your mouth dropped open in ‘shock’ as you looked at Sirius aghast. “You see the other one too?”
The room fell painfully silent as James, Lily, and Sirius all looked bemusedly between the family of five before Remus couldn’t take it anymore and started giggling. 
His daughter began to stir from the rumbling of his chest causing Regulus to scoff in faux admonishment.
“Would you knock that off, Remus; you’re going to give her shaken baby syndrome.” He muttered before he was gently prying the tiny infant from Remus’ chest and wrapping her up in a blanket before holding her close to his chest.
“Mama.” Lily breathed out. “Two!?”
“Two.” You confirmed. Remus delighted at the shy yet proud smile you adorned as you tucked your chin to your chest. 
Throwing his jumper back on, he moved over to perch on the opposite side of your bed and pulled the little bassinet closer to the two of you.
“Are they both girls?” Lily asked.
“Yes.” Remus laughed, causing Sirius to cackle from where he stood looking over Regulus’ shoulder at one of his nieces. 
“You were wrong twice little brother!”
“Sod off, Sirius.”
Sirius smacked Regulus up the back of the head. “You watch your mouth around my nieces, hellion.” 
“Isn’t hellion a swear word?” James queried.
“It’s not a swear, it’s a noun.” Sirius explained.
“But then wouldn’t fuck be a verb?” Remus asked, causing the room to fall silent as everyone pondered that for a moment.
The silence didn’t last long as the sound of two heavy footfalls grew in volume before they stopped abruptly in front of the hospital room.
“Am I too late!?” Barty screeched (albeit quietly) into the room as he and Evan stood in the doorway catching their breaths.
“Too late for…what, Junior? What did you think was happening here?” James asked.
“Shut up.” Barty spat as he moved into the room, shoving past everyone to press kisses against your forehead. 
“My beautiful, sweet Treasure. All this work for two tossers. We could still run away, yeah? You, me and the baby; just say the word.” 
“Try babies, Junior.” Sirius taunted, causing Barty to straighten up so quickly he nearly collided with Lily as he turned to look at Sirius incredulously. 
“What!?”
Sirius smirked as he pointed to the baby in Regulus’ arms as Barty moved to inspect the tawny-haired babe.
“A Lupin. That’s too bad.” Barty muttered quietly, causing Regulus to kick at his shin and you to shout a reproachful ‘Bartemus!”.
“And there.” Sirius continued, pointing to where Remus was picking up a black-haired babe from a clear bassinet to pass into your waiting arms. 
“A Black!? Even worse!” Barty shrilled.
“Barty!” You chided again, though the smile playing at your lips severely diminished the severity of your tone.
“Oh, oh gods, oh my. I-” 
Barty didn’t seem to know where to look; pained puffs of air leaving his lungs as he spun comedically on the spot, dividing his attention between you and the two baby girls.
“Rosier, your boyfriend’s about to combust.” Lily teased as she leaned back into James who quickly wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her head. 
“Barty.” Evan tried, causing Barty to look at him in horror.
“There’s two!”
Even Evan seemed to find some humour in the state of his boyfriend as his lips quirked up into a smirk. “Yes, babe. I counted that many as well.”
“Two!?” He shouted again as he turned his sights on you.
“How’d….How’d you have two in there!?” He barked as he pointed accusatively at your stomach.
“Magic?” You asked shyly, looking down at your daughter who was beginning to fuss.
“Way to go, Junior. You’ve upset her.” Sirius grumbled.
“She’s hungry.” Remus corrected, stroking her dark hair before moving his hand to stroke yours in much the same way.
“Her?” Barty asked quietly, watching as you helped the infant latch. 
“Two girls, Uncle Barty.” You offered quietly, smiling softly up at your fiercest friend.
“I’m a girl uncle.” He said in awe, moving his smile towards the baby in Regulus’ arms.
“What are their names?” James asked eagerly. 
You looked shyly up at Remus who in turn fielded the question to Regulus. 
“This here,” Regulus started, pausing to clear his throat as he looked down at his daughter. “Is Rome Valeria Lupin.”
Lily let out a breathy ‘awe’ as she touched her hand to her chest, and Remus pretended he didn’t notice Sirius wiping a tear from under his eye.
“Named after the Empire, just like her daddy.” James commented with a soft yet proud smirk.
“And that one there is Soleil Pax Lupin.”
Sirius’ gaze moved to the little head he could see nuzzling at her mother’s chest. “A Sunny little girl.” He whispered quietly.
“Pax, that means peace in Latin, yeah?” Evan commented, smirking as Barty scoffed at him.
“Of course it does, Evan. Everyone knows that.”
James’ eyebrows furrowed as he looked towards Remus. “I didn’t know that…” He admitted quietly. 
“And Valeria means strength; Rome was a little younger than her sister, but she was a powerful little fighter.” Remus explained, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 
“They’re perfect, you guys. Just perfect.” Lily commented emphatically, earning nods in agreement from James, Sirius, and Evan.
“With no help from these wankers, surely. You did a great job, Treasure. They may have lost the lottery in terms of fathers but these girls couldn’t have asked for a better mum.”
And though Regulus rolled his eyes with an annoyed shake of his head, no one bothered to argue.
These two girls really lucked out when it came to their mummy. 
“Oh gods.” Barty whispered as he stood hastily.
“What?” Regulus asked cautiously.
“Oh gods.” He shrieked, turning a withering glare towards his friend. “You sods should have told me!”
Remus helped you right your robe as you pulled Soleil away from you and began patting gently at her back. “We thought it would be a funny surprise.” He explained.
Barty scoffed derisively and turned his ire onto him.
“Well ha ha, very funny.” He deadpanned. “I’ve only bought one of everything!”
Regulus waved him off after he passed Rome to his brother’s eagerly awaiting arms. “That’s fine, Barty.”
“No! It's not fine, Barty!” Barty volleyed back. “Evan, let’s go.” He ordered as he bent to press another kiss to your head, kissed his hand and gently pressed it to Soleil’s shoulder and did the same to Rome (much to Sirius’ chagrin). 
“Where?”
“Shopping! I need to go back and buy another of everything that we’ve bought!”
“Over the past seven months!?” Evan asked incredulously.
“Yes!”
Remus could hear them arguing all the way to the floo flames.
Lily offered to take Soleil from you to finish burping the baby as the room fell into a comfortable silence.
“So, when can we start trying again?” Regulus asked, causing Remus to grimace and you to level him with a look that would send a lesser man straight to his grave.
“Okay,” Regulus acquiesced. “We’ll talk more next week.”
Sirius laughed as he looked down at the babe in his arms.
“Sounds like your papa’s going to be sleeping on Uncle Siri’s couch, Roro.” He cooed.
From the look on your face, Remus was sure Sirius was quite right.
A/N: thanks to some of the ideas that were sent to me from anon's, like the idea that they rushed to the hospital and forgot reader at the house 🤣
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simpjaes · 2 days
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heeseung taking out all his anger during sex drabble pls ❤️
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MDNI.
this was originally written for jeno on my other blog but it fits so well [i rewrote it/reworded a lot of things. it's much better now lol] wc: 2.3k
tags: Heeseung hate fucks reader when he has a bad day, unprepped penetration, reader basically loses her ability to feel anything other than his cock lmao (cock drunk)
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It doesn't always hurt when Heeseung has his hands on you. Really, most of the time it’s blissful. There were those nights though, when he would be rough, careless, and borderline worrisome with you. Oftentimes humiliating you in the way you can barely even mutter his name, weak and quivering under him. 
It doesn’t happen happen, but when it does, you know how much you always end up…kind of loving it.
Really, even if in the moment you’re in pain, sometimes even scared, you had to tell him after the fact to keep doing it. That it’s okay. That you fucking love it. 
Naturally, tonight is another one of those nights. 
Heeseung, first, had you against the counter with his strong arms pressing you back until your head hit the cabinets. You were, essentially, pinned there between his frustrated eyes and the counter top with him slotting himself between your legs. Not a single word is said to you, not a single explanation, and arguably, you know better than to ask. 
You already know. He’s had a bad day.
So, you just let him. Feeling his lips go from a grimace to biting and nipping against your skin. You can only imagine how bad his day went for him to be so silent, still, you let him do as he pleases because you don’t exactly want to make it worse for him. If anything, you’re fine with being an outlet. You get plenty out of this too, after all.
And there is a part of him that knows he’s doing this with you rather than at you, based on your previous pleads to be his outlet. He’s forever in love with the fact that you let him be this rough, with his bruising grip and harsh teeth. There’s nothing more in this world he could need to unwind aside from you and you alone. Solely because you let him.
When he drags you to the bedroom without a word, you simply let him. Internally bubbling with all sort of emotions. Fear, excitement, concern, arousal. He appears to be more angry tonight though, solely because his fingers gripping your wrist hurts much more than usual. You can feel your skin under them, pulling and stretching under his grip as he takes you to where he wants you. 
And yet again, like on many nights like these, he doesn’t offer a single bit of foreplay. He does little more than getting his cock out with that same frustrated face, flicking his head down as if he has an expectation of you. That, he does. You know it very well, and you do as you’re directed. Rolling your pajamas down your leg and easily spreading your legs and pussy for him. 
Unprepped, still mostly dry. You know it’s going to hurt, and he knows it’s going to hurt too. The understanding is mutual but the act is much needed on more ends than just Heeseung’s. 
The drag of his immediate, forced, plunge is uncomfortable for both of you, but something about the feeling of getting you wet while he’s inside of you is something that grounds Heeseung beyond belief. The feeling pulls him out of his red thoughts and turns them a shade darker. 
It’s always you who can distract him. 
And, of course, he only goes faster and harder at that point, chasing the moment for when you’ll slick up for him nice and wet. Gripping onto your body in such a harsh way that all you can do for him is whimper and cry. Your eyes always force the tears, especially when he hasn’t kissed you yet. But even if he had kissed you, you’d be unable to kiss him back at this point. Not until the discomfort subsides anyway.
Thankfully, and like always, it doesn’t take long for your body to want it. What was once the sound of dry and slapping skin turns to that of wet, squelching sounds as you drip out and around him. The drag hurts no more, and by this point you need him to go harder, faster, fucking deeper. After all, if he’s going to hate-fuck you when you’re not even the point of his anger, if he’s not even going to kiss you, he better find a way to make it hurt more. 
Heeseung does come back to himself when he feels the slide though, loving that he can come home from his awful day and have you present yourself in such a way for him. He loves you more than anything, for so many fucking reasons that don’t include that, but still. This is what you do for him, and it brings his softness back tenfold as he reaches out for your face, eyes softening for you in concern. 
Fuck, he swears he learns something new about you every day too. After all the years the two of you have been together, he’s shocked when you turn your face away from him. He’s a bit defeated at the act, partially wondering if he’s really pushed it too far in terms of using you. It’s not often he doesn’t at least give you some praise as he does this, but really, he was so, so upset. His brain just….he needed this before saying anything. 
And so, at that motion of you turning your face away from him and his softer hands, he only slams his hips harder. He tips himself back a bit now, using one hand to tug at your clit as if it’s a form of retaliation from your rejection.
It would be retaliation anyway, but Heeseung knows well enough how much you love to hurt. You love when he tugs and pinches against your pretty, swollen clit. The sharp pains always make you cry in a way that fucks your brain up. As if you don’t know whether to plead for him to stop or to ask for more. 
Still, he’s frustrated that you won’t let him love on you now that he’s grounded himself a bit. His whole fucking day has been a disaster, and now you’re pulling away? Not making eye contact? Not letting him kiss you?
“Baby, look at me.” He says, now nearly demanding that you do as he says. 
And, of course, you do. 
“You want it to hurt more?” He continues when you still shift your eyes away from him, but he’s a bit amused in the way you nod to him. So out of it for him that he feels almost silly for being upset at you in the first place. 
“Yeah?” He nods with a half chuckle, slowing his hips but now driving in with intent and harsh plunges. “Just like that?” 
You yelp as you urge him with a nod, loving the sear and feeling of your boyfriend tearing you open. And while you know he’s being rough, he’s not quite giving you his all now that he’s softened up.
You want him to give it his ass by this point now, if the sound of your pussy is anything to go by. You want him to fucking hurt you, to the point you can’t moan, to the point you can’t breathe. 
“More,” You manage to get out for him in another yelped whimper. “You’re being soft.”
“Yeah?” He asks for confirmation with his hand reaching for you cheek again, burying his leaking cock in so deep, so painfully deep. “Look at me.”
You do, showing him your blown out pupils and mess of hair on top of you head. You nod frantically, wanting him to push further than he ever has. Wondering if he’ll ever surpass his own limit for you. 
It goes like this for a while longer than usual. More pain, more pleasure, and your heart rate higher than you thought possible. 
He’s using you so well and you couldn’t be more proud to be this for him. An outlet, his girlfriend, his sex doll. And fuck, he bites, he bruises, he drags his hips so painfully into you that you feel like you genuinely could be split in half at any moment if he truly wanted to. 
So full, you can feel it so deeply inside of you that all you can do is cry.
You lose yourself to that feeling, basking in the sensation of your walls clenching every inch of him and moaning out with each second that passes. To the point your throat is sore and your eyes are swollen from the tears. 
He pulls against your hair now, holding his hips in place and burying himself just as deep as before inside of you. Instantly, you see tunnel vision now. Like you could burst, both physically and emotionally, all for him. 
Him, him, him. 
And he only holds himself like that to the point that you can feel your cervix bruise. He only pushes harder now, trying to inch in more of his cock despite having no more to give. He lifts your leg over his shoulder just to get a different angle at the failure, only to find a way to make you feel him deeper than you thought was possible. 
God, it hurts so good and he loves it. Your pained face paired with the image of your pussy taking the entirety of him. You’re everything to him. 
And now? His grunts are that of focus rather than pleasure. He wants to ruin you, he is trying to ruin you to the fucking core just to see if you’ll unravel in a new sort of way. 
It’s the fact that he’s talking to you through it too. You can’t make out a single word though, tunnel vision is tunnel hearing, and all you can focus on is the feeling of his cock bruising the deepest part of you. Being torn apart by the man you love is…something you’ll never forget. 
And when you do manage to catch a smirk on his face before his hips start sliding back and forth again, you realize he loves this as much as you do. Of course he does, who wouldn’t love a girl willing to let her man surpass his own limits? 
Out of respect, no less. 
“Are you with me?” His voice echoes through your eyes, and while he’s fully aware that you’re absolutely fucking gone with the way he’s fucking you right now, he takes your distant nod as confirmation. 
Despite how far aware he seems in your head, you know that every sensation your body is feeling right now is because of him. You can’t help the quivering. The uncontrollable shaking.
It feels so good, to the point you are nearly numb to everything else around you. The swollen feeling of your body being abused is too, too fucking good. You can’t even comprehend that he’s kissing against your slack mouth, but you do your best to kiss him back. 
Goddamn does he love the way you drool all over yourself and him. Good. Fucking good girl. 
“Try again,” He chuckles against your tongue, waiting, just to see if you can manage to kiss him properly. Though he suspects you’re completely lost in your head right now. 
After all, he’s giving you exactly what you asked for. 
And all you can do in return is blink up at him with a dazed smile. Your body is moving up with each of his thrusts just to make it that much more painful, and his lips continue to lay against yours. He’s truly waiting for you to kiss him back like you have the ability to do it. Like you can truly think of anything else rather than what he’s doing between your legs. 
Hah. 
“You’re so gone, baby.” He smiles in a breath at your failure to do anything more than leave your mouth open for him. He’s fucking floored by how much you love this, and how you truly embrace the inability to think at this moment. “You’re loving this, hm?”
You can’t even not for him this time, feeling pangs of pain and pleasure shoot through your body with each sharp thrust. 
“Try again, pretty girl.” He encourages you when he licks against your bottom lip again, gripping your hair with his other hand and craning your neck back. 
”You can do it, come on.” He adds, biting against your neck and licking the mark. 
You once again, can’t even try, because he accentuates each word with a drag of his pulsing cock and a sharp pressure against your clit with his abdomen. So, you stop trying, falling into the depths of the sensations and allowing yourself to lose your grasp on reality entirely. 
Fucking hell, he loves it. The way you come undone, the way your entire body goes clack before shaking uncontrollably with a wet spurt of your pussy trying to push him out. He can feel you clench around him, your body acting on instinct to push, push, push, the pleasure out and all over him. 
He has to hold back his own impressed moan at the way he stays buried into you as you squirt around him with that pretty, pained look on your face. 
“Fuck, that feels good, doesn’t it?” He grunts out, slowing his pace to feel you clench around him fully, enough to where he needs to brace himself to pull out slightly just to shove his cock right back into that quivering mess. “So out of it too, god–” He moans now, leaning back just to look down fully. Noting how you’ve left a mess all over him. 
And you still continue to quiver, your pussy still clenches and grips him. All the way until you’re slack, still clenching, and he’s now pumping his cum into you with such a relieved moan that it almost brings you back to reality. 
By the time he’s done shaking on top of you, out of breath, and pulling out, your ears are ringing save for his soft voice. 
“Baby?” You hear him say as he dips down beside your head. “I got you.” 
You manage to nod to him and smile in a drunken kind of daze as he lifts you from the bed for the proper clean up from a boyfriend who very much loves you. 
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2-dsimp · 25 days
Note
Ok so everyone and their mother has yandere CEO/ boss x a secretary/assistant/intern blah blah blah
BUT! Hear me out...what and a yandere assistant x boss darling??
Cw: slight blood/gore, obsessive/possessive tendencies, self-sabotage, lack of self worth,
Synopsis: 【You are the overseer in charge of the finance floor of the company SupeCo. And you happened to be issued a brand you employee who was albeit a greenhorn. But nonetheless passionate in preforming his duties as your assistant. You’ve in the short couple days you’ve grown a soft spot for him. And constantly prayed that he’d make it through his job, in one piece since you discovered that he tended to be accident prone.】
☆*:.。..。.:*☆ ☆*:.。..。.:*☆ ☆*:.。..。.:
Yandere assistant! That’s always in attention whenever his darling boss is ready to put him to work. He’s practically twitching from getting withdrawals of receiving less than the amount of orders he’d like to have from you.
Yandere Assistant! Whose mind is buzzing 24/7 and is utterly pathetic all by his lonesome. And craves for you to throw whatever tasks you’ve got at him, anything at all, to satisfy his dream of being your personal lap dog.
Yandere assistant! Who loves hearing your voice calling out for his support from across the office hall. He just cannot relate to how his other coworkers cower at their names being announced by their own superiors. Since you were the best in his humblest opinion. And the only one he’d deem to be of importance to be more precise.
Yandere Assistant! That subtly does self sabotage if only to hog your time, in making you giving him lengthy instructions. On what to do since he clearly couldn’t fathom how to print out a piece of paper.
Yandere Assistant! Who swears that he’s not incompetent on purpose. But it’s just that he adores the way you’re so kind with your words. And oh so patient when it comes to correcting a member of your staff. Even going as far as to touch him to show exactly how to maneuver the printer. In short all of your lovely gestures made him jumpy. As he was sweating bullets trying not to turn into a feral degenerate and bend you over the broke ass printer to properly “use it”.
“Tem? Temothy~? Hello? I’m sorry Am I going too fast for you or—“
“Ah nonono absolutely not! Y-you’re fine B-boss I c-could hear you j-just fine!”
Your new hire assistant, Temothy, stuttered as he blinked out of whatever daydream he got afflicted with. Fixing you a mousy smile as he haphazardly fixed his messy overgrown bangs which obscured half of his face from view. You noted that He always had a soft spoken voice along with his habitual stutter speech pattern. Whilst he fidgeted a bit underneath your explicit worrisome expression as you fretted over his wellbeing like a mother hen.
“I only need to cut these stacks of paper for y-you with this cutter r-right? I’ll get on T-that right a-away!”
He managed in a squirrelly tone as he shakily grabbed ahold of the paper cutter. Lining up some blank pieces alongside the dotted lines with an unsteady hand.
It was his first couple days on the job and you found him to be quite the ditzy klutz but an endearing one nonetheless. It was refreshing how eager he is to always lend a helping hand even after he had just gotten off his shift. Which made you feel bad to ask him to come in to work when it was his day off since some of your employees decided not to come in for their shift.
“Wait Temothy dear you’re holding it the wrong way—!”
“Ouch! Oh my stars I’m t-terribly sorry B-boss! I got it all fuckin b-bloody! Ah paper towels… where’s the paper towels?”
You couldn’t believe your eyes and what you were hearing. Was this man seriously worried about how he dirtied the cutter station to which he earnestly tried to clean. While the skin on his palm was sliced open from pinky to thumb. And was bleeding rapidly as bloody rivets ran down his inner wrist.
“Temothy forget about the cutter and papers okay? You don’t need to worry bout none of that. What we need to do is patch you up first and foremost”
You cooed as you briskly took his uninjured hand in yours and ushered him to your office where you always had a health kit stored underneath your desk. Completely missing how his breathing slowed and his wide eyes dilated into small heart pinpricks.
“Y-yes Boss…thank you for c-caring I’ll be sure to return this d-debt”
His usual timid expression darkened into something more depraved as a small fanged smile made its way onto his chapped lips. Of which he licked as he gave an experimental squeeze to your hand only to shiver in delight when you responded back in kind.
No one had ever been this kind to him, due to his bad luck he’s always the type to be scoffed at without as much as a second glance. Hell it was a miracle that he even landed this job as your assistant in the first place. But now that he was here he intended to stay permanently and serve you for the rest of your days as your loyal assistant. Whether you liked it or not, you couldn’t ever get rid of him not when you’ve already gave him your hand to hold near in dear to his heart.
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signedkoko · 2 months
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(separate) lucifer and striker with an s/o who fell from the heavens headcanons!! the more closer they get, the more they realize their s/o was one of the angels on the council but didn’t condone the extermination — of which, they were casted down to hell.
Lucifer | Striker X Reader [Romantic]
In which they know you are a fallen angel, but not the extent to which you protected hell. Reader is genderneutral.
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Lucifer could sense your presence quite fast
But only because you weren't an exterminator—no, you were something far stronger
It pained him to see a new angel cast down, the first since he was, bloodied and caught in the fiery pit you'd have to call home
He understood you must have been an angel that came along after him, though, because he didn't recognize you
Either way, Lucifer offered you a place to stay and let you adjust to life in hell through his lens—a safe house where demons couldn't bother you as much
Of course, he also wanted to make sure the news of your existence didn't get out
He could only imagine the kinds of people who might want to get their hands on a fresh angel
Even though he was cast down himself, Lucifer is very flattered that you know him and that you speak so highly of him
You quickly worm your way into his heart, and he loves talking to you a lot about his past and all the things he kept buried within him
Even down here, you still seemed happy, although a tad uneasy
He won't pressure you for your backstory too much, but with his knowledge of heaven he is able to gather that you were at least a mid-ranking angel on the council
Your position exactly, he wasn't sure
He only found out after he spoke about his daughter's plan with the hotel
" Thats a wonderful idea! They may cast me down for demanding an end to extermination, but I won't let them ruin your daughters redemption plans. "
You dropped it so casually that he almost missed it, swooning at how supportive of Charlie you were
Actually chokes
Please give him a moment to catch his breath because, wait, really?
That explains a lot, at least
Of course, heaven would cast down the most beautiful of angels just for being kind to even the most damned beings
That same anger within him roars back to life, both for you being shut down and for how he, too, was treated in heaven
He'd make sure your life was far better here, no matter what it took
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Being a fallen angel is already an extremely worrisome background for Striker, especially following his hate for royalty
Not that a fallen angel is royalty, but the power dynamic is hard for him to get over, as guilty as he feels now for holding it against you
When you first met, he saved you from another bounty hunter
Saved is the wrong word
He stole you so he could get a prize himself
But it all backfired when you were just so kind and curious, and offering you up to some terrible people didn't feel like the right move
Striker told himself he'd hold onto you until he knew the true value of an angel, but that may have just been him stalling for time
Either way, your charm worked wonders, and now he was stuck with the most attention-grabbing partner in all of hell
Oh well, he knew he could protect you
While he was curious about your life in heaven, Striker was extremely used to not asking questions about others past
But the more he knew, the more he wanted to know
Every few months, you'd tell a story that revealed a new interesting piece of information, things that made him wonder what you had to have done to be so harshly cast down
It all made sense when he puzzled it together one afternoon, when you were particularly fond of your past memories
" I hope Em isn't in trouble too. "
" Why so? "
" Well, she also thought killing demons was pretty bad... "
" Of course, hun. "
As usual he nods along with you before he freezes and jumps out of his chair
" Hol on now, what? "
Striker is able to puzzle things together fast, and he's not sure if he's more pissed at the angels above you or if he's surprised you felt that way
He'd always assumed no angels thought good of demons, but this changed things
Next extermination, he wants to have a hand at capturing one of those winged fuckers and seeing if he can force some more out of them
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Author's Note - DEVIL FINALLY I GOT TO UR REQ!!! More Striker content, love to see it- and ofc Lucifer, who I know is about to be eaten up by every person in this god forsaken community. Thank you for requesting 🖤
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