#IS ONE TUGGING AT THE DEMONS AND THE OTHER TUGGING AT THE FANGS? PITTING THEM AGAINST EACHOTHER SO THEY KILL EACHOTHER? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sserpente · 2 years

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Heart of Fire

Synopsis: Imagine being a powerful demoness from Muspelheim. One day, a mischievous and stunning god ends up in your realm and before the other demons can reduce him to ashes, you decide to take him under your wing. As a handsome raven-haired Frost Giant with a silver tongue, Loki will make the perfect pet... no?

A/N: This whole Oneshot is inspired by an amazing drawing by @marietta-kerdzevadze. Y’all have to check it out here! Enjoy reading, everyone!

Words: 9041 Warnings: smut, demoness!Reader, dub-con, (reluctant) sub!Loki

This story contains themes that may be offensive and/or triggering for some readers. Please be aware that this is only a piece of fiction and make sure to heed the warnings before proceeding. For more information on the topic of dark themes, please refer to my FAQ.

The screams were always louder at this time of the day. It was when all those poor and unfortunate souls who had gone astray and found themselves in the depths of Muspelheim. And not all demons were good. Some of them sure did enjoy the smell of burning flesh.

Truth be told, most demons were not evil either. On a scale from one to ten… you would consider yourself to be a solid six. At the end of the day, what greater purpose did it serve to burn trespassers alive? You only killed to make ends meet. Out of love. Out of revenge.

But either way, that did not stop you from stopping by the fire pit every now and then. It might have been a literal hellhole but quite an adventure nonetheless. You had seen it all. Kree, vampires, gods, species whose name you couldn’t even pronounce.

“Anything interesting today?” You called out. The demon in charge of the fire pit looked nothing like you. He had two long horns sticking out of his forehead, a split tongue and reddish skin that was burning hot to the touch, and his nails, long enough to make it rather difficult for him to clasp the long leash in his fists, were sharp and black.

“The usual scum,” he replied.

You, on the other hand, were the embodiment of a goddess—a demon goddess destined to control the fires of Muspelheim. You were only one of many, blessed with both immortality and beauty. Truly the only physical trait you shared with the demon before you were your bright yellow eyes that turned red whenever you used your fire powers in any way. That… and the sharp canines that resembled the fangs of a vampire.

With your head tilted, you skimmed your eyes over what had gotten caught in the fire pit. And then you saw him. The raven-haired god with the sharp jawline and cheekbones to die for. Blue eyes bore into yours, his thin lips parting. He was sweating, on his knees, breathing heavily. He was stunning.

“Who is that?” Intrigued, you pointed at him. His eyes narrowed.

“That? Keeps rambling about being a god.”

You chuckled. “I figured this much.”

“I am a god!” He bellowed. Damn. His voice was sexy. Dark, smooth, like it was able to convince you to do almost anything. “I am Loki, the rightful king of Jötunheim and I demand—“

“Loki? You are an Asgardian god? How did you end up here?”

The demon gave you an annoyed huff. “I have no time for chit-chat. Time to say goodbye, god of whatever you are.”

Loki’s eyes widened. And for a good reason too. It would be a shame to turn that pretty face to ashes.

“Wait! I want to keep this one. Do with the others as you will.”

“You’ll stop bothering me then?” The demon growled. You winked at him when he grabbed Loki’s arm and dragged him towards you. The god stood, his expression both menacing and threatening. A smirk tugged at the corners of your red lips. Three, two, one…

A dagger materialised in his hand the very moment your eyes turned bright red. You leaned back almost casually when he drew back but just before the tip of the blade could penetrate your skin you breathed out a surge of fire, melting his weapon down.

Loki let go of it just before it could singe his skin. The shocked expression on his face was priceless.

“Cute. You’re gonna be a fun pet.”

“I am no one’s pet,” he growled, making you grin.

“That’s where you’re wrong. You are my pet now.” You paused, eying him up and down. He truly was nice to look at even despite all the sweat making that raven hair stick to his skin. “So… You’re a Frost Giant then? King of Jötunheim? You’re not going to like the heat around here. It’ll be difficult to keep you cool but we’ll figure something out. Come with me. Let me show you your new home.”

Still hostile and even more reluctant, Loki, much to your surprise, indeed followed you. He was smart. He probably knew that his usual tricks wouldn’t get him very far as of right now. He was observant, biding his time. You would have to be careful with this one—but you already knew exactly how to keep him in check.

Whatever he had expected to see in your so-called home, he appeared utterly confused by his surroundings. Your domain wasn’t exactly a palace but it was yours. There was no paint on the cave-like walls, no paintings or pictures that would have made the place more homely.

You had a queen-sized bed with pitch-black velvet bedsheets, a dressing table with a mirror and a dark purple velvet chair, and a wardrobe twice your size to store your personal items and clothes. Apart from that and the lit candles in the room hanging from a chandelier on the ceiling, it must have felt incredibly impersonal to him. Well, Muspelheim was not Asgard, after all. Odin had made sure of that.

Loki strutted further into the room, clearly suspicious of what he would be met with next while you rummaged through a drawer in your wardrobe. Soon, your fingers closed around the leather collar that you had once used for the shape-shifting creature you had kept as a pet in your childhood. You smiled to yourself. The leather was enchanted, it would block magic of any kind, including Loki’s seidr.

Quickly, you moved around him, slinging the collar around his neck. He spun around fast just when you clasped the collar shut and the metal locked in place, molten together in a way he would not be able to take it off himself. Something told you this was not the first time he had gotten collared, in what way, however, you were more than anticipated to find out. He did look like the type of god who got himself into trouble, after all.

“There we go. Nice and tight.” You winked at him, clearly fuelling his anger. Fuming, he clawed at the leather, attempting to pry it off to no avail. It was a fraction of a second later he realised.

You chuckled. “You didn’t honestly think I’d let you keep your magic, now did you? See, I know I am way more powerful in this realm than you are… but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid. I’m not going to fall asleep next to you knowing that you have the strength to kill me.”

“A pathetic collar is not going to stop me from doing just that.” He spat.

“We’ll see. Now get out of those clothes. They’re dirty. And you are in desperate need of a shower.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Take your clothes off,” you repeated slowly. “Let me take a proper look at you. I’m gonna see you naked sooner or later anyway and I will get you out of these clothes. Don’t make things difficult. I’m gonna treat you nicely if you behave.”

Loki growled. It was an almost animalistic sound that sent pleasant shivers up and down your spine—and a jolt of electricity to the spot right between your legs. You decided to wait another moment for him to comply but either way, you had no desire to rip those clothes off of him. You wanted him to obey you on his own accord—because he knew what’s good for him.

“No?” You asked when he just kept staring daggers at you instead. “Very well. You can sleep on the floor then. I’m not letting you into my bed like that. I might be a demoness but I do appreciate hygiene. The washing chambers are over there. There is no cold-water but judging by the way you smell, I wouldn’t recommend that anyway.”

“Lovely. Very charming.”

“You’ll get used to it.” You smirked at him. Knowing that Loki would be unable to do any harm with that collar on, you walked past him and sat down in front of your dressing table to remove your jewellery and accessories to get more comfortable for the night. Your fisher net gloves came off first, followed by your ruby drop earrings and your snake-shaped necklace. Intimidation was key—besides, you liked looking badass.

Curious as to what your new pet would do in the meantime, you watched him pacing back and forth through the mirror. The glances he kept giving you were delicious. You’d only love to find out what was going on in that pretty head of his. Perhaps in time, he’d even grow to love you. All pets did, eventually. Asgardian gods were no different than bloodthirsty wolves if you gave them love, food and kept them warm—or cold, in his case. There was one, crucial distinction though. Loki was a man. And there was nothing that would stop you from fucking him on every possible surface of your home sooner or later.

You chuckled when eventually, he gave in and strutted into the washing chambers, albeit not undressing right before you. You wondered how soon he would realise that he had no clean clothes to put on once he had taken that shower—and that without his magic, you were the only one who could help him out.

“Good morning,” you mused. He did look adorable asleep, like a vulnerable young man who had been through way too much. You wondered just what exactly that was.

Loki had been fighting sleep for hours. Evidently, he did not feel safe enough to close his eyes around you but eventually—and perhaps after he had realised that you had let him off the hook for the day—his worn-out body won the battle and he succumbed to sleep… even if he had done so on your dressing chair. Well, that would change soon enough.

What did Frost Giants slash Asgardians eat? Muspelheim hardly offered fresh fruit or vegetables. As a demoness, your diet mainly consisted of different kinds of meat which you sometimes ate raw too and the bitter weed that grew in the heat of the fire realm that you used for salads and garnish.

You didn’t know what Loki liked, so you went to get a bit of everything Muspelheim had to offer, returning to him with a selection of bread, bilgesnipe milk and various meat spreads. Sweets on the other hand were hard to get a hold of. Perhaps you’d find some at the market.

Loki glared at you as soon as his conscious mind had reminded him of where he was, and, much more importantly, what he was now.

“I doubt it was comfortable to sleep in a towel all night. I got you some trousers.” You said, handing him the pair. It was made of leather and would compliment his strong legs… and that gorgeous behind.

Loki furrowed his brows, taking them from you hesitantly. “Just trousers?”

“You won’t need any other clothes, pet.” You winked at him. “Besides, you’ll get hot around here eventually. Especially being a Frost Giant. You should thank me for not having to sweat through all those layers of clothing you arrived with here.”

“Where are they?” He snapped. “That was fine Asgardian leather!”

“Calm down. I’ve sent them away to be cleaned outside the city. You’ll get them back… at some point. If you behave,” you added quietly. Loki glared at you once more, the hostility radiating off of him like the surging fire in the pit.

He moved to put them on, presumably wanting to lock himself in your washing chambers to do so but this time, you were faster. Your patience was growing thin and your arousal kept growing. You wanted this man, wanted to taste every fibre of his being. You’d make him want you sooner or later too. For now, you would just have to show him what life with you would hold in store for him.

Grinning wickedly, you pulled away the towel before he had a chance to react. When he tried to reach for it, you burned it before his eyes, making him breathe out angrily. With his free hand, Loki attempted to cover up his private parts and failed rather comically.

Even if its flaccid form, his member was quite impressive. A little longer than average and just the perfect girth to wrap your hands around… or your mouth… or your warm and wet walls.

You took his hand in yours when he opened his mouth to protest, moving it away to take a proper look. He truly was a god. Grabbing his collar when he attempted to lunge at you, you heated the leather just enough to give him a warning. Not hot enough to hurt him but hot enough for him to hesitate.

“Loki…” You began sternly, “I have been really patient with you. But it’s about time you start obeying me. You should be grateful, you know. I took you in, saved you from being burned alive which, I can imagine, is one of the worst fates a Frost Giant can suffer, and I have been nothing but nice to you so far. Continue with this attitude and I promise you’ll get to know a different side of me.”

“It is unwise to threaten a god, demoness.”

“It is unwise to threaten a demoness, Loki”, you countered calmly. “And I expect you to call me ‘mistress’ when we are in public. In private… I’ll let you call me by my name… if you behave.”

“You never even told me your name.” He bellowed.

Smiling weakly, you gave it to him. There was a probability it was dangerous to give him your true name—names held power, after all. But he was yours and he was not going anywhere.

“Now be a good pet,” you continued. “I just wanna see what my new toy has to offer. Please?”

Smirking, you ran your fingertips over his soft member, the velvety skin making you bite your lower lip. He responded to your touch almost instantly. Loki groaned when you repeated the motion, watching him twitch until eventually, he started growing hard.

“There we go…” You murmured. You licked your lips now, eager to see him come undone for you. In the future, you’d make him earn his pleasure, you wanted him to know his place after all but for now… for now, you were almost desperate to see what he was like when he drowned in the sensations you made him experience.

“You will regret this.” He growled, his attempts to stifle his moans failing with every single stroke of yours that now followed. Working him up, your smirk grew wider when you noticed that Loki began to buck his hips unwillingly, seeking the blissful treatment you were bestowing upon him.

“Take… your… hands… off me…” He breathed out. You chuckled.

And then, he threw his head back, giving up all that control that he so desperately held on to. Perhaps it was in the heat of the moment, his body aching for your touches, realising that you were making him feel good even if his mind was fighting it.

His lips were parted, you could see his Adam’s apple bopping when he swallowed thickly. Watching him greedily, you sped up your movements. You reached for his balls with your other hand, massaging them gently. Loki’s moans grew louder until finally, tensing up, he came.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of him as his orgasm rippled through him and his hard throbbing members twitched in your grip. His seed came spurting out of the tip, staining both his bare stomach and your hand. You stopped your movements for a second, careful not to overstimulate him and far too mesmerised to do anything but observe this beautiful man during one of his most intimate moments.

And then, after a few more strokes to make sure you got every last drop out of him, you drew your hand away. You resisted the urge to lick your fingers clean and taste him. Another time. Instead, you wiped them with the small hand towel on your dressing table and then handed it to him so he could do the same.

“Did that feel good?” You mused. Oh, if looks could kill. Loki positively looked like he was about to murder you… or pounce on you. One of the two. Perhaps even both at the same time. You hummed contently. He would get the opportunity to do the latter soon enough.

“You can get dressed now… if you like.” You winked. “I brought you breakfast. I’m not sure what you normally like to eat so I brought a bit of everything.” Genuine surprise flew across his face when he noticed the jute bag full of food but only a fraction of a second later, his hostile demeanour returned.

“Well I’m not hungry”, he snapped.

Your expression faltered. There was something about the hatred in his voice that made your heart clench.

You cleared your throat, scaring the odd feeling in your chest away and motioned for him to follow you. “You might change your mind at the market?”

Right before he could step through the door, however, you stopped him and reached for the silver chain you had brought with you this morning. A silver chain that came with a hook on one end. A leash.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I can’t have you running away, now can I?”

“Know this. Once I have found a way to free myself, I will make you wish you had never been born.”

You knew better than to wait for Loki to move back and make things difficult for himself. With but a quick motion, you attached the leash to his collar and then eyed him up and down. He looked outrageously hot. Barefoot, with those tight leather trousers and shirtless, his raven hair falling over his shoulders and complimenting his pale skin, the leather colour around his neck, attached to the silver chain in your hands… and those reddened cheeks that were still flushed from his orgasm.

“Let’s go.”

You could tell he was about to protest once more, so you took the decision from him—this time. He would have to keep up with you anyway.

The building you dragged him through resembled an underground castle more than a place for demons and other humanoid creatures to live in. It wasn’t renovated or painted—instead, there were carved walls and a dirty ground, torches lighting the way and casting eerie shadows.

So when you stepped out into the light, Loki squinted. You smirked. Muspelheim’s sunlight was a little different from Asgard’s for sure. It was reddish more than anything—drowning everything in an orange hue. It was what you would consider a beautiful warm day. And it was hot. Hotter than what your new pet was probably used to.

The further you took him, the more Loki began to pant quietly. Another five minutes passed until he was covered in his own sweat. Stopping dead in your tracks, you eyed him up and down, concern washing over you. Well, you hadn’t expected him to succumb to the heat this fast.

“Are you okay?”

“You are walking me on a leash like a dog, half-naked,” he spat with narrowed eyes, “What do you think?”

“I meant the heat, Loki,” you replied warningly, “I don’t want you to faint on me.”

“As if you care.”

“Believe it or not, I do.” And that was the truth. You liked the hostile God of Mischief and all of his snarky comments—even if you wished he would trust you enough to know you wanted to keep him safe here.

“Come on. The market is that way. The merchants have awnings, you can recover from the sun underneath.”

You pulled at the leash when he refused to move, dragging him forward. You had to admit, it was both empowering and arousing to watch him in this compromising position.

The first couple of merchants sold things you didn’t really need. There were tools and other trinkets for home building, things that served no purpose if you didn’t have the intention to melt them all down to make your own stuff out of them.

You were much more interested in the food and the foreign artefacts. There was one seller in particular who always found the rarest things around Muspelheim—and he passed them on to others, in exchange for the right price.

Excited, you stopped in front of his stall, curious as to what he had on offer today. He greeted you briefly, avoiding exchanging more than a few necessary words with you. You sighed. They were all the same.

“Who is that then?” He suddenly asked, pointing at the man you had on the leash.

“That?” You grinned. “My new pet. His name is Loki.”

The merchant raised his eyebrows. “Nice to meet you, Loki. Got lucky, huh?”

“Lucky?” He repeated incredulously, yanking at the leash, almost costing you your balance.

“You would be dead by now if she hadn’t picked you up from the pit.” Loki frowned. But when he sought out your glance, you avoided him and instead pretended to be interested in the little snow globe on the table.

The God of Mischief turned away. A few moments of silence followed.

“Where did you get that?” You suddenly heard him say. “That book is from Asgard’s Royal Library.” He pointed at the book, a reproachful tone playing in his voice. You raised your eyebrows, curious to know what had caught his attention. It was an old book with a few ripped pages and a battered spine.

“You’d be surprised about how many things end up in this realm.”

Loki picked it up, studying the back of it briefly. Whatever it was, his eyes lit up like those of a kid setting eyes on a Yule tree for the first time.

You smiled. “Do you want it?”

Loki snapped his head in your direction, quite possibly looking for the catch. When he didn’t respond and merely stared at you, you sighed, retrieving the satchel on your left thigh.

“How much?”

“Ten gold pieces.”

“Ten? Are you having a laugh? Five!”

“Seven!” The merchant retorted. You rolled your eyes.

“Six. And you’ll also give me that lovely green bookmark over there.” You had noticed it before already—and you had a feeling Loki would like it. Besides, it would come in handy once he had that book in his possession.

“Fine,” he spat when you handed him the money. “Bloody outcasts…”

“I’d be careful if I were you. Have you not heard the rumours of me walking through walls? Would be a shame if I had to come visit you at night to slit your throat.”

The merchant turned pale. You glared at him, turning on your heel and tearing Loki with you, away from the stall.

Even though the days were short on Muspelheim at this time of the year, you knew you should head back home soon if you didn’t want Loki to suffer from a heatstroke even if he looked adorable with those flushed cheeks.

You had been showing him around the realm for hours, stopping for lunch and a break at the only cool water fountain there was. Loki had not missed a single opportunity to mock you and insult your intentions—but he had been grateful for the water.

Back in your living place, you took the leash off him, allowing him to roam the cave-like room freely. You could tell he was tired though. The heat had worn him out—it would take him a lot longer to get used to the temperatures in this hot realm. You would have to think of a solution. Perhaps you could even get him some ice. It was expensive, of course. In a world of fire like this, ice was a rarity and incredibly hard to source, sustain or even get hold of.

“You like to read and evidently, you like the taste of chocolate”, you started. “How is beyond my understanding, that sweet stuff is disgusting but you do. Tell me more about you, Loki. What was it like to grow up on Asgard?”

“It was dull and disappointing. Outsiders are not exactly welcome in this realm.” He responded. You raised your eyebrows. Was he referring to himself? He was a prince. Son of the mighty Odin. You didn’t like the bearded Allfather but at least he kept the nine realms in check.

“I am going to get washed,” he announced then, disappearing into the washing chambers. You considered joining him for a moment but, given the attitude he still met you with, perhaps you should take things slowly.

In any case, he had enjoyed how you had played with him today even if you were very well aware that he would never admit it. And his reactions… so very sweet. He looked adorable when he fought to remain in control only to give in eventually once he had realised that it was pointless to resist, pointless to struggle… that you had only wanted to make him feel good.

The time would come when you would ask for something in return. First, you had to make him grow used to you though—just like a real pet.

“You could at least make it comfortable,” he complained when he stepped out of the washing chambers again, all the sweat from the day washed off of his body. Today, he didn’t hesitate. Almost superciliously, he strutted towards the bed and made himself comfortable. Granted, you had been occupying the dressing table, still, you were quite surprised that he had given up the protest about his sleeping situation so soon.

“It’s a leather collar, it should be comfortable. Why? Is it irritating your skin?” Frowning, stood and joined him on the bed, leaning in closer to inspect his throat. Your fingers ghosted over the soft material.

“Now don’t act like you care.”

Your gaze softened. “Loki… you’re my pet. Of course I care.”

“I’m not your pet,” he growled.

“The longer you are in denial, the harder you are making this for yourself.”

Loki shot you a menacing look. For a second, it was utterly still.

“Why did he call you an outcast? The merchant?” He suddenly asked then.

You looked away from him, avoiding his curious glance. “None of your business, that’s why.” You paused. “Let me put some cream on.”

You took a deep breath before climbing out of the bed to retrieve the medicine. Much to your surprise, Loki stayed put. You sat back down on him, leaning forward and screwing off the metal lid.

The cream was cool, it would soothe his skin overnight. Loki was watching your every move like a hawk—but he didn’t object.

“Better?” You asked once you were finished.

When he nodded, you smiled triumphantly. You set the cream aside, blew out the candle on your bedside table to drown you both in complete darkness and cuddled up to him. You could practically feel him tense up but when he realised that you were just getting comfortable to sleep—and, evidently, would use him as a pillow—he actually began to relax.

You smiled. Perhaps there was hope he’d come to enjoy his new life with you after all.

Loki was still asleep when you woke up the next day. And even in his sleep, he didn’t quite seem to be able to shake off his constant unease and vigilance. You did not doubt for a second that if you were to attack him, he would strike back in an instant—and you were sure he was aware of that too.

Careful, as to not wake him, you crawled out of bed and disappeared into your washing chambers to run yourself a nice hot bath. It was lovely… knowing that there was someone outside of the room, someone you could say “Good Morning” to. Smiling to yourself, you climbed into the stone tub once it had filled up—it was almost boiling, the perfect temperature for you, and sank back into the soothing warmth enveloping you.

Loki was without a doubt one of the most fascinating beings you had ever encountered. And now he was yours… all yours. With a sigh, you slid your hand between your legs, closing your eyes and picturing his face when he had come undone for you on your dressing chair. You recalled how hard and soft at the very same time his velvety skin had felt when you had jerked him off, remembered his heavy breathing and those delicious sounds he had made.

Your middle finger circled your clit, working yourself up until you grew wet. It was then you heard movement outside the washing chambers, sheets ruffling and then, footsteps nearing you.

Your face did not move a muscle when Loki stepped inside, his blue eyes instantly taking in your naked from submerged in the water. You had had to force yourself to move your hand away from your aroused cunt.

“Sleep well?” You asked, the corners of your mouth twitching. Loki did not answer. Instead, he strutted further into the room as if he owned the place, swallowing thickly the longer he blatantly stared at your exposed body.

“Would you like to join me? I’ll make sure to cool the water down so it’s comfortable for you?” You offered.

Loki scoffed in response. “No.” Instead, he opened up the heavy metal tab and began to wash his face. You chuckled. He sure was resisting his own pleasure. Unfazed, you stood in the tub. The warm air around you dried your skin almost immediately.

“Would you mind handing me a towel, pet?” You asked when he stood straight, noticing your change of position. He took a deep and sharp breath in, his eyes taking in every single inch of you… there was lust sparkling in them.

And then, much to your surprise, he did what you had asked him to do.

“Thank you. “ You gave him a genuine smile. “I was gonna go on a quest today to find you some ice. There’s got to be some way to keep it from melting.”

“I could make sure of it if I had my magic back.”

“Nice try, Trickster. But that’s not happening any time soon.” Drying yourself off, you stepped out of the tub. Loki did not move an inch out of the way.

“So?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “Did you sleep well?”

Unceremoniously, you let the towel drop, eyes locked with his. Loki swallowed once more, apparently determined to win the stare-down contest.

“I preferred the bed over the chair,” he finally said, making you smile.

“Hmm…” You took a step closer, cupping him. He breathed out, lips parted in a way there was no doubt he was anticipating whatever you’d do next.

“I want you to sleep with me, Loki. Let me fuck you.” You purred. Loki tensed up, his cock twitching against your palm. You grinned. Oh, he liked the dirty talk? You would give him dirty talk.

“I know you enjoyed what I did to you. The way I made you feel. You know what I am capable of and I have seen the way you look at my naked body. There is a part of you that wants this… that wants me. Don’t you want to feel it? My cunt clenching around your cock while you’re buried deep inside of me, milking you? Let me fuck you, Loki… please…” You repeated. You almost, almost, sounded innocent.

Loki was breathing heavily at this point, making you chuckle. As much as he resisted, it was surprisingly easy to get him all worked up. The sexual tension was tangible. Physically, you were more than just compatible and both his and your nature were urging you both on to act on the growing arousal between you.

Finally, you closed the remaining distance between you two and wrapped your hands around his neck to pull him close. Your lips came crashing down on his, luring him into a seductive kiss. It was the moment he reciprocated, moaning into your mouth, that you knew you had won.

Loki stood there almost paralysed when you began to tease his lower lip with your tongue, demanding entrance. His hands came up to take a hold of your naked waist when you deepened the kiss with your eyes closed, bathing in how the God of Mischief made you feel.

“Bed…” You breathed out against his lips, burying your hands in his hair and, not once breaking the kiss, dragged him back to bed where you pushed him back so you could crawl on top of him, straddling him.

The leather collar around his neck made you wanna pounce on him all the while he was looking up at you with those blue eyes full of longing and desire. He was covered in sweat already—you knew it was due to the warmth in this realm and yet, you’d take a wild guess he was feeling hot for entirely different reasons right now.

Grinning down at him almost devilishly, you moved your palms all over his exposed chest, feeling his muscles dance underneath your touch. You undid his trousers once you reached the hem of the fabric, slowly pulling them down just enough to reveal his hardening length.

He twitched when your fingertips brushed against him, only this time he would feel a lot more than just the skin of your palms.

You hummed at him, stroking him gently a couple of times. You were soaked—both from your solo fun in the bathtub earlier as well as the pending promise of getting to make this man underneath you yours.

Once he was hard and your fingers were coated with his precum, you grabbed a hold of his wrist and held them down to the sides of his head. He could break free, of course—you were not going to underestimate his physical strength—as for right now, however, he didn’t quite seem to want to get away from you; and that filled you with even more lust.

You kissed him again, almost devouring him on the spot all the while your slick lips kept brushing against his hard length. You were careful, yet impatient at the same time when you sat down on him slowly, impaling yourself on his cock until you had him sheathed deep inside of you.

It was like your bodies were made for one another. Moaning, you broke the kiss and threw your head back, enjoying the feeling of being joined with him before you started riding him like there was no tomorrow. There was no room for tenderness, no room for taking things slow.

You wanted Loki so much it almost physically hurt. This was savage, ruthless fucking, taking pleasure from your pet and rewarding him by returning the favour. Meanwhile, Loki’s gaze was fixed on your bouncing breasts. His pleasured grunts turned you on even more as you watched his hands curling into fists and when his eyes met yours, something inside both of you snapped.

This was right. This was unlike any sexual experience you had had before this. Circling your hips, you kept fucking him hard, right until the first whispers left his gorgeous lips. He was begging.

“Yes… please… don’t stop… don’t… stop…”

You had absolutely no intention of doing so and you could tell he was getting close fast—but so were you. Being on top and in utter control, you knew exactly how to angle yourself to have his cock hit all the right pleasure spots. But, before you were going to give him his release, you wanted more.

“Touch me, Loki…” You let go of his hands, not thinking twice about him obeying you just this once. And he did. Loki appeared to be almost in a trance when he reached out for one of your breasts, kneading it diligently. You whimpered when his thumb began playing with your nipple, his free hand sneaking down to where your bodies were joined to seek out your clit.

Of course he knew exactly what brought a woman the most pleasure down there. Who knew how many women he had brought joy before you but that did not matter anymore—he was all yours now.

Urging him on, your moans grew louder the more he massaged your sensitive bundle of nerves, figuring out quickly what you enjoyed. The closer you tumbled towards your orgasm, the louder Loki was panting, close to finding his own release.

“Don’t you… dare… cum before me…” You breathed out. By now, he was thrusting up to meet your frantic fucking, eager for the pleasure sparking between you to reach its peak.

“Oh… yes, don’t stop… please… Loki… don’t stop! I’m gonna… oh… shit…” You fell. Into the abyss, into utter darkness and light both at the same time. Your climax held you in its steel grip, making you clench around Loki’s cock, milking him for all he was worth. You kept riding him nonetheless, almost desperate to reward him for his obedience. Moving his hand away from your clit, you intertwined your fingers with his, leaning over him and looking him deeply in the eye.

“Cum for me, Loki…” You whispered, hungry to see him come undone for you again. Loki obeyed for the second time today. He closed his eyes, pressing his head into the pillow and exposing his collared neck to you as he came, his cock twitching against your walls, filling you up with his seed.

With but a couple more thrusts, you allowed him to ride out his orgasm and then collapsed on top of him, using his chest as a pillow and listening to his rapid heartbeat.

The next couple of days were filled with surprisingly pleasant silence, sex, getting used to one another’s presence and more sex. Loki was now… less hostile towards you, even though that did not stop him from making snarky remarks and as usual, making things difficult for himself. But whenever the two of you made passionate love, he was putty in your hands, eager to please you and desperate to find relief.

You had managed to elicit a few more details about himself even though for the most part, your pet was still a mystery to you. You decided it would add to the thrill. You quite liked his mischief and his spirit. There was, however, part of you, that longed for him to trust you fully, to acknowledge you were going to care for him. At times, Loki still looked at you like you were going to stab him in the back one day.

What was a lot more concerning, however, was how quickly he heated up every day. Drenched in sweat, he’d return to your home exhausted and panting—he just refused to admit it, still looking for a way out.

You had spoken to some demons at the market and one of you had guaranteed to find you ice that could be jinxed with seidr by a powerful witch from Anaheim so it would not melt in the heat of Muspelheim.

Loki only glared at you when you attached the leash to his collar and led him outside after the demon had contacted you again. You made sure that your pet could stand in the shade, protected from the sun.

“Thirty-thousand,” the demon said. “Ten-thousand as a deposit now so I know you can pay me in full.”

You almost choked. “Thirty-thousand? Have you lost your mind?” Hesitating, you took a glance at Loki who was already a sweating mess again. No. There was no way you could let him suffer like this day in and out. You sighed.

“Fine. But if you are screwing me over, I will make you wish you had never been born, is that understood? I expect this spell to work and to get quality wares for this price.” You snapped. You could practically feel Loki frown at you.

“It’s not melted yet, has it?” The demon nodded and when he turned away to move the handcart towards you, you pulled out the highest number of gold coins you had ever spent out of your satchel. This was your savings, almost all of it. The remaining twenty-thousand you would have to find a different solution for.

“You are hardly rich. This is a ridiculous amount of gold to spend on something as simple as ice,” Loki said matter-of-factly. You sighed once more, paying the demon and gently tugging at Loki’s leash so he’d follow you.

“I know. But this is Muspelheim. I am glad they could locate a witch to cast a spell over it in the first place. And if that’s the price I’ll have to pay to keep you cool and comfortable, I will do so.”

Loki’s frown deepened.

“Help me with the cart, will you? It’s heavy.” Too stunned to speak, so it seemed, Loki nodded and started pulling it along with him, returning to your living quarters.

Once you were back, you shivered when you touched the ice with your bare hands. “Such a fine line between life and death,” you said, chuckling. Loki said nothing in response, instead simply sat down on the pile and let out a breath of relief.

“Will you be fine with this?”

“It will keep me alive.” Your heart clenched. He could have said “Thank you” at least.

“You’re welcome, pet. But I’m afraid the ice will have to stay out of bed. The cold doesn’t favour my body just like the heat doesn’t favour yours.”

“It would make for a fair exchange.” He mocked.

As if to make a point, you took off your shirt, embracing the warmth and revealing your naked chest to him. His eyes darkened.

“It’s getting late. Help yourself to some bread and meat.” You sighed. “I’m getting ready for bed.”

Loki’s gaze, however, was still fixed on you, making you smirk. “Unless you’re hungry for something else?”

Biting your lower lip, you watched him swallow and reached for the leash to pull him close to you. His skin was cold from sitting on the ice, yet it seemed for the moment he was more than just willing to part with it for a little while.

Still smirking, you pushed him down on the bed, ignoring his mumbled protests. Your skirt came in handy today, especially because there was no need for underwear in a warm realm with no winds. You climbed atop of him, hovering your cunt right above his face.

Your dominant glance was all you needed to communicate to him what you wanted. And with Loki glancing at your pussy hungrily and licking his lips, your felt yourself growing wet already.

“Are you ready for me?”

“Yes,” he hissed.

“Yes what?”

Loki growled. “Yes… mistress.” He added reluctantly.

Smiling triumphantly, you sat down on his face, letting his tongue dart out to taste you. His lips felt like Valhalla on you, even more so when he wrapped them around your clit and started suckling on it. He ate you out like you were his last meal, like you were the best thing he had ever tasted in his whole life. Perhaps you were. Perhaps he was quite fond of you after all. During sex, it sure did feel like it.

Rocking your hips to create more friction, you buried your fingers in his raven hair, urging him on. Loki fucked you with his tongue, pampered your sensitive nub, lapped up your juices thirstily. He had you on the brink of orgasm in no time.

Digging his fingers into your butt cheeks, he almost appeared in a frenzy—so much that when you wanted to lift yourself up to let him breathe properly for a moment, he held you down like a starved vampire.

Loki moaned when you came on his tongue, drinking you up eagerly. Pleasure washed over you like liquid fire, numbing your senses, your cunt pulsing against his mouth. Loki made sure to swallow every drop of arousal you offered him, helping you ride out the wave of lust until it had faded away entirely.

It was only then he allowed you to get off his face so you came to sit on his lap. You pulled him into a sitting position, right into your arms. Your gaze was so full of love for him that there was no way in the nine realms he did not realise how you felt towards him.

“Your turn,” you then said with a wink. Loki leaned back again and, for the first time since you had taken him in, smirked at you. It was an invitation, a challenge. And you were not going to miss out on it.

Returning his smirk, you moved down to remove his trousers when suddenly, there was a blood-curling scream right outside your living quarters. Alarmed, you jumped up.

“What was that?” Loki asked.

You shook your head. “I have no idea. Stay here.”

Not caring about your nakedness, you made your way over to the entrance and peeked outside. Chaos. Utter chaos. Fire, smoke—more than usual—and high-ranked demons running amok with machetes and swords in hand, sliding other demons’ throats. Your eyes widened.

You had never seen such high-ranked demons around this part of Muspelheim before. Not since…

Breathing in sharply, you stopped one of the demons you regularly bought goods from at the market.

“What are they doing here? What is happening?”

“They’re cleansing the realm from lower life forms. You’ll be among the first, outcast.” You tensed up, flinching when you felt Loki’s presence behind you.

“I told you to stay where you are,” you hissed. Stomping past him, you got dressed and then frantically looked around your place. Your most meaningful belongings would have to do. For now, you had to flee. Quickly, you started packing. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…

“You are not a demon…” You suddenly heard someone say through gritted teeth.

“I can assure you I am much more powerful than a mere demon,” Loki responded threateningly.

“Loki, no!”

“Oh, I am certain you will burn all the faster then. How powerful can you be if you’re kept on a leash like a dog?”

Dropping your bag, you sprinted towards him just when the demon conjured up a wave of flames. Loki covered his face, stumbling back and dropping to the ground.

“Loki!” Panicked, you rushed over to him. Much to your relief, once the fire dissolved into thin air, he appeared unharmed for the most part—that was until you saw his forearms were burnt badly. And it was not the only damage the demon had done.

Loki’s collar had come off. Your lips parted. Now he would leave you too. And if he was anything like what you expected him to be, he would take revenge and kill you before those high-ranked demons got a chance to do so. But at least he had his seidr back and would make it out of here alive.

“Outcast…” The demon spat when he spotted you. Weapon drawn, he approached you with fast steps, ready to slit your throat. You ducked away, escaping the blade by mere inches and bumping into Loki who was already on his feet again. But before you could fight back and attempt murder yourself, the God of Mischief wrapped his arms around your middle and turned you both around.

Next thing you knew, you were tossed through a portal shimmering in different shades of green. Ice cold air enveloped you, the both of you hitting the hard ground. It took you a moment to realise that you had landed in the snow.

Panicking, you stood back up, brushing the snow from your body. The sudden change of temperature came like a shock to your body. Shaking like leaves in the wind, you looked around. You were not on Muspelheim anymore. This… this was a realm of ice.

“W-where are we? Did you bring us here?”

Loki was entirely unfazed by the cold. He nodded. “This is Jötunheim.”

“Jötunheim? I will be dead before sunrise!”

“It is in fact daytime,” he mocked, watching you panic before him. “I’d expect a little more gratitude,” he said then. “I just saved your life.”

You clenched your fists. “Gratitude? I could have killed him, Loki, you were the one who was useless before he melted off your collar.”

“And who put the collar on me?” He snapped, his loud voice echoing through the cold air. Daggers materialised in his hands, not because he meant to attack you but to intimidate you. You scoffed. You knew it was stupid of you to use your powers now that you were in a realm of ice, for you would need them to stay warm for as long as possible—but this was to prove a point.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you breathed out a surge of fire. This time, however, Loki didn’t even flinch away. He smirked when you realised that his weapons were still intact.

“Heat resistant blade. I am not making the same mistake twice.” He had barely spoken the words in full before he backed you up against the bottom of a cliff, pressing you against the frozen rock.

“Oh, how the tables have turned, no?” Loki chuckled, grabbing a hold of your chin to force you to look up at him. You swallowed thickly.

“You’ll leave me out here to die now,” you concluded bitterly. Much to your surprise, however, Loki frowned at you.

“I will do no such thing. In the end, I suppose you did keep me alive in his hellhole. Letting you keep your life in return would only be just. And I have grown to enjoy the physical aspect of our little… arrangement.” Loki chuckled when you didn’t know how to respond. “You did not truly think you could make me your pet, now did you, demoness? In fact…” He grinned. “It appears you are my pet now.”

You shivered. Whether it was from the cold or Loki’s threat… or promise… you were unsure.

“The higher-ranked demons tried to kill you. Why?” He asked then, tilting his head. “They kept calling you an outcast.”

You sighed, wrapping your arms around yourself to keep warm. There was no point keeping it from him anymore now.

“Because I didn’t conform to the rules of the society those demons have created centuries back. I don’t want to be a pet to a higher-ranked demon, a brainless wife who spends her days pleasing her husband… or work myself to death for them. My reputation sank until no other demon wanted anything to do with me anymore. When the council gave me one last chance by offering me a place in a harem for a council member, I refused and I was cast out. According to the greater population of Muspelheim, I no longer belong to society.” You paused, glaring at him. “Are you happy now?”

“So you decided to enslave others yourself? By keeping me? You have no idea what I am capable of, pet. I warned you back then. I warned you not to get on my bad side and yet here we are now.”

“I didn’t seem to be on your bad side only an hour ago, with my cunt on your face.” You spat.

Loki’s expression darkened, his entire demeanour changing.

“Kneel.” He demanded.

Your heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“Kneel before me.” His tone allowed for no contradiction and strangely… you found yourself compelled to do as you were told. You were at his mercy now. He was right. The tables had turned and he now held your life in his hands.

Angry at yourself because of the tears forming in your eyes, you sank to the cold ground, your knees burning as soon as the ice came in contact with your bare skin.

“I treated you well,” you pressed out. “When we slept together I believed you don’t despise me as much as you pretended you do.”

“I don’t.” Surprised, you looked up at him.

“I felt lonely. When I saw you… in the pit… it was almost like I found a missing puzzle piece. I was enamoured with you, p-… Loki. I will not apologise for making you mine.”

“You did make me yours,” he whispered in response. You frowned. W-what? “I told you I quite enjoyed the physical aspect of your idiotic demonstration of power over me.”

“Don’t make it out like I’m weak!” You hadn’t imagined it then. Loki did feel something for you, regardless of whether that was purely physical or… or more.

“You are weak here, pet. This is my birth realm. You are a helpless little demoness who should be begging me to take care of her.” Loki paused, struggling with himself. “In any case… I would like to uphold that part of our arrangement. Only now the roles are reversed. As it should be.”

A sob escaped your lips. The cold was beginning to take a toll on you, clawing at you. It felt like the icy air was attempting to scrape your skin right off of you, tearing you further to the cold ground. And then, suddenly… peace. No pain, no discomfort… only the unbearable cold.

“W-what…”

“I cast a spell that will keep you warm enough to keep you from perishing in this realm. Come on now. We need to find shelter. It’s a long journey to the palace.”

“Palace?” You were still processing his words. A spell… he was keeping you warm, keeping you from dying… you bit your lower lip.

“Oh, have you forgotten?” Loki smirked mischievously. “I am the rightful king of Jötunheim. And you, my pet, will come to enjoy your new life here. Sooner or later.”

You gasped for air when a presumably heat-resistant collar materialised around your neck, attached to a leash whose other end he was holding.

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

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robotspacealien · 2 years

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Praeterita non Dimittet

Very self-indulgent, far-future Pitfighter au fic, not beta read

His internal time clock indicated that the sun would still not be up for some time and still had tens of a percentage left before his recharge cycle was complete, yet Megatron was pulled out of rest; though this time it would seem that it wasn’t his system glitching or old habits of a gladiator having woken him.

Beneath him from where he lay curled around his conjux, Optimus twitched and flinched as he recharged, his otherwise dormant field spiking in panicked, irregular waves. Under his audial where he had laid his helm on one of the flat glass planes of his conjux’s chest he could hear the hard thud of a fuel pump and the zap of electricity that arced off a spark spinning far too fast.

Nightmares, undoubtedly.

Megatron further draped an arm around Optimus in sympathy. Both of them were prone to unpleasant data leaks in their recharge, it was one of the many side effects of the kind of life they'd lived in the Pit and the deep scars it left on their processors. He moved to further pull Optimus into his embrace, settling his field in a soothing blanket around the other, but as he tugged him closer there was a sudden, deep gasp of vents and a frame going from lax to stiff in his hold in an instant. There was a moment of tense silence as Optimus was suddenly awake and sitting as stock-still and wound tight as a captured animal.

Megatron, too, had frozen in place, only moving to slowly lift his head to look at Oprimus. He was met with an almost stunned wide-opticed stare, Optimus’ optics darting around with no recognition in them- clearly half-online with a foot still in his recharge flux. When his optics finally stopped on Megatron, he might as well have seen a complete stranger, the field striking out and cutting aggressively through his own, the flash of fangs, and the deep, dangerous growl of a powerful convoy engine confirmed as much.

"Op-"

“Get off of me.” Optimus hissed.

Megatron loosened his hold immediately, shifting to oblige and sit up off of him- and caught Optimus by the wrist as he blindly launches a first at him. Almost immediately upon having it in his grip he wishes he'd just let his conjux hit him, because now Optimus was struggling, forcing Megatron to snatch his other wrist too as Optimus raked his claws down his side and over sensitive abdominal vents.

“Optimus," he growls, "be still.” He says firmly, gripping both arms tightly in his hands and quickly straddling the Prime to keep him from throwing his weight in his half-awake attempt to escape.

To his credit, Optimus did go still again, in that tense, captured way, but he was looking at Megatron instead of an escape route, face turned to the side and staring from the corner of one optic, trembling ever so minutely as he searched his face. He looked every bit like that out of place datacaste he once was in that moment, brows drawn up and angry with teeth still bared with the promise of retaliation. Soon though, the connections began to reestablish in his processor and Megatron watched as Optimus’ face relaxed, optics softening and field easing but still swirling with the static of anxiety. Slowly, he turned his face back towards Megatron, looking at him straight-on, his mate seeing him again and not whatever old demon his processor had conjured up. His engine settled, gear by gear.

Megatron lets a relieved sigh out of his vents, “Yes, it’s just me.” He says gently, “C’mon and boot up all the way, you are safe.”

Optimus swallows and vents slowly, deeply, air in, air out and Megatron lets his arms slip from his grasp, his hands falling to rest on his thighs where he quickly finds handholds to grip onto and anchor himself. Megatron remains sitting up where he is perched over his mate’s midsection; there is a fiercely protective part of him that wants to shield Optimus with his body as he watches him pull himself fully into the present, as if he could put himself between his conjux and their shared past. He restrains himself though, waiting until his intentions could not be misunderstood by a booting processor, so instead he lays his hands over where Optimus’ own are hooked into his armor and rubs a thumb in soothing circles over the back of one palm.

Finally, after a long klik, Optimus’ frame relaxes with one last, deep cycle of air through his systems, a gust of wind whooshing out through his vents.

"Are you here with me, Optimus?" Megatron’s voice is soft.

The Prime lets go of Megatron’s thigh to pull the large hand resting over his up towards him, turning it over and pushing his face into the palm of it with a low trill, "I am, yes." He breathes and then his optics fixate on something at his midsection, brows furrowing against his crest, “I’m sorry for hurting you.” He says, his other hand moving up to trace over where his claws had left gashes in his armor and Megatron looks down to see the energon welling up in the cuts and trickling down his side.

Megatron lays a hand over the one at his side, the area warm already with self-repair routines, “Do not apologize,” he says and the troubled expression on Optimus’ face has him giving into himself, moving to cover his mate until their frames were flush hip-to-chest, their fields meshing with Megatron countering the soft, apologetic, yet still anxious, whirl of Optimus’ with the firm, comforting press of his own, “Primus knows I’ve woken up badly and hurt you all the same if not worse.” Though his last incident was vorns ago now and Megatron had slung him out of berth so hard he hit the adjacent wall, the resulting fractured spinal struts were hardly comparable to some scratches.

Optimus kisses the corner of the lips Megatron didn’t realize he had pursed in a closed-mouth grimace, “Don’t dwell on it, my champion.” He says, as he smooths a hand over Megatron’s helm then down the back of it and resting it there, fondly purring the glyphs of that old endearment not just in that rumbling Kaonite accent he often falls back into even as Prime, but in Kaoni, the sound of it never fails to make Megatron soft at spark.

Megatron can't help but return fondness in kind, resting their foreheads together with a soft click of metal as crest met browridge, “As you wish, my archivist.”

#transformers #maccadam #maccadams #pitfighter pax #tfp #tf au #transformers au #megatron #Optimus prime #megop #transformers fanfiction #fanfic

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obae-me · 3 years

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Upside Down CH-1

Author’s Note: Hi, yes, hello, welcome to the fic series that no one asked for! Do I have other things I need to finish? Yes! But has this been the only thing on my mind for the past four days? Also yes! For some reason I was incapable of writing anything else! Thanks, brain, for this out of the blue obsession!

Tags: Reverse AU

Word Count: 4587

Next Chapter

Hell Away From Hell

Wrong. You didn’t do anything wrong. It was a mistake. It had to be. Although, with every clink of your restraints, your reality was becoming ever clearer. The chains rattled, echoing down the hall like a set of twisted wind chimes. Ones that sung of your dismal fortune. The demon ahead of you yanked the lead attached to your cuffs, sending you stumbling forward. You bit your lip to keep from cursing. Steading your body, you took their less-than-subtle message and picked up the pace. Keeping your eyes glued towards your destination, your stomach sank to your knees. Why? Why had you been brought to the castle? You hadn’t done anything wrong. Well, not anything to warrant being escorted by the palace guards in chains. And as they led you silently inside, past the polished halls and gaudy antiques, your fate pounded just fervently in your mind as your heart was in your chest.

They were going to present you in front of the prince.

It was torture in and of itself just making it to the throne room. The worst part about it all was your rampant imagination. You could only imagine what type of horrific techniques the prince was aware of. Halting in front of the large double doors, the demon behind you moved to open the entrance. Holding it open, the guard tugging you along guided you in. You managed to take only a few steps inside the room before you were practically thrown inside, your body tumbling over the ground. Both the guards smirked at you, flashing their pointed fangs in their conceited gestures before shutting the door, leaving you alone inside.

“MC.” All the air inside your lungs had conveniently escaped. Lifting your chest off the ground, you tightened your lips as you met his gaze. Those glistening emerald eyes pierced right through you. Quickly, you lowered your eyes, attempting to show as much respect as you could to gain his favor.

“M-my lord.”

The melodic note that left his throat was a mix between a laugh and a coo. “Now, now, none of that groveling. I had you brought here to ask you a favor!” You could hear him stand to his feet, and you watched his shoes approach, clicking against the marbled tile. Then, you felt the smooth skin of his hand caress your right horn. The sudden sensitive feeling had your tail rapidly twitch and tuck under your leg. He pushed your horns back, raising your chin so you could look up at him. His dark hair drifted down across his forehead, curling around his horns that curved above his head like a broken halo, his face soft and inviting, and yet your gut wouldn’t let you believe it. “Please, from now on, just call me Simeon.”

Simeon hummed as he lifted his tea cup to his lips. He had been hospitable enough, but you still couldn’t shake this feeling of unease. Plus...what he had brought you in to ask you was...well, something short of insanity. You continued to rub your wrists where your constraints had been. And as much as the prince of hell apologized for his guard’s brutish behavior, you had a feeling it was purposeful. A message of sorts. Even now, as he had his little servant bring in sweets and tea as sickly sweet as it could get, it all tasted bitter to your tongue. “So let me get this straight,” you started. “You want me to be a member of this…”

The prince tilted his head, eyes practically shining. “Restoration program.”

You cleared your throat after the little scone this blonde demon had given you made your throat run dry. “R-right. And I’m assuming I don’t have a choice in the matter?”

His voice was soft, but the light reflecting off his horns and his fangs suggested another answer. “We all have choices, MC.”

Swallowing your nervousness, you lowered your head again. “But, with all due respect, sir...why? Why a restoration program?”

Another voice chuckled behind your figure. “Because, why not?” You strained your neck, getting a view at the newcomer behind you. White hair, a mischievous smile, and something unknown swimming at the back of those dark eyes. Not only that, but the figure was wearing clothes as pure as clouds, with a certain glow to him.

Simeon stood, hand out to greet this person as if they were an old friend-and for all you knew, they might’ve been. “Solomon, how good to see you.”

The new guest-now known to you as Solomon-beamed. “Likewise. You’re looking well.” He turned, giving you a once-over to take you in before nodding. “And you are MC, yes?”

Glaring, already feeling your skin about to burn, you leaned away from him. “And you’re an angel.” Your distrustful attitude let him frown for just a moment, but whether it was just his angelic nature or his personality, that smile was right back on his face.

“Yes, well, the plan requires an angel, so Simeon personally asked me for my hand in this matter.”

The both of them could tell that you were unbelievably confused, so Simeon gestured for the angel to take a seat at the table. “Luke.” The prince gestured to his small servant, the one who had not only brought you sweets but had taken the liberty to be staring you down the entire time. Finally, he turned his attention away from you. “Please do me a favor and get our new guest some refreshments.” The lesser demon squinted at you, nearly growled at the angel, and then took his leave with rapid little steps. Simeon laughed quietly to himself. “Don’t worry about him, he’s not used to others quite yet. But, MC.” With your name mentioned, you straightened your posture. “I’ve been planning this for quite some time. It’s been a desire of mine to bring the three realms closer together.” You couldn’t help but wonder why, what purpose it served, but you kept your mouth shut. “And while I’ve started to make decent progress fixing the old wounds between the Devildom and Celestial Realm, most of my kingdom and Solomon’s people refuse to make connections with the humans.”

Mortals...even just the mention managed to leave a heavy pit in your stomach. “If I may speak.” You waited for the prince’s go-ahead before speaking your mind. “What would be the point of connecting with the humans? They serve little purpose. They’re either so corrupt they destroy their own kind or they think they’re so pure they isolate themselves or get themselves killed in the name of their twisted justice.” Speaking so passionately against the idea, you didn’t realize your nails had grown into talons, leaving marks in the wooden table. You took a breath, reclaiming your typical form. “They can’t even do themselves any good, what makes you think they’d be good for our realms?”

Solomon, an expression of understanding mixed with pity, bounced a little in his seat. “That’s the question, isn’t it?” He turned his head to Simeon, who was nodding at you with a bit of approval.

“That’s what this plan is all about. Testing them, observing them. We’ll be watching these humans, and at the end of this project, we’ll be able to determine if they’re ready and worthy of being brought together with us.” The ruler crossed one leg over the other, his tone making it sound as it was as simple as eating pie.

Setting down the fork to your pastry, you felt a sense of dread wash over you. “And by we you mean?”

“Why, you and Solomon of course! A demon and an angel, both working together to restore the bond between the human world and ours! The Demonic and Angelic Restoration program! Or D.A.R. -dare- for short.” If it weren’t for the horns, you’d almost think this demon was an angel with the way he eagerly talked about restoring bonds and bettering the nature of the realms. But, then you felt nauseous.

“What...what exactly do you need me to do to help with this...program? And why me?”

It was actually the angel that spoke up. “I’m sure you’re aware of the Morningstars?”

It was such a silly question, you ended up scoffing. “Who doesn’t down here? Those brothers are filled with so much corruption and chaos they end up fueling about half the lesser demons down here...why?”

They both straight up ignored your question and instead asked you some of their own. Simeon leaned forward, looking at you intently. “It took me quite a bit of time to find you MC. Most people don’t know you exist, and those that do hardly know your name. You simply are known to most as Isolation. Is it true that you’ve never made a pact with a human? Rumor is that you even refuse to subsist off their sins. And you’ve never taken a soul? That’s typically unheard of nowadays.”

Shifting in your seat, you gave it to them straight. “It’s true. I do whatever I can to avoid contact. Haven’t even seen a human in the past millennia. Haven’t talked to one in about twice that time.”

Clapping his hands together, Simeon let out an amazed sigh. “Perfect. You will be able to have a fresh eye! A clean slate. An unbiased--well, mostly unbiased opinion. You won’t be tempted to corrupt them, you’ll give me honest answers.”

“Plus,” the angel agreed, “if you have the strength and willpower to live without human sustenance and influence for this long, you probably will have the patience to keep from killing them. If anyone could manage to live with the Morningstars, it would be you, from what I’ve heard.”

You were grateful you had put down your drink a while ago. Your breath caught in your throat. “Wait, excuse me, what did you say? Live...with the…”

“Mr. Morningstar!” A laugh, a handshake, even a pat on the shoulder, it nearly made you ill watching the upcoming king of the Devildom greet a human like this so casually. You couldn’t help but sneak glances at this mortal...one of the Morningstars, the eldest. The one who fueled the most demons without even knowing about it. People down in the Devildom called him by Pride. A human world CEO-whatever that meant. He was powerful, influential, not to mention ridiculously rich. And he’d do whatever it took to keep his status, even at the misfortune of plenty of other people. His suit and posture told you pretty much all you needed to know about him. A fancy well tailored pitch black suit, a striking red tie with a subtle but regal diamond design, diamond cufflinks, the works. It was as if dust and winkles knew to avoid him entirely. His hair was as dark as his suit, save for the ends which were greying. He didn’t seem that old, so you wondered if it was intentional or simply stress. You thought you heard someone say that once, that humans could get grey hair from stress. Did they all possess capabilities to change their hair based on their emotions? That human lady you saw outside the building with the blue hair must’ve been feeling something intense.

“Mr-” The human you had come to see was cut off.

“Please, you know to call me Simeon by now!”

The mortal cleared his throat. “Simeon…” The human glanced at you, and raised his chin as he took Simeon by the shoulders and brought him away from you. If you had been a human, it would’ve been a decent tactic to keep you out of earshot. Unfortunately, you could still hear everything they were saying. “I know you have good standing with the company, and I’m pleased to know you respect and trust me with such a task, but...this is far from business.” You could feel his eyes on you. “I have to respectfully decline your request. I don’t think I can allow them to live with us for a year. You know my family.”

“It would only be for a year, and I know you have plenty of room in that house of yours!” Simeon laughed a bit and then lowered his voice. You could feel the alluring pull of his influence flood the space. The human stiffened, his intuition picking up on a shift in the room. “Besides, Lucifer. You know I wouldn’t ask for a favor like this without some proper and well deserved remuneration. Listen...I happen to have something on the head of that business owner that’s been butting heads with your company. Wouldn’t it be nice to have them completely out of the picture? Not only is that increasing your profit, but if they happen to...I don’t know, completely go bankrupt, that little building of theirs on the corner of Main is some prime real estate.” Reaching into his pocket, Simeon pulled out a small...plastic...rectangle of sorts, with metal on one end. “I got everything right here.” Smiling, one hand firmly against Lucifer’s upper back, he looked him right in the eyes and whispered something you knew would have this human caught. “You can’t let them bother you like this. You need to show them and everyone else who you are, and that you’re not to be messed with.”

It took the mortal a moment of internal struggle. Decline the offer and figure things out himself without assistance? Or swallow the smallest bit of ego for self satisfaction? Either way, this mortal was past helping. Already drowning in pride. Eventually, he gripped the object, tucking it into a pocket beneath his suit jacket. Despite being handed assistance, he still found a way to be demanding. “Alright, but no more than a year, and if I feel like anything is going awry, I’m sending them away. Is it really too unreasonable to just set them up on their own? Surely for you it’s no problem.”

Backing up slightly after his incentive worked, Simeon shook his head. “I would feel endlessly guilty leaving alone, desolate, isolated, after what happened. Poor thing...they haven’t even said a word to me in days.” That last part wasn’t a lie. You’d nearly refused to say anything to him since being dragged to the human world. Prince or no prince. “My poor cousin, suddenly losing all their family like that. It’s tragic, isn’t it? Losing people you love?”

Lucifer, with his arms folded, let his hand tightly grip the fabric of one of his sleeves. His eyes lowered the slightest touch, his jaw tightening. “It...is...I know it all too well.” You caught a hint of some emotion from the mortal.

“Then you know that what would be best for them right now is company. Trust me, I wouldn’t have brought them to you if I didn’t think it would help. Besides, this is a win for all parties involved, right?” Simeon gestured to the gift Lucifer had tucked away, and the last string of resistance had been snipped.

Sighing, the human looked at the luxurious watch on his wrist. “I’ll take them home. Let my brothers know what’s happening. Is it too much to assume they’ll be better behaved with a guest in the house?”

Laughing once more, the prince shrugged. If only Lucifer knew who he was in the presence of. “You’ll all just have to find out!” Patting the other man on the shoulder, Simeon then came over to you with his arms outstretched. “It’s all settled, MC!” He pulled you into a hug, taking the time to speak quietly to you. “Remember to keep your identity a secret. I’ll be checking up on you and Solomon once a month for a report. Keep them safe. Play nice.” He pulled apart, coming around behind you and settling his hands on your shoulders. “And remember, what Mr. Morningstar is doing is unbelievably nice, so make sure to thank him and keep yourself out of trouble.”

You broke your vow of silence out of irritation. “I’m not a child you’re sending away to school. I know how to keep my own head on my shoulders.” You attempted to brush his hands off but the grip was tightened. Swallowing your frustration, you kept yourself from grimacing, looking at the fabled Lucifer Morningstar. “Thank you...for letting me live with you.”

For a human, he had a tenacity for picking up on things. He noticed your lie, giving you a stare down of his own before grabbing his phone. You only recently figured out what those devices were. Simeon had made sure he gifted you one of your own, since apparently it was the main source of communication in this realm. Too strange, but you picked it up fairly quickly. Lucifer just raised his head and pressed his cell against his ear. “Just make sure you refrain from being as irksome as my brothers.” The line he was dialing picked up. “Yes, have a driver prepare to come pick me up. And someone please contact my brothers for me so they know I’m bringing home a...guest.”

It was going to be a long year…

The...metal contraption rumbled, making your head feel light. Without magic to get around, they had to use...these things. The movement slowed till it came to a stop. Looking out the pane of glass, you peered forward to see what the issue was. A big red circular light shone a bright crimson in front of the lane. Was it a threat? If so, why was the world seemingly filled with them? Then the eye turned green and the long carriage rumbled back to life. It was completely different than the last time you had been here.

“Before you even step foot in my home, we need to set some ground rules.” Even just the sound of his voice almost physically rubbed you the wrong way. You bit the inside of your cheek. Play nice, the prince had said. How long could you keep your patience around these mortals? You looked up at him, feeling him stare you down to the corrupt depths of your soul. “Since you’re going to be living with us for so long, you’re going to have to follow the same rules I give my brothers? Understand?”

Was this all worth it? Would having your soul be torn to shreds be that bad? “Yes.”

He nodded, then decided his attention would be better focused towards whatever he had on that electronic device of his. He gave you orders without even looking at you. No wonder all the lesser demons who fawned after him were so pretentious. “No parties. No pets. You can stay up however long you want, but you must be back at the house no later than midnight. You can have your own room but you must keep it clean, don’t expect me to hire a maid for you. You’re responsible for looking after yourself. I might be providing a roof over your head, but anything you need is up to you. You break anything, you’re responsible for replacing it. Just use the basic level of common sense and we should have no trouble. Hopefully the year will be over before we—oh excuse me.” Without another word he picked another call, his third one since you’d been blackmailed into this ride. You just gave a gentle sigh and stared out the window. Just a few days ago you’d still existed in your botherless existence. A personal utopia of your own making. Now you were in this...hell away from hell, the scent of smog and exhaust still burning the inside of your nose.

The rest of the ride was spent with you trying to think of ways to escape this fate, but finding none in sight. You didn’t need to fully see the building to get this overwhelming wave of impurity. The tempting allure of sin. Practically a demon buffet. These morons were just screaming to be killed or worse, eaten. Even just approaching the gate to the driveway, you could see remnants of spirits, demons without full forms clawing at the fence. Wisps of black sinking into their sidewalk. But not even those, you could smell the presence of other lesser demons...but more dangerous ones. Outside the gate were small crowds, not too many, but enough to safely conceal their presence. Photographers, journalists, fans, wherever they were, they were eager to get in. And amongst the rabble stood demons pretending to be mortals in an attempt to sink their fangs into one of the Morningstars. You slunk down in your seat, trying to conceal your presence, but you were sure they’d be able to feel you. The car slipped past all of them, approaching the first set of gates. Whoever was patrolling the vehicle pressed their fingers against a small pad attached to a pillar by the gate. It waited for a moment, then made an affirming noise before the gate swung open. The cries of mortal and hidden demons alike pleading for the smallest sliver of attention from this human made you feel sick.

Despite having nearly ignored you the whole time, Lucifer scoffed. “You’ll get used to it.” The curved metal fence shut behind you, and the sound of the crowd slowly faded as you pulled up in front of the massive house. If anything, it reminded you a little of home. It was an old fashioned looking house, but fanciful nonetheless. With dark stone, piercing towers, arched windows, and an overall gothic aesthetic. You managed to take a moment to breathe. At least there was one silver lining. Lucifer stepped out of the idle vehicle first, paying you no mind as he approached the steps to the door. Slightly panicking, you tried simply pushing the door before noticing the small handle. Pulling it unlocked it, and you rapidly exited, feeling the motion sickness fade with your feet on the ground. You followed the mortal to the door, and was slightly pleased when he put his phone away to open the door, leaving it open for you. Lucifer shut the door, a small high pitched noise ringing through your ears. You turned and watched him mess with a little panel near the door. “Our security is top of the market. I make sure the code is changed every day, so if you’re not inside by midnight, I hope you enjoy camping.”

You were about to speak up about that, but both of you were bombarded with noise. A noise you would later learn to get used to. “Oi! Lucifer!” A bundle of energy came racing down the stairs. Wild hair, dark skin, rings on nearly every finger, you recognized this individual without having to ask his name. You could feel the influence. Greed. Demons almost loved this brother more than Pride, because from what you’d heard, he’d make deals impulsively with demons without knowing their true intentions. As long as money or something expensive was in front of him, he’d jump for anything. It had gotten him in more than enough trouble, and it made him too much of a prime target. At least Lucifer knew how to look over his shoulder. The second brother confronted the eldest. He didn’t even glance at you. “Hey, I need some cash! For some reason my card keeps declining...you can spot me right?”

Lucifer didn’t even hesitate. “No.”

“Eh? Why not?! I did that thing the other day for you, remember?”

“Hm?” Lucifer tilted his head, taking the time to recall-or pretending to. “Which thing would that be? Would it have been before or after you stole and immediately maxed out my card?” Lowering his eyes, the older one gave off a menacing smile.

Mammon took a step back, muttering. “O-oh you found about that, huh?”

The smile turned into a full on yell. “Of course I found out! I got a call from the bank as soon as they saw the purchase! What exactly do you need a golden tiger statue for, Mammon? Seriously, you’re absolutely ridiculous! I returned it by the way, and in the meantime I cancelled all your cards.” Mammon went to open his mouth in anger but didn’t have the chance to say anything. “You can try to find some extra work to pay off all the bills you’ve left me with. And if I think you’re ready, I’ll reopen your accounts in two months.” The effort of shouting sent Pride’s eye twitching. He lifted a hand to press against his forehead, the blood draining from his face. You shifted ever so slightly in your spot and he groaned. “Right, you’re here. Mammon, this is MC.”

Eyebrows raised, he jumped a little when he finally spotted you were in the room. “Wait, wait, wait, that whole thing with someone staying with us for a year wasn’t a joke?”

“No.” Although the slight warble to his voice seemed that that fact was just now settling in. “It wasn’t. And since you’ve so kindly volunteered yourself, you can take their bags and show them to their room.” He simply turned. No welcome, no tour, no warmth in those cold eyes of his.

“Hey! Come back here!” Yet the younger sibling showed no signs of chasing after him. “Lucifer!” His older brother just quickly headed up the stairs and disappeared into the house. Was it really going to require a full year of observation? Just from what you were seeing right now, you wanted nothing to do with humans. Nothing. Mammon ran a hand through his hair, one of his strands getting stuck in one of his rings, but he tugged it out without noticing, like it was a daily occurrence. “I can’t believe this.” You could watch as the anger started to swell within him. “Screw this, I’m out of here!” You were ready for him to leave, to give into his emotions. He had wrapped his hand around the door handle before he stopped. Pausing, he just tutted to himself before shoving his hands in his jacket-pockets, looking in your direction but not fully at you. “You want the guest room we have upstairs or down?” Loud, brash, rude in some ways, but there was a weird sort of innocence about him. You simply shrugged. He nodded, grasping one of your bags suddenly, gesturing you to follow. “I’ll give you the downstairs one. Most of our rooms are on the second floor, so it’s a bit quieter down here, plus it stays cooler.” He led you past the entrance hall and back into the rest of the house. “Plus, it’s easier to sneak out from here, but you didn’t hear that from me. I’m guessing Lucifer gave you the whole rule spiel?”

You restrained the urge to roll your eyes. “Yeah.”

He hissed in air through his teeth. “Sucks, man, are you sure you want to stay here?”

The pain around your wrists was still too prominent. Etched into your skin was a mark, a line of runes and symbols around your wrists. Who knew demons could give temporary pacts to other demons? Simeon ensured you a small fraction of his power, just in case you ran into trouble. But in exchange he had a hold on you, able to summon you to him whenever he needed you. It was your chain keeping you imprisoned here. There was no running. There was no hiding. “I didn’t have a choice.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke

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hpalways · 3 years

Text

Yaksha’s Destiny || Xiao

DARKNESS was the biggest fear held by fellow Yakshas. This power bestowed upon you and many alike gave an opening to the pitting shadows that raged within your chambers. Some days, it wasn't as bad -- other days... it felt like you were getting ripped apart into shreds, taking in all your willpower to battle against it. It was tempting, to give in and call it quits. Life for a Yaksha wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. There were always too many demons and not enough heroes. Especially for a weaker one like you, anger and frustration would stem from these battles, only to eat at you later on.

Today was one of those days. The sky was a stormy sea of clouds, with the Gods crying from the heaven above. Droplets prickled down your bare skin, cold to the touch. While in the mountainside, you had stumbled upon demonic energy, so there was no choice but to finish them off.

Dodging the monster that lunged at you, you took out your polearm. The hydro vision on your hip gleamed brightly in the setting. Taking a turn, you could feel power surge to your arms. As you were about to jab your weapon into the demon's abdomen, they had ducked in time. Shit. You had underestimated this one.

Its body rammed into you, knocking you off your feet. Air left your system, causing you to groan in pain. Just as it was about to sink its teeth into your arm, you rolled over on one side and jumped back to your feet. Fingers clenching tightly around the metal stick, you pushed your hind legs and tried to stab at it another time. Your speed and reaction time was too slow. Too damn slow. Too damn weak. Gritting your teeth, you began to use up more of Yaksha's power, drinking the exhilarating taste of freedom. It was so addicting... often times, you'd wished it'd never stop.

A burst of water shrouded from the weapon, circling the demon until it was surrounded. With one, clean fell swoop, you sliced the demon and the energy faded away. The deed was done.

Falling to your knees, your entire body was shaking. Face contorted and in pain, nails dug into the earth to feel wet mud. Your body would not move -- it could not. Stilling there as if you had just been paralyzed, hungering thoughts plagued your mind... Thoughts you wished weren't yours. Letting out a disgusting whimper, similar to that of a wounded animal, you bit down on your lip, hard. Blood dribbled down your chin, painting the grass in crimson. Tugging at your mask, you stared at it for a moment. A sigh let out.

That was a close one. Crashing to the ground, your chest heaved up and down in exhaustion.

A figure suddenly entered your peripheral vision. Climbing up to the ridge of the mountain was Xiao, his dark teal locks blowing along with the harsh winds. Donned in his usual robes, he was as attractive as ever. The first time you stumbled upon him -- one of the famous five -- you nearly forgot to breathe. You had referred to him as Alatus then, starstrucked by such a powerful being.

You would never not awed by him. The way he held himself would always come to remind you of the big gap in strength between the two of you. Maybe you did establish a relationship with this all-mighty Yaksha, but this inferiority complex was tugging your strings more than you'd like to admit.

At the same time, he provided you the distraction needed. He kept you grounded, which prevented you from going mad. He was the only one who made you feel human, if that was even possible.

Golden amber hues landed on you, withholding an unreadable expression. He walked up to your beaten up form and sat down, unbothered by the rain. Struggling to get yourself into a sitting position, you looked out at the view in front.

"You used up too much of your power again," he murmured.

"Do you think I don't know that? I had no choice," you sighed.

His sharp eyes narrowed further. "You were being careless."

"It happened. There's nothing I can do to change it." His anger barely dwindled and the scowl only deepened. "Come on, Xiao. I don't want to talk about my mistakes when I'm with you. Busy as we are, I barely get to see you as of late. Can't we just enjoy our brief time together?"

That got him. His eyes softened at your words and he reluctantly nodded in agreement. Seizing the victory, you laid your head on his shoulder, feeling warmth even upon this cold weather. The rain was starting to let down too -- perhaps Xiao was the lucky charm.

"What have you been up to?" you inquired.

"Demons. Monsters. The usual," he responded. His cheeks tinged with a soft pink all of a sudden. "I... I also got you something."

Your ears perked up at the sound of this. Lifting your head, you watched him in curiosity. He took something out from his robe pockets and slowly opened his palm. Laying there was a blue, glowing object. Shaped as a butterfly, it was gorgeous. You had never seen this kind of butterfly around these parts. He must have traveled far to have found it.

"It's a crystalfly," he mumbled, averting his eyes in embarrassment. Your heart raced at his actions. He was too cute. Before meeting him, you could have never imagined the Vigilant Yaksha to possess such qualities. "I saw it and... thought it would look good in your hair."

"Oh, I love it. Thank you," you whispered breathlessly, touched beyond words. This was exactly what you meant with how Xiao could easily brush your problems away with a smile.

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned in and kissed his lips. They were soft as petal leaves. He returned the gesture immediately, arms wrapped around you in a warm embrace. Digging your fingers into his hair, you kissed with a ferocity that was never present in your fights. This was to release the pain you dealt with today. As long Xiao was here, you were going to be okay. As long as he was by your side, you were going to be okay. This era of demons and gods will end someday, leaving you a happy future with him.

You tasted him. His lips. His mouth. His entire self. He tasted of mint. He tasted of life. He tasted of iron. The kind of metal tang found in blood. Sighs were exchanged upon each kiss, breathless but the two of you would not let the other go. Your lips trailed down to his jaw, peppering his baby-soft skin with a few nibbles here and there. He let out a gasp.

Finally you pulled away, giggling at his flustered state for your bold moves.

The end was nearing. He picked up the crystal fly and reached up to your [h/c] hair. While he gently pinned it down, you could only focus on his swollen lips. He was beautiful... and you loved him so.

"[Y/N]," he said, interrupting the honey silence of the mountains. "If you are ever in trouble, just call my name and I will come to you. In any circumstance, avoid overusing your power."

This bliss that left you giddy disappeared as quick as it came. All that remained was the harsh, cruel reality. Brows knitted together in offense and you quickly shook your head. "Why would I do that? I'm a Yaksha. What kind of Yaksha seeks help from another? This wounds my pride, Xiao. Is your faith in my skill and strength that low?"

"No. That's not it," he argued, features twisted in desperation. "Why won't you let me protect you?"

"Unbelievable," you merely scoffed, staggering up to stand. "I have to go. I'm sure you do too."

Ignoring his blubbering protests, you jumped down upon ledges until you reached ground level safely. He didn't understand what you had to go through. He never had to face judgement from those who didn't believe in you. Strong enough to battle the demons both externally and internally, Xiao was different from you. But even so... even if his words meant that he only cared for you, it hurt like you had been just stabbed.

You were willing to prove to him that you could stand on your own feet. He was going to eat his own words. So would the other Yakshas who looked down on you your entire life. If you trained hard enough, surely improvement could be gained. Right? It wasn't as if destiny could determine what you could accomplish already.

Approaching the forest that was said to contain many strong demons and monsters, you surged ahead, with eyes filled of challenge.

There, sitting in a nook was a cave, Sensing a suffocating presence, you knew you had hit a jackpot. Sneaking across the grassy lands, you stayed silent. The tall, towering trees were beginning to look a lot more ominous. Tiptoeing to the edge of the cave, you peered in to find the energy unbearably strong. One staggering breath later and you went forward. A roar let out, signaling that it knew of its intruder. Shoulders tensed up and sweat beaded your forehead, but you couldn't stop now. No matter what, you were going to go through with it.

It was a beast. Fangs gleamed in the darkness, nearly the size of your weapon. Having woken from its slumber, its terrifying eyes landed on you. Claws swiped the air, which you barely avoided in time. Fear had seized you with a hand, choking you until you could barely move. This was a terrible, foolish move. There was no way you could beat such a demon.

Calling in more power, it filled you up at the core. To waste no time, you delved right into battle, slashing at the monster. It had little to none effect on it. With a lazy swipe of its arm, it slammed you right into the cave's walls, causing you to spit out blood. Pushing yourself up, you tried again, putting in more power to your weapon. Adding hydro to the mix, the weapon hit its arms. It caused the monster to roar in pain, but that only made it more angry. Barreling straight to you, similar but much more frightening than the last demon, it pounced on you, pinning you down to the ground.

Drool left its mouth, splattering all over on your face. Its claws dug into your side and you let out a piercing scream. You were so fucking sick of this shit. Why was it destined that you had to stay weak? It was so unfair you wished to cry your heart out.

The last of the powers was used. Pushing the demon's hold on you, you stumbled up and felt thrill run through. It was delicious, but your mind was also beginning to grow hazy. "X-Xiao..." you uttered out.

The Conqueror of Demons arrived as soon as you called, anxious to apologize for his insensitivity. What he didn't expect to see was a battlefield. A large and strong demon was torn apart to pieces, the iron smell of it so strong, it was gagworthy. Sitting on the pile of bones was you, dark, gruesome scratches decorating your arms and legs. A deep gash was bleeding from your torso and your [e/c] eyes were dimmed; at the same time, they held a crazed look in them.

His face paled and his body grew cold at the sight. You did the thing he last wanted to happen. Already too far in and consumed by the darkness surrounding your whole life, you were looking at him not with love, but with bloodlust. "I'll kill you, Xiao!" you screamed at the top of your lungs.

Climbing down, you tried to run to him. But your footsteps halted and you crashed to the ground. Spazzing out as if you had just been electrocuted by lightning, the Vigilant Yaksha slowly approached you, tears streaming down the side of his face. He kneeled down, cradling your head in his lap. "Don't leave me..." He hit the ground in fury. "Dammit! Why didn't you listen to me!?"

Consciousness returned but you were on the brink of death. The wound was deep, but so were the demons. It was raining again, so you forced a small smile out. "I'm weak. It's my fate," you whispered. "At least I won't have to suffer through this darkness any longer. It's over. I quit. You won, my demons. I am yours to keep."

"Shut your mouth," he snarled. The rain had turned into a storm, adding fury into the mix. "Please. You can make it through this. Don't leave me yet. It was going to get better. An era with no more demons to haunt us. You said so yourself."

"That was just a stupid dream."

"Don't fucking say that," he growled, flinching as if he'd just been slapped. You were supposed to be the optimist here. It meant that this death was real... and that you would accept it with open arms. "It's going to happen. So hold on. Let me find someone to save you."

Your head shook and you winced. "We all learned this since young. We'll die if we let our power consume us. It's impossible and you know it."

"Stop," he choked out, lowering his head until his hair covered his broken expression. "Then don't talk. Save your breath."

You ignored his words. "Thank you... for the crystalfly. Does it look pretty on me?" you murmured.

He heaved out a sob and slowly nodded. "I've never seen anyone more beautiful."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"And I'm sorry."

"I am too."

"Protect... the people... like you always do, my sweet, Vigilant Yaksha." Your voice grew more raspy by the second, for the pain was getting unbearable.

You fluttered your eyes shut and the pain faded. On the other hand, Xiao's pain grew, the scars and trauma there to haunt him, for a life and infinity.

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sp00kworm · 3 years

Text

Under the Old Oak (The Lord of Darkness x Reader)

Pairing: The Lord of Darkness x Reader

Warnings: Adult Content

---

The forest was vast in the Kingdom. The Princess had her champion, even if he was not truly hers, and the realm was restored to peace and warmth. The winter, however, still arrived, though it was not as brutal as it once was. The snow was light, and the air was bitter, but no gales battered the lands. It was almost a peaceful winter. You’d spent the winter mornings breathing the cold air, wandering the woodlands in search of foxes and squirrels as you scribbled ditties into the journal. Music was perhaps the only joy you had anymore, and even Princess Lili was amused by the folk tales. The winter, however, was gone, and so spring had overtaken the trees, bursting forth bluebells heavy with flowers and delicate snowdrops which swayed in the breeze. The trees were bursting with new buds of growth, light, new green leaves bursting from curled up shells, but there was not yet enough of them to block the sun and create a canopy. You let out a breath of warm air into the cool morning and watched it drift away into the trees before you avoided a fairy circle of toadstools and tutted.

“You are mischievous and rude.” You uttered to the giggling sprites which had laid the trap on the route they knew you took every morning, “And to think I bring you cakes!” You teased as you threw your lunch muffin in the air.

The sprites gasped and darted for the muffin, their sparkly magic light glowing as they each took a sniff and a nibble at the candied fruit decorating the top, “It was a joke!” They giggled as they dragged away the muffin into their mossy homes, “Thank you!” They jeered together as crumbs fell into your hair. You brushed the mess out of your hair before continuing down the mossy path, bouncing around the poisonous toadstools and circles of stones before you reached the stream. It was shallow with the lack of rainfall yet, and you hopped along the deep-set stones, wetting your boots as you went across to reach the soggy bank on the other side. The mud slapped against your boots and you laughed as you headed towards the old oak tree. It sat away from the bank; its roots protected from the constant onslaught of water which would cause it to rot in the silty dirt. With a sigh, you tugged your scarf tighter and sat back against the mossy bed at the base, breathing in the fresh air as the stream trickled on in the background.

After a few more moments of peace, you reached for your satchel and pulled free your journal from the leather bag with your pencil. Your hand harp came out next and you undid the cloth around it to play a little tune, filling the air with a simple set of scaling notes to check the tuning of the instrument. With a twist of one string, it was into the correct range and you opened your notes to look at the new song you have been working on. It was an old ditty, something that your grandmother had sung you as a child before she passed, and you were determined to rewrite the lyrics for the new legend. The old one was a sad tale, of the darkness being born and spreading sadness throughout the land, but you figured the new tale should be something joyful, with an ending that reflected the new era of light that had been bestowed on the world.

“What have I written?” You asked yourself as you opened the page the song was scrawled on, barely able to read your own writing half of the time. With a squint, you started to pluck at the strings, softly, letting the notes gently hang in the air as you opened your mouth to hum the words quietly.

“Under the old oak tree, boughs cast shadows of dark and silt.” You swayed softly, “In the shadow sits eyes of glittering green, watching a maiden of white and snow.” The harp sung with you as you gently continued into the old verse and rolled the words around in your mouth, thinking about how to change them.

“Darkness, temptress, wanted one true love. The Maiden’s honour was not his to tempt, and hero slayed him with the sword.” A couple of sprites listened quietly in the branches over your head before glittering and dashing down into the water to pluck at the new water clovers growing in the silt. With a hum and a flourish, you continued, “The fairest maid denied his request, leaving him in shadows and dust, only for her handsome champion, to part ways when the sun rose up.”

A rabbit snuffled at your boot as you continued, “Daylight blinds her heart, when demons sit afar.” With a soft whistle you continued on, tapping your foot to the beat as you blended into a soft, harp solo and finished with a gentle smile. The rabbit sat quietly, chewing on bluebells before it twitched, its eyes wide with fright as its ears flicked. It twitched again before bolting for the trees and its warren. You jumped with fright as a fox tore past you, hot on the creature’s tail, its teeth snatching at the cotton tail of the rabbit. With a gasp you looked away as the fox caught it by the back legs and tried to ignore the scuffle as it continued into the grass and plants away from you. There was a rush of fur and you looked on sadly as the fox carted its kill past you, dripping with blood. There were squeals in the brush and you tried to take solace in the fact that the mother was feeding her new pups.

Silence stretched out as you scribbled in the notebook, singing soft lines as the air grew warmer and warmer around you, stretching past midday. A few sprites came along to sit on your harp as you continued to sing about the end of the Darkness.

“Darkness sleeps in hearts of man, cruelty and hate combined he thrives.” You whispered, “Yet light blinds and he sleeps he sleeps.”

“A beautiful ditty.” A voice rumbled from behind you, “In details, however, it is wrong.” A beautiful timbre caressed your ears, deep and filled with wisdom of a thousand ages.

You clutched your handheld harp close and looked around the clearing, “Who are you? Where are you hiding?”

“Nowhere. I do not hide. You are sat in the shadows.” The voice purred, “Here I am.”

You flinched as you peered at the long shadows of midday, “The shadows? No creature is shadow.”

“I am no creature.” It purred, “I am the shadows. I am the darkness you are sat in.” It promised, “Can you not see me?”

You looked at the floor and then peered hard at the shadows of the roots before two burning green eyes appeared in the darkness followed by a great smile, pointed fangs snapping before the smile melted away again.

“I am weak here, but I listened to your song. I heard you speak of me, sweetest thing.” The green eyes burned as they watched you.

“Why are you listening?” You asked, fear clutching at your heart, “I’m singing a song of what happened.”

“And your song is beautiful. You speak of the Darkness. I am he.” The Darkness purred as though his mouth was pressed to your ear.

“The Darkness is dead and gone. He was destroyed.” You whispered to the green eyes, “Everyone knows he is dead.”

“Dead?” The creature laughed, “Darkness cannot die, for the folly of man is where I reside. Every human is cruel and foul, and so I will never see an end.” He promised with another hiss, the teeth snapping in the shadows and disappearing once again as he moved along the shadowed roots, peering out from another hole.

“Are you here to goad me…Am I to face the pits of your foul home?” Resolve held your words together as you peered into his burning eyes.

A great, deep chuckle resounded in your ears, and you felt the exhale against the hairs on the back of your neck. He laughed again at your shivering.

“Do you think me a liar? I have told you. I heard your song and came here to listen closer.” A black talon peaked from the shadow before curling back into the darkness.

“Isn’t lying your speciality, oh Lord of Sin.” You spat as you took a step back towards the sunlight.

“Lying? It is a sin, but I do not lie. Witches have pacts with me, I do not lie to them about power. I did not lie to the oh so fair maiden in your tale. She was to be mine. If she did that, she would have been a Queen.” He hissed from the shadows, “Do not twist my words, mortal. I too was lied to in that story.”

“Did you not deserve it? You corrupt the innocent and wanted permanent darkness and death. Those are hardly good things.” You took another step towards the light and the Darkness hissed at you with scorn.

“Think of another tale to sing. Your telling of mine is foul.” The eyes receded back into the shadowed roots before glowing, then disappearing, as the creature closed his eyes. There was silence. You rushed into the sunlight and peered around the clearing as you tried to catch a glimpse of the green eyes burning in the shadows. You rushed back for your harp and bag before making sure to run into the trees and back towards the town.

It got warmer as the week progressed, the leaves on the trees were beginning to unfurl properly and soak up the warming rays of the new sun. After a week you dared to enter the woods again, taking the same path you always did, jumping toadstools until you reached the base of the sprites’ tree.

“I brought you a biscuit.” You offered up into the branches, “They’re lavender and honey, you said you all liked that last time.”

The sprites chittered before taking the biscuit from your fingers and letting crumbs fall into your hair. You brushed at the crumbs and smiled.

“Have you felt anything weird lately?” You asked, “Anything untoward?”

The sprites paused in their eating to look at you confusedly, their little pointed faces confused, “We sense all manner of things. Black and white, light and dark. All are normal in our woods.” One sang before another grinned and tugged at your ear, “White as the unicorn, black as pitch. All is the same to the Fae.” She giggled and the rest sang a soft little rhyme about the fox and the hare.

“You’re all so useless sometimes.” You sighed.

The sprites paused in their dances, “We told you the answer. No lies we speak.” They sang again as they took the food and disappeared back into the moss and birdhouses.

You huffed at the branches, “Useless Fae and their riddles.” You kicked a pebble into the small stream as you slowly moved across the steppingstones.

The water had made new pond weed and sludge grow over the steps and you yelped as your boot slipped and landed in the stream, filling with icy cold water.

“Oh, by the Gods!” You cursed as you hopped along the rest of the stones. When you reached the bank, you hopped a little further, into the dryer dirt before standing on a great pile of moss and upturning your boot. Water splatted onto the dirt and you huffed again as you hopped to the oak and tucked your boot against the trunk along with your other, hoping the warmer air would dry the inside of it.

As usual, you opened your bag and plucked your hand harp from inside the fold, unwrapping the cloth from it carefully before listening to its gentle noise. The soft plucking of the strings rose up into the canopy and you smiled at the noise you had always loved. Your grandmother was the finest harpist you had ever met, and you wished you had her level of skill as you plucked at the notes for the song she had first sung to you as a babe.

“Darkness see the Light, on the break of day. Season turn cold to warm, with her never ending sway. Once the dawn doth break, the dreams are chased away. Darkness see the Light, on the break of day…” You hummed softly, plucking in a gentle cadence as the sunlight worked through the new green leaves, dappling across your face. Soaking in the glow, you let the song die on your lips as the birds sang high above, hidden in the mass of leaves from predators and prying eyes.

“Such a wonderous song.” A dark voice rang out from behind you. Once more, you startled and peered into the roots beneath the giant tree, “Sweet thing, have you come to sing for me again?” The Darkness purred from the depths, his green, burning eyes morphing into the burning orange flames of fire, “Or do you sing of me again to tarnish my name?” He teased as he raised a single claw before curling it back into the shadows, begging for you to come closer.

Fear curled along your spine, “I don’t sing for anyone. I sing for myself.” You promised as you turned on the moss to see the eyes burning into your skin, looking as though into your soul, “I would not sing of you if it were not the song’s lyrics. I have to play this for the town festival.” The confession ran like water and you covered your mouth with a gasp.

“Lies cannot be spoken to me.” The Darkness chortled, “Your songs are tales. Beautifully woven to enchant even the deafest of ears.” He complimented, “I would like to hear another, if you would be so kind?”

“Why should I play for you?” You asked, spitefully, “You almost ruined the world.”

The Darkness laughed again, “Ruined? I merely changed the order. There is balance in the light and dark, and one day that balance will be mine to destroy. The shadows will have their time once again. It is the order of things.” He observed mildly as you held your hand harp closely, trying to avoid his intense gaze.

“Would you destroy everything to have it?” You asked, curiosity burning away at the anxiety in your gut.

The Darkness hummed, “Perhaps. But perhaps it would be best to turn the humans to my own side.” He grinned, as though a new nefarious plan was forming in his mind, white teeth glittering in the roots of the tree before he spoke again, “Play for me little harpist. One more song, I beg of you. The sound is like nothing I have below.”

“And what is it you have below, Darkness.” You asked as you opened your book.

His smile faded, “Screams and bellows. The sound of the foulest torture. There is some music in my power, but it is not that of…” His mouth moved before he spat the word, “Innocence…or purity. There is little joy in it.”

“You do not lie…do you?” You whispered as the eyes burned.

“Why would I lie about such things?” He spat, “Sing for me, please. Play a song.” There was tiredness in his voice as his mouth disappeared into the blackness of the shadows and dirt.

“I can sing for you.” You nodded gently and sat before the shadowed roots, ignoring the burning orange gaze as you remembered the next line of the song.

“Behold the singing song bird, watch the bubbling stream. Before the dawn breaks, naught can be seen. Dreams of sorrows past, chased by the burning light. No more will they bother you, despite the aching blight. Darkness see the Light, on the break of day.”

The Darkness’ eyes lowered with the song, his gaze low and tired as his claws slid back into the roots, disappearing into the dark chasm of his own shadows.

Your voice came to an end, and you opened your eyes not to see the Lord of Darkness nor his gaze. There was silence as the leaves rustled over your head, flapping against one another as you sat, staring into the roots, wondering where the creature had disappeared to during your tale.

A groggy noise of discontent sounded, “Why did you stop singing, song bird?” He asked, a single eye peering out from the shadows.

With a smile you chuckled, “I thought you had fallen asleep.”

The Darkness smiled, fangs exposed as he laughed, “I was close. Your music is gentle, like a Mother’s song to a babe.” He complimented, “You surely sing for the court?” He asked.

A blush graced your cheeks, “No, I sing for myself.” You reaffirmed, “One day I will maybe share my songs with the world…but not for now.”

The Darkness watched you for a moment, “I could make it happen.” He tempted softly, “There would be no one that didn’t know your name.”

“I won’t fall for your temptation.” You huffed, “I would rather sing and make the children happy than be forced to entertain the King and his finicky court.”

“Then perhaps a world without a King is what you truly desire?” He asked with another purr.

“Don’t twist my words against me. I want nothing from you.” You told him as you laid your harp back in your bag.

The Darkness opened his other eye, “Nothing? After such a graceful performance…” He tutted to himself before he twisted a finger into the dirt and you watched your boots wiggle, as though there were invisible feet within them, “Consider this a small token.”

You watched as your boots marched their way over, under the influence of some sort of magic, before jumping and landing in your lap, cosy, lined with rich fur and utterly bone dry. They shined bright with wax polish and smelled as though they were new.

“I…” You stuttered, “I can’t accept these. They’re made for royalty.” You brushed the fur inside.

“Take them. It is payment for your music and for your craft. Wear them well, little bird.” He purred before you watched his eyes grow tired again, the orange turning green and disappearing into the roots randomly before he hummed and disappeared entirely, “I will see you again.”

“Yes…See you next time.” You whispered as the roots twisted and knotted back into place, the Oak hiding where the creature had once been beneath it, “Maybe I’ll have something new for you.” You pulled on the heavy boots and smiled at the warmth and the fit before rushing back over the stream.

You jumped from the rocks and smiled as you looked back into the trees. The sprites bolted from their homes.

“Darkness clings and darkness takes hold.” They whispered in your ears, hidden along your coat collar, “Temptation is the beginning of sin.” They rushed before ripping through your hair, “Careful little one. Darkness tempts in other ways.”

“What do you mean?” You asked but they disappeared up into their homes, leaving glittering dust behind them. You looked up and listened to the silence of the birds before rushing to make your way home before the darkness decided to set in. The sprites cowered in their moss homes as the night rolled in that night, and the wolves howled beneath their trees.

“Does the bird’s song ever wake you?” The Darkness asked from his shadowed hole, his eyes watching your fingers move over the harp, “You only come to sing as the Sun raises to its highest point.” He observed, “Does someone else occupy your time?” He asked with a hiss.

“No.” You plucked a string particularly forcefully, “I’m busy in the mornings.” You confessed, “I have to cook and clean for myself now.” You felt tears well in your eyes.

“What troubles you?” The Darkness asked, the tips of his claws peaking from the roots.

“My Mother passed.” You confessed, “She was all I had left.” You whispered and the Darkness reached out before recoiling from the sunlight with a howl, forgetting himself as his eyes flared with anger.

“Does her passing not anger you. Such sorrow is ill-fitting. I have heard your song in the night.” There was a flicker of something in the shadows, “Can I not offer you some solace, bird?”

“I want nothing of your tricks, Darkness.” You spat, “I want to remember her in her chair, not as a walking corpse.”

The Darkness recoiled at your spite, “I offer no such thing…Only my company. If you would have it?”

You did not keep your shock to yourself, “Truly? You won’t trick me and drag me away into your hellhole?”

He laughed, “No, sweet thing. Where would the fun in that be?” The creature teased before tugging at your bag, “Sing your sorrows. Soon, your heart will not feel the pain anymore.”

You took hold of your bag and took out your hand harp, tightening one string with a watery smile before you sung late into the afternoon, beginning the process of healing your own heart.

“Will you stay a little longer?” The Darkness asked as the sun reached to dip below the horizon. You’d been visiting for so long that you couldn’t remember the time before you did. Your days creating were much more fun with someone to critique your lyrics.

“It will be night-time soon.” You muttered over the rain which pattered against the Oak’s leaves. You were protected underneath it’s canopy, huddled in your fur, your boots tucked against you as you looked out at the rain. The stream bubbled with fresh new water, rushing harshly against the rocks.

“Night is just the day without light. What troubles you so that you cannot walk in it? There is nothing to harm you in these woods.” He offered, eyes flickering with green jealousy.

“There are wolves and mean sprites at night. Even forgetting that, I can’t find my way back without being able to see where I’m putting my feet.” You joked as the Darkness’ fingers tested the space outside of the roots, his claws curling into his own palm.

“Wolves are not after prey such as you.” The Darkness rebuked, “If I were here, no evil is greater than I. We would be alone, to enjoy the silence.”

You noted the whimsical tone of his statement, “Alone?” You asked gently, “Alone to do what? I have no songs about the night.”

He did not miss the joke, “All I would ask is that you sit, and talk with me.”

The rain hissed as it poured against the trees and greenery. You were both quiet for a moment as you digested his request.

“Perhaps not tonight.” You replied, “I…”

“I do not need an explanation.” The Darkness’ tone was harsh, “I understand that your kindness does not go that far.”

“This is not a kindness. I do not pity you.” Taking a handful of leaves, you began to peel them from their stems.

“If not pity, then why do you still come?” He asked with a snarl, his pointed teeth clenched.

Peeling another leaf apart, you wondered why you still entertained his request, “I suppose that I have come to enjoy your retched company.”

“You flatter me, harpist.” The anger seemed to dissolve from him, “Then why not come, entertain me in flesh, tonight?”

“Not tonight.” You smiled as you stood up, gathering your harp and shaking the sticks from your coat, “I heard there will be a storm soon.”

The Darkness moaned softly in the shadows, “Yes. Such a wonderous event. The fear, the agony and the unrest to the land. A time for my shadows to spread further.” He purred inside the roots before his burning gaze rested on you, “Meet me then, in the thunderstorm, I beg of you, my sweet.” His claws peered from the shadow before receding.

The taste of blood covered your tongue from biting your cheek, “When?”

“The day after next.” He whispered as you dipped your hand into the roots. The cold touch of the shadows made you shudder before there was a press of something to the back of your hand, “Wear something to dance.” The Darkness hummed before his lids grew tired and he disappeared into the roots. You jumped and took your hand back as the oak tree groaned and moved back its old roots, hiding the opening once more.

Thunder crashed for most of the next day before the real storm swirled over the land, black clouds twisting in on one another, rolling and spewing torrents of hammering rain. Wind blew down the mountainside for most of the morning. Carefully you chose and outfit in the afternoon, shuddering as the rain bounced off your windows, twirling in the fine silks and singing with the harp clutched in your hand about angering the mother of the skies. You watched the sun set as you ate, spooning your food into your mouth as fast as you could manage before you stole away into your room to grab at the large coat. The rain lightening as you stepped outside, your harp protected in your bag from the torrents. With a smile, you bounced into the woodlands from the cottage’s backdoor, mouth open wide as you sung once more.

“Rain and wind, thunder and howl, across ye plains. Birth of life, green and root, into the soil ‘gain. As the sun sleeps, douse the land, with water o’plenty. Watch and wait for Mother to sing, about when the larder was empty.” You sang as you rushed into the woods, listening in fear for the wolves as the rain slowed to a drizzle. Your hood flew from your head as you rushed beneath and over the homes of many animals, hunkered down away from the foul weather.

Suddenly, you were laughing, twirling into the stream as the rain soaked your hair and the water filled your pumps. A great thunderous crash made you face the sky, looking into the clouds as blue electricity singed across their surface. Another crash was accompanied with a flash of light and you grinned at the power of it before jumping from the stream and throwing your coat off, the silks attached to your shoulders flaring as you plucked your harp from your bag and played over the rain and thunder, spinning in the moss beneath the Old Oak.

“Sweet harpist.” The Darkness purred and you opened your eyes as black silk and cloth rippled in front of the tree, the roots closing with a groan of upset behind his giant figure. The clothing covering him draped over his giant, ebony horns, falling in waves that rippled with the wind. You peered into the hood and saw his orange eyes. His eyes watched you, panting, sodden with the rain falling from the sky. His clawed hand reached from within the cloth covering and you span from his reach with a gentle pluck of your harp.

“You tease me.” He offered before another thunderous crash sounded, along with his laughter. The cape hood and cape around him billowed again in the wind, the encrusted jewels clinking, and you looked to see as the silk around his arms in two cuffs ripple gently. His form was interchangeable, and you watched him float before two cloven hooves thudded to the ground from beneath the bottom seam of the cloth.

“Are you going to dance with me, my lord?” You asked as you span to play your harp away in your bag, thrown beneath the tree.

The Darkness nodded from within the hood and offered his red, clawed hands once more, “Let us celebrate this night.” He rumbled; his voice distorted as the thunder rumbled again overhead.

In his palms, your hands were dwarfed by his own, and you held onto them tightly as the Darkness drew you in closer to him, his silks blending with your own before he led you around in a small circle, one arm outstretched and the other placed at your hip. The cadence of the rain grew louder and louder as you both twirled past the oak tree and through the woodlands, trampling flowers and brambles as you span around in each other’s embrace. Rain soaked you as you laughed and ducked beneath his arms, and the Darkness howled with laughter as the thunder crashed and boomed overhead. A lightning flash revealed his red face, sharp, angular, and long with a mouth of white teeth, his incisors long and sharp. He leaned over and you reached to catch his face, pausing your dance in a great meadow which was soiled and boggy with water. Gently, you took hold of his cheeks, running your wet thumbs over his boiling skin. His hooves sunk in the mud as he leaned closer to you, staring into your eyes as the rain dripped from his great horns.

“I suppose you think me a monster?” He asked as the thunder rolled above you both, drowning his bitter laughter from your ears.

“You’re the Darkness. You are not man nor monster.” You whispered close to his lips, “You are balance and sin.” It seemed like your tongue was loosened, “The sprites warned me…about temptation but you have given me nothing but comfort. There has been no agony, only laughter.” You reached to his pointed ears and closed your eyes as the rain rushed over you both.

The Darkness raised his great cloak and shielded you both from the downpour as his lips pressed against your own. It was gentle at first, hot and intimate, before his teeth nipped at your lower lip and his pointed tongue pressed into your mouth, hot against the coldness of your own mouth from standing in the rain. The Darkness wrapped you tighter beneath his cloth, the silk brushing your damp skin as one large hand cupped your face, his thumb tipping your head higher, and his other skated down your chest before cupping the small of your back.

The kiss was long and passionate, filled with the decadence of the night, some things that the light simply could not offer to you. He pulled himself away from your lips, leaving you gasping for air as you recovered, wrapped in his great cloak.

“I feel…many things, when I am with you, little one.” The Darkness confessed into the folds of his cloak, his eyes looking into your own, meeting them with a confidence you had never seen before in an courter, “I would make you my ruler.” He confessed as he pressed your hand to his hot chest, underneath the cloth.

You looked up at him as rain dripped from his horns and over your own face, dripping down the bridge of your nose in speedy tracks, “I don’t want to be a master.”

“Then play for me, for all time. Play music and inspire my name into those once more.” He begged softly, clutching your hands before he hissed, the thunder crashing overhead once more.

“Can we be together?” You asked in a whisper, fear making your fingers tremble.

“For eternity.” He promised, “Beyond and after the ends of time. Sing songs of Darkness and Love for me.”

“Eternity…”

There was another rumble, and you took his hands again, before the lightning struck a tree in the distance sending fire and wood exploding into the sky. His hood disappeared with a gale of wind before the cloth and silk wrapped around you once more and the Darkness hefted you into his arms, bleeding black with shadows and darkness as the storm and its plight fed him power. You leaned back in awe of the sky, rain burning your eyes as the clouds rolled above you. A great growl sounded from your lover’s chest before he laid you back against a great stone tablet, made for the harvest ceremonies of the fae. Your back met the stone gently before the silks slapped and stuck to the rock and you moved backwards as a furred leg rested against the edge. Red and black merged on his skin as he took hold of the silk and pulled you to the lip of the table, his eyes hungry for a taste of you.

“Can we do this here?” You asked, breath escaping you as his huge form covered you, the black material shielding you from the rain as he stole another deep kiss.

“Yes. Anywhere. Whenever. I adore you.” He heaved as he pulled away, his words heavy in the air as he leaned back to tear as your clothing, exposing perfection to his gaze, “You are temptation.” He uttered with another heavy groan as lightning struck the earth again, “Glorious Sin.” He moaned as his tongue laved at your neck, tasting the flesh, “Surely this is what innocence tastes of. Purity and…” The Darkness broke off into another guttural moan as he kissed down your chest, pressing his tongue to your nipples, enjoying them as they hardened into sharp peaks. His hot breath pebbled your cold skin and he moved over your stomach, squeezing, and enjoying himself as he reached the dip of your hips. His tongue dipped to wrap around you, and you writhed against the table as rain crashed against the hillside.

#legend 1985 #darkness x reader #the lord of darkness x reader #the lord of darkness #the darkness #darkness #legend #reader insert #demon x reader #monster x reader #devil x reader #gender neutral reader #monster boyfriend #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #monster bf #monster x human

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when-they-write-stuff · 3 years

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Well, you're a hot mess (and I'm falling for you)

Written for this moodboard and I totally forgot to finish this, but here we are now! Thank you @fanficmakesmehappy for the permission and amazing moodboard, I had a ton of fun writing this!

Stiles was so ready for his first college party.

After surviving werewolves, hunters, literal demons, and a multitude of other supernatural creatures hellbent on killing him and his friends, a party was nothing. He was ready to get drunk under neon lights and forget about his (not so) normal life, thank you very much.

But then Derek Hale showed up.

Stiles knew he’d never escape the supernatural. He didn’t want to, not really. After four long years of running around Beacon Hills from some threat or other, he figured that was just his life now. But he also deserved a break, okay? A break from multi-colored eyes, from fangs and sideburns, from anything that had to do with Derek literal Hale.

Derek Hale, the guy Stiles had been pining after for years. Derek Hale, who he was planning on finally forgetting with lots of drinking, dancing, and whatever else started with a ‘d’ and ended with him pretending the supernatural didn’t exist.

And that was supposed to start tonight; at his first college party.

Except Derek was such a stalker.

Stiles wondered if he was hallucinating at first. Sure, he got the occasional visit from one packmate or another. Sometimes they stole his clothes, sometimes they just curled around him and refused to leave until morning. But Derek only got in contact when he needed something. Research, a status update, questions about the bestiary.

And Stiles was supposed to be forgetting him, remember? Only, he didn’t know how he was supposed to do that when Derek was standing across the room looking like literal sex on legs.

This really wasn’t fair. The man looked downright sinful underneath the neon lights and why the hell could he never wear jeans that actually fit? It was way too hot in the room for a leather jacket, but Derek was definitely wearing a v-neck underneath and Stiles might have a heart attack if he took any more layers off. In fact, he might have a heart attack anyway.

He had two options, Stiles figured, turning his back toward Derek and gripping his cup tighter. Go over there and chew the asshole out for obvious stalking, or pretend like this was a hallucination and get as drunk as possible. Because Stiles had a plan; drinking, dancing, forgetting.

And you know what? He was so sticking to the plan.

Like a godsend, that came in the form of a blond-haired guy slipping onto the stool at Stiles’s side, a smirk going up to sharp blue eyes.

“Hey, there.”

Stiles was quick to down the rest of his drink, wrinkling his nose at the taste of cheap beer. But anything to give him a bit of an edge on this conversation, right?

The guy smirked when Stiles turned toward him, offering out a hand. “I’m Chet.”

“Stiles.”

“... Stiles?”

“It’s a nickname,” Stiles said, grimacing. He got enough strange looks from his professors to know that he was going to be explaining this to everyone for the rest of his college career. That was one thing he wouldn’t miss about high school. At least there, people had learned to just not ask.

“Weird,” Chet said, looking a little more disinterested. Stiles laughed a little, glancing across the room involuntarily.

Derek was still staring at him. And now, the man was starting to look a little murderous.

“It doesn’t matter,” Stiles said, wrenching his gaze away. He smiled at the other boy, nodding toward the open floor. “You dance?”

Chet studied him for a long moment, then smirked back. Stiles firmly avoided looking in Derek’s direction as the guy grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him off the stool toward the neon flashing lights, a strange pit already forming in his stomach.

It wasn’t excitement, exactly. Or… Stiles wasn’t sure. Maybe it was. Maybe it should be. He swallowed hard and let Chet pull him closer, suddenly wishing he had drunk a bit more.

Or maybe had something stronger.

“You are so fucking gorgeous,” Chet said, lips brushing against the shell of his ear. “You do know that, right?”

Those words were enough to snap Stiles out of his thoughts. He looked at Chet in surprise, who tilted his head, eyes traveling all the way down Stiles’s body appreciatively.

“Guy like you shouldn’t be sitting at a party alone.”

“I don’t usually do this,” Stiles said, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. Chet tilted his head and Stiles flushed bright red, internally cursing himself. “Parties, dancing. Uh—”

“Well,” Chet said, cutting him off. “I guess I get the privilege of being your first, then.”

Despite everything, despite the intoxicating closeness of guy, Stiles felt his eyes drifting across the room again. Only to realize that Derek was gone. The place he’d been was empty, as if the werewolf had never been around in the first place.

“Hey,” Chet said, catching his chin and guiding his gaze back forward. “Stiles. Eyes on me.”

Stiles nearly pulled away. Because Derek— Derek— he hadn’t imagined the man, had he? That could be typical Stiles, though, he supposed. Getting out to his first party to forget about the fluffy asshole only to imagine he was seeing him everywhere.

“You,” Chet said, kissing him on the neck. “Are so fucking—” another brush of lips— “Hot.”

Drink, dancing, and forgetting. That was the point of tonight.

“My kind of fucking hot.”

“O-okay,” Stiles said, finally tugging away. He offered the guy his best apologetic smile, although he didn’t really feel it. “I’m sorry, man, really. But not tonight.”

Chet’s smile wavered. Stiles chuckled nervously, stepping back.

“I’m just, uh, tired. I should get going.”

“Oh, come on,” Chet said, catching the front of his shirt again. He pulled Stiles close enough that Stiles could feel warm breaths against his face, making him wince. “Stiles. Nobody likes a tease.”

“Okay, dude—”

But Stiles didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before there was a pair of lips crushing against his own. He squeaked in surprise and tried to yank back but before he even could, there was a loud roar and Chet was ripped away from him.

A loud crash filled the air as the guy went tumbling sideways into the punch table.

The sound of chattered died like someone had fired a gun. Stiles froze, his heart still thudding against his chest, and then he realized it was Derek standing in front of him. Fists clenched, shoulders squared— like a guard dog or something.

Derek Hale. Real and totally here, not just a pining part of Stiles’s stupid brain.

“Oh my god,” Stiles said, slowly coming back to reality. The music still played and the lights still flashed, but people were definitely staring now. And when Derek looked over his shoulder, meeting Stiles’s gaze, there was definitely a bit of red in his eyes.

Oh, god.

Stiles laughed nervously, grabbing the man by the jacket and pulling him away from the overturned drinks table. Chet looked like he was in shock, white shirt doused with beer and punch, his face as pale as a sheet.

“O-kay, Sourwolf,” Stiles said, guiding Derek toward the frat house door. His heart was still thudding against his chest and he could feel every eye staring them down. “We’re just gonna go get some fresh air now, okay?”

Stiles managed to get him to the door, but before he could pull him out, Derek pulled away and gave Chet a full-on death glare. The guy whimpered, shying even further into the floor, and Stiles could’ve sworn there was a growl in Derek’s voice when he spoke.

“You ever so much as look in his direction again, I’ll rip your throat out.”

Chet’s eyes rounded and he averted his gaze. Stiles’s heart was in his throat as he pulled Derek out the door, into the fresh night air, and all but slammed the door of the now-silent party at his back.

They barely made it to the sidewalk before Derek was grabbing Stiles by the arms and searching him up and down.

“Dude, dude, dude,” Stiles said, trying to wiggle free. “Stop it, Sourwolf, I’m fine!”

“I should have thrown him harder,” Derek growled. “Maybe out a window.”

“Woah, no,” Stiles said, raising his hands as he finally managed to pull free. “Manslaughter would definitely not be good for any of us, dude. Especially not you.”

Derek scowled, but some of the red was gone from his eyes, at least. Stiles searched him down, his brain still playing slow catch-up to everything that had just happened.

“Dude,” he said. “What the hell was that?”

“What was what.”

“What was— Derek! A simple knee to the nuts would have sufficed! You nearly wolfed out in front of everyone.”

Derek looked at him, face betraying nothing. Though, he didn’t look bothered by that fact. Stiles stared, then rubbed a hand over his face, groaning.

“Oh my god. What are you doing here anyway?”

“I was in the area.”

Stiles lowered his hand, blinking at the man. “You were in the area?”

“Yes.”

“Derek, you’re never in the freaking area! Not without a text about some stupid thing that you need me to research, anyway. What the hell was that back there? How the hell did you know where I’d be anyway?”

Derek held his gaze, then growled, tearing it away. Stiles stared in shock as the man started down the sidewalk, hands shoved into his pockets. He bit down on his tongue, cursed, and then chased after the werewolf.

“Derek, dude, stop!”

“I was nearby,” Derek said, spinning around. “And— and—”

“And what?”

“And Erica told me you were going to a party!”

Stiles blinked. Faintly, he remembered texting Erica a few outfits to get her professional opinion before he’d left his dorm, but he’d never expected the beta to report back on him. Even in the darkness, Derek’s face was bright red, and Stiles nodded carefully, trying to process that information.

“So?”

“So,” Derek said, glowering. “Clearly, it’s a good thing I was there.”

“Clearly— hey! That’s an asshole move.”

“The guy kissing you when you didn’t want it was an asshole move.”

Stiles swallowed hard, dropping his gaze. For a moment, the silence reigned, the cool air filtering around them, and Stiles shivered.

Then Derek sighed. Before Stiles could even react, the man was slipping off his jacket and wrapping it around his shoulders, easily avoiding Stiles’s surprised stare. The stare didn’t last long though, as Stiles took in the man’s freaking too tight v-neck, and dammit, that so wasn’t fair.

“Dude,” Stiles said, averting his gaze. “Really?”

Derek raised an eyebrow. Stiles just flushed, unconsciously pulling the jacket tighter around him.

“Nevermind.”

“Do you,” Derek said hesitantly. “Want to go back inside?”

Stiles looked at him in surprise again. The man didn’t look happy at all about the words that had come out of his mouth, but he just shrugged.

“I can leave, Stiles. I didn’t mean to ruin your night.”

“Oh my god, Sourwolf,” Stiles said. “Please never apologize for threatening someone like Chet ever again.”

Derek scoffed slightly. Stiles grinned.

“Though, I thought the whole ‘rip your throat out’ thing was our thing.”

One eyebrow raised. Stiles blushed.

“Not like that. Er, you know. In like a sexy threatening Alpha werewolf kind of way.”

“Oh?”

“Shut up,” he said. “Stop smirking.”

“Okay,” Derek said, a hint of a smile still tugging at his lips. And why hadn’t Stiles seen him look like this before? “So, your first college party was a bust. But it’s usually not the only one, you know.”

Stiles blinked. “What?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Don’t look so surprised.”

“You… went to college.”

The man’s face did something strange. “Stiles, you do realize werewolves do things like that too, right?”

“Yeah, uh, yeah,” Stiles said, shaking his head. “I just…”

It was Derek. The words died on his tongue as he eyed the man, some strange emotion forming in his chest again. But this time, he thought it might actually be excitement. Or maybe nerves. Or maybe a mix of both.

“Hey, Derek,” he said carefully. “Take me out?’

The man’s eyes widened. And what had Stiles been telling himself earlier? Drinking, dancing, forgetting. But the last thing he’d expected was to see Derek Hale. All green eyes, too-tight jeans, and a v-neck that was literally the sexiest thing Stiles had somehow ever seen.

Derek Hale.

There was no way he was getting over him tonight.

“Take me somewhere,” Stiles said, heart thudding against his chest. Derek’s eyes sparked a little red.

“Okay.”

“So,” Stiles said, sitting on the edge of the sidewalk. When Derek had taken him to get streetside hot dogs of all things, Stiles had thought he was joking. But then there they were, sitting in the dark, eating street meat. “Tell me about your college.”

The man glanced over, mouth full. Stiles snorted.

“Where did you go, dude? What was your major? Why have I never heard about this before?”

“I don’t like to advertise my life,” Derek said, swallowing. “But I went to NYU. And got a degree in Engineering.”

Stiles’s blinked. Derek’s ears turned a little red.

“I like fixing cars.”

Stiles huffed, grinning out at the street. It looked like there was a bar or something across from them, music coming from the open door and bright lights dancing out onto the sidewalk.

“You should start your own business or something,” he said thoughtfully. “Fixing up cars.”

Derek snorted. Stiles grinned over at him, elbowing the man.

“Shut up, I’m being serious!”

“Hm.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, sticking the last of his food in his mouth and jumping up. Derek gave him a surprised look as Stiles hauled the man to his feet and started across the street. There was a loud honk and a cab barely swerved to avoid them, making Stiles bark out in laughter.

Derek gave him a slightly terrified, slightly confused look.

Stiles just grinned brighter, stumbling through the door of the lit up the building and pulling Derek with him. And, turning around, he realized it was more of a club than a bar.

Which was even better.

“Okay,” Stiles said, eyes sweeping over the crowded dance floor. “This is so much better than a college party.”

“Stiles—”

“Oh, come on, you big lump,” Stiles said, pulling the man along again. “We’re going dancing.”

Derek made a noise of protest, but Stiles barely heard him. Tugging him into the crowd, he nearly lost the man’s hand in the throng of people twice. The lights flashed, almost blinding, the smell of alcohol hung heavy in the air, and Stiles spun around on the middle of the dance floor to see Derek looking wide-eyed and red-faced, the color going all the way to his ears.

Stiles raised an eyebrow. “You ever go dancing at NYU, Sourwolf?”

“Shut up.”

“Because,” Stiles said, stepping closer. “That’s what tonight was supposed to be all about.”

“Stiles, I don’t know if—”

“It’s a necessary college experience,” Stiles said, glancing up at the werewolf. “That’s what I’ve heard anyway.”

Derek’s eyes darted from Stiles’s own, to his lips, then back up. And for a moment, Stiles was almost nervous. Because what if he’d taken tonight one step too far? Oh god, what if he was pulling a Chet?

But then the man pulled Stiles forward by the folds of his jacket and slid closer to where he was obviously welcome. And Stiles smiled brightly at that— he couldn’t help it.

If he was going to drink and dance with anyone tonight, it was going to be Derek Hale.

Only Derek Hale.

“I want you to touch me,” Stiles said, guiding the man’s hands down to his hips. Derek’s eyes flashed red and he wrapped an arm around Stiles’s waist, pulling him even closer.

Stiles exe. almost logged off, but somehow, he still managed to keep his head. Raising his chin, Stiles searched the man’s face, teeth sinking down into his lower lip.

And fuck, if Derek wasn’t the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Under the ever-changing lights, his eyes were a kaleidoscope of colors. Stiles didn’t often see the Alpha let down his guard, but Derek was open and gentle with his arms wrapped around Stiles’s waist now. And Stiles didn’t know such a tight grip could be so careful when the man held him close, forehead brushing against Stiles’s own.

“Derek,” Stiles whispered, closing his eyes. The man’s breaths were soft and warm against his face. And it so, so different than earlier.

“Fuck, Stiles.”

Stiles’s heart skipped a beat and he huffed a small laugh. “Language, Sourwolf.”

“Oh, yeah?”

He glanced back up, smirking softly. The man searched his face, eyes dropping a little lower again, and before Stiles could stop himself, he was meeting Derek halfway, pressing his lips against the werewolf’s own.

He’d had a few rules going into college. Stay on track. Don’t eat curly fries for dinner every night. And try to move on from Derek Hale.

This was so far from trying but Stiles couldn’t find it in himself to even care.

Because dammit, Derek had been what Stiles had missed the most. Derek had been the one Stiles had always hoped to see when there was a knock on his door. It was Derek, it had always been Derek. And maybe, maybe that was just how it was supposed to be.

Derek kissed him soft, open, and warm. Fingers brushed over the skin above the waistband of Stiles’s jeans, looping through the belt loops and pulling him even closer. And hell, this was better than the stuff of Stiles’s best fantasies. Teenage daydreams when he’d been sixteen and slowly coming to reality with his sexuality.

“Goddammit,” Stiles murmured against his lips. “Fuck, Derek.”

“Language.”

Stiles laughed and kissed him harder, stubble rubbing against his cheeks, sweat beading on his forehead. It was so freaking hot in the club and Derek’s jacket wasn’t helping— except for it, for everything around him smelled like Derek.

Leather, pine, and aftershave.

Faintly, Stiles realized loved that smell. He loved the fit of Derek pressed up against him. The way the man felt kissing him.

Faintly, he realized he just might be in love with Derek Hale.

Stiles didn’t know what kind of song was playing when they drew apart, heart thudding against his chest. Glancing up, he was almost pleased to see the red in Derek’s eyes, the hunger on his face. Stiles grinned, tilting his head.

“So, Sourwolf. Maybe it is a good thing you showed up after all.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. Stiles laughed.

“And maybe, I might just need you to attend other parties at my side in the future. You know, because no one would ever cross a werewolf and what belongs to him.”

The man’s eyes sparked even brighter. Flashes of pure red in the neon lights. Stiles leaned forward and brushed his lips against the man’s again, just barely not making full contact.

“So, Alpha? What do ya say?”

Derek’s grip tightened, and all assumptions of ‘careful’ from earlier went down the drain. Stiles could help the way his heart leaped into his throat as Derek growled, nipping sharply at his lower lip. “Mine.”

“Yeah?”

Derek kissed him again, hard and hungry. Stiles closed his eyes again, drinking in the taste of the man, the feeling of the hands tight around his waist. And yeah, he could be that, he thought. Down the drain with with ‘careful’, down the drain with drinking, forgetting.

Down the drain with almost all things except for a few beginning with the letter ‘d’.

He thought Derek Hale might be a good start.

I had a slight idea where I wanted this to go and then it didn't go there at all XD But I'm alright with how it turned out!

(if you enjoy my writing, consider sending a coffee? You can also request a prompt if you’d like!). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer

#sterek #teen wolf #derek hale #stiles stilinski #fanficmakesmehappy #sterek au #teen wolf au #fluff #humor #derek hale x stiles stilinski #derek x stiles #stiles x derek #sterek moodboard #prompts #ficlet

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aethelflaedladyofmercia · 3 years

Text

Blood and Rain (Good Omens)

@whumptober2020 - Using Prompt 9 “For the Greater Good” and Prompt 30 “Now Where Did That Come From.” CW for injuries and cliffhanger ending.

The Bentley careened off the road into a ditch, narrowly avoiding the blast of lightning that grounded itself on the asphalt.

Aziraphale and Crowley both summoned as many miracles as they could in the three seconds before the front of the vintage car hit the tree. The windscreen shattered - branches speared in at driver and passenger. Crowley’s forehead hit the steering wheel, but though the impact rattled him, he’d managed to prevent any damage to his corporation.

“Are you--” Crowley started, but was cut off by a crash of thunder. Not from the bolt that had almost hit them, but from the next, and the next.

“They aren’t giving up,” Aziraphale called, as flashes of blue-white light crept closer and closer. “We’ll have to run.”

“Run?” Crowley glanced behind them. He tried to keep his tone calm, but behind his glasses his eyes were wide and serpentine. “You think we’ll be safer running through a field than in a car?”

“Do you believe this is a mundane storm?” Hailstones began to pound the roof of the car, shaking it. One left a dent so deep they could see it from the inside.

“I was...really hoping,” Crowley grumbled, even as he threw open the door and scrambled out. Despite the sting of the hail and rain, he paused for a quick glance at the front end of the Bentley - the tree had dented the front, but not crumpled it. The engine was probably intact. He lay a hand on the battered roof and whispered, “We’ll come back for you,” before pushing through the bushes and into the field beyond.

Rain and cold sliced his skin as he raced through the knee-high grass, catching up to Aziraphale. Already the angel was puffing and struggling, right hand pressed to his side.

“We need...someplace to hide!” Aziraphale shouted over the rising storm, wind catching his words and tearing them away.

“Where?” Crowley took the angel’s left hand, pulling him onward. “A church?”

“Probably not.” Aziraphale’s voice was lost in the next lightning strike, a blinding explosion far too close for comfort, showering them with mud and shattered rock. At least the hail seemed to have died. Crowley tugged harder, trying to speed Aziraphale up. “Feels more...like my side...than yours…” the angel gasped.

“Not your side,” Crowley snarled. “We have our own side.”

“Of course. How could I forget?”

Crowley turned back in time to see the weak smile - but he also saw how pale Aziraphale’s face was, and the dark line above his brow, and the blood dripping just past his eye.

“Aziraphale!” He skidded to a halt in the mud, so abruptly Aziraphale bumped into him with a muffled gasp. “What - your head!”

Blinking in confusion, Aziraphale dropped Crowley’s hand to swipe at his face, looking at the mix of blood and rain on his fingers. “Oh...oh...the car…”

“Didn’t you protect yourself, you idiot?” Crowley pressed numb fingers to the wound, trying to heal it.

“Well...yes.” Aziraphale gulped and struggled to catch his breath. “Tried to...keep your car...intact at the same time. But...it would appear I...I failed at both.”

Lighting flashed again, searing into the ground ahead of them, then behind. The rain doubled, and hailstones fell once more. One struck the back of Crowley’s hand, another caught Aziraphale on the side of the head.

With a wordless shout, Crowley snapped out his wings, wrapping them both in a feathery embrace, shielding them from the storm. “We have to keep going, Aziraphale,” he mumbled, pulling his angel close.

“Mmmm,” Aziraphale started, the sound lost in the wind and thunder. His left hand clutched at Crowley. “No, my dear. You have to keep going.” Crowley started to growl an objection, but Aziraphale cut him off with a hand to his chest. “Listen, we don’t have much time. You were always better at running and hiding. It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he said quickly, not giving Crowley time to interject, “but I’ll only slow you down. I’ll hold them off, you find a place to hide. Burrow, if you can. That should help.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Crowley snarled. He crushed Aziraphale to his chest, wings tight around them. Through the feathers, they could see the flashes of lightning, drawing closer.

Aziraphale grunted in frustration. “Don’t be absurd. I’m the better fighter, Crowley. I’ll handle them, then I’ll come find you.”

“But--”

“There’s no time!” He shoved Crowley, a one-handed push strong enough to send him stumbling back. “Run! Just run!”

Another bolt of lightning and the air filled with the burnt-match scent of sulfur. Power from the sky and the smell of the pits. Strange how Heaven and Hell could be so utterly indistinguishable.

Crowley surged forward, grabbed Aziraphale by the lapels, and kissed him. It was rushed, fumbling, and tasted of blood and rain. The angel had probably bit his lip in the accident. One soft hand pressed against the small of his back, pulling him closer.

When Crowley released him, Aziraphale smiled and patted his arm. “I’ll see you soon, my love. Now, please. Go.”

And though it hurt more than anything he’d ever done, Crowley turned and ran, into the storm and hail and wind. He tucked his wings away and shifted forms - as a serpent he was faster than any human - winding his way through the jungle of grass and hailstones as large as his skull. He could no longer hear the lightning, but he could see it, and feel it, a gut-twisting surge through his stomach as the ground rolled and swelled like an ocean.

In a little more than a minute, he reached the far side of the field. Rearing up, head above the grass, Crowley could see a ditch, a hedgerow, probably some very upset sheep on the other side, looking for shelter. Not ideal, but he was running out of residual heat from his time in human form. A few more minutes and he would succumb to the torpor, but if he could find a burrow first…

Crowley slid along the ditch, looping around more hailstones and torn-off twigs. His back and sides already felt bruised from the icy assault. He flicked his tongue, but of course all he could taste was rain, and mud, and the lingering flavor of Aziraphale’s blood.

He flicked his tongue again.

It didn’t taste right, the blood, too thick, too...much for a bitten lip.

He’d been bleeding from the head.

And gotten out of breath far too quickly, even by Aziraphale’s standards.

And he’d only moved and gestured with one hand, the other clamped tight to his side.

And he’d grunted and gasped whenever Crowley touched him…

Rearing up again, Crowley looked at the hail, the damage it had caused. No chance it had only just restarted. The hail had been falling since the moment the Bentley crashed, and Aziraphale had been shielding them until…

Until he hadn’t had the strength anymore.

Crowley shot back across the grass, moving faster than he ever had before, ignoring cold and rain and pounding hail. In barely half a minute, he could see - up ahead - glowing figures of pure light, at least half a dozen, surrounding one who was pale and dim, kneeling half-collapsed on the ground.

The serpent shot past, no longer a serpent, some unnatural creature of fangs and claws and wings.

He threw himself at the nearest figure, mauling it, teeth sinking into its throat. Then he kicked free and launched towards the next, coiling around it, grabbing at its head with clawed hands while his wings flapped wildly.

Crowley wouldn’t last long. He was no fighter - he was a coward, a trickster, a being that lurked in the shadows. But right now, he had the element of surprise and six thousand years of protective instincts. He would not let them hurt his angel.

By the time the glowing beings had beaten him down and thrown him into the mud, too weak to stand, he’d put three of them out of the fight.

“Glad that’s settled,” one of them growled. “Which do we take?”

The voice wasn’t familiar - nothing about them was familiar. They didn’t quite feel like angels, but they certainly weren’t demons.

“Doesn’t matter,” another said. “Either’s as good as the other. Just grab one before they notice.”

“Take me,” Crowley said immediately, pushing himself up by his arms, crawling forward with teeth bared.

A foot lashed out, kicking him in the jaw. “The other one is less trouble.”

Crowley glanced over his shoulder. Aziraphale lay on his side, eyes dazed, mouth moving weakly. His chin was still streaked with blood that he’d coughed up, dripping down to mix with the rain around him. Whatever they’d done to him, he wouldn’t be getting up any time soon.

Pushing himself up again, Crowley glared at their attackers. “You will take me. If you even touch him, I will fight you until you have to destroy me. And I don’t think you have time for that.”

“But if we take you, you’ll come quietly?”

Crowley nodded.

Glowing fingers grabbed him by the hair and pulled him upright. Crowley bit back a shout and shifted the rest of the way to human form. As soon as he’d changed, one of the beings hit him in the stomach, nearly knocking him over again.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale, still in the mud, struggled to rise, half-dazed eyes in a panic. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, so it was something else that ran down his face.

“S’alright,” Crowley said as soothingly as he could, while bright white hands landed on his shoulders. “I know you’ll come for me.”

“Yes!” It was more a squeak, a strangled choking noise. “Wherever you are, I’ll--”

Everything turned white.

Then black.

Then white again.

And Crowley blinked, looking around a hallway that was neither Heaven nor Hell.

Sorry for the cliffhanger! I do know the next part, but not sure if I’ll get it out before the end of Whumptober. I’ll see what I can do! Thanks for reading!

#whumptober2020 #no.9 #For the Greater Good #Run #no.30 #now where did that come from #ignoring an injury #internal organ injury #good omens #fandom #wounds #blood #car crash #losing consciousness #abduction #good omens fanfiction #my writing #whump

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thesecretfandom · 4 years

Text

Mortal Creatures: Chapter Eight

VIII. Meanwhile

Summary: What is going on in Heaven and Hell while Betty and Jughead explore Earth?

Work Count: 970

In Heaven…

Archie hadn't seen Betty in two days now. It wouldn't be all that strange if he was on an assignment, but he'd been doing office work this week, watching his charges by way of the Window to Earth. Only four Angels lived in the same house as Archie, with Betty being one of them. It was unheard of that he wouldn't see her at some point in the forty-eight hours since he'd last spoke to her. Considering Head Angel Alice had granted her a week's leave from her work, Archie had expected to be barraged with questions from the well-meaning but incessantly bothersome friend of his.

Ethel and Kevin were the only two roommates he found in their shared living space, discussing their work from that day.

"Have either of you seen Betty recently?" Archie asked, interrupting their conversation.

"No, Head Angel Alice gave her the week off." Ethel replied.

Archie rolled his eyes. Of course he already knew that.

"Kevin?" Archie turned to the Gatekeeper. He knew that, after himself, Kevin was Betty's closest friend.

"She came to visit me at the Gate the other day. I guess you were probably busy with something, so she stopped by to talk to me for once." Kevin joked.

"Was she acting strangely?"

"Not that I noticed. Just asking lots of question, as per the usual." Kevin looked at Archie with a sideways glance. In fact, Archie was the one acting strangely. Normally he'd be grateful that Betty wasn't bothering him with her endless questions.

"Questions… what kind of questions?"

"She was asking less questions than you are right now." Kevin responded. Ethel laughed. "I mean, she was just asking me about the Gates and how they worked. She didn't stay long."

Archie could feel his mind racing, and if he had a pulse he expected that would've been through the roof as well. She was last seen at the Gates, and if there's one thing every Angel in Heaven knew, it was how badly Betty wanted to go to Earth. There was only one thing left for him to do.

Archie was soon standing just outside the office of Head Angel Alice. He held his hand up to knock, but before he could, he was interrupted.

"Come in, Guardian Archibald."

He opened the door and the Head Angel sat watching him expectantly.

"Head Angel." He offered a slight bow before stepping into her office and closing the door behind him. "I am here to talk to you about Bett- er, Elizabeth."

"What seems to be the problem? Other than her unusual obsession with Earth, which is no news to me."

"Earth is actually the problem, I think." Archie thought for a moment that he should not share his suspicions. Betty would be in huge trouble with the Head Angel if she was caught going to Earth without permission. Then he thought about the kind of trouble she might be in down there, and decided Alice was the least of Betty's problems. "Elizabeth hasn't been seen since you granted her the week off, and Kevin saw her at the gates."

"What are you suggesting?" There was a hardness in Alice's eyes. She knew exactly what he was suggesting, and was daring Archie to betray his friend.

"I think she ran away to Earth."

A small smile tugged at the Head Angel's lips and she beckoned him further into the room. "Take a seat, Archibald."

In Hell…

"Where the fuck is Jughead?" Sweet Pea barged into living room where Toni and Fangs were playing a game of Blackjack with some of the other Demons. Usually, Jughead would be sat in the corner of the room ignoring everyone, as was his way. Sweet Pea found great joy in pestering Jughead endlessly, especially knowing he would never do anything to stop him. Jughead wasn't there the last two nights and Sweet Pea was missing his figurative punching bag.

"Maybe the Commander threw him in The Pit after all." Fangs offered.

"Maybe he finally made a break for it and went topside." Another Demon, Joaquin, offered up with a laugh.

Sweet Pea locked eyes with Toni. They both knew Jughead well enough to know that this wasn't as absurd and idea as Joaquin probably thought.

"It's not impossible." Toni said. "He did stop by the other day, right after he was put on probation."

"Don't tell me you let him take a joy ride…" Sweet Pea groaned. Toni said nothing. "Fuck, the Commander is gonna kill us."

"You don't have to tell him." Toni suggested, even though she knew Sweet Pea wouldn't listen.

"Of course I do. If the Commander finds out that we knew Jughead went to Earth and didn't tell him…? We'll be worse than dead. He'll throw the lot of us in The Pit, no questions asked." He clenched his hands into tight fists. For once, Jughead was paying him back for the headache's Sweet Pea had given him. "Fuck!"

Sweet Pea hesitated outside of Commander FP's office. He'd run over what he was going to say all night, but all possible outcomes ended badly for him.

"Quit loitering, Sweet Pea." The Commander bellowed from behind the closed door. "Get your sorry ass in here."

Sweet Pea cringed, but pulled open the door. "Sir."

"What do you want, Private?"

"Well, Sir…"

"Just spit it out." FP crossed his arms. "I don't need to listen to all your bumbling and ass-kissing."

Sweet Pea took a deep breath. "Jughead is missing and I think he went topside."

FP regarded him carefully. "That sorry excuse for a Demon. You have proof?"

He shook his head. "Reasonable suspicion. Toni saw him at the boats and no one has seen him since."

"Take a seat, Private. I have a job for you."

#bughead #bughead fanfic #bughead fanfiction #riverdale #bughead ediit #betty cooper #jughead jones #betty x jughead #my edit #edit #fanfic #mortal creatures

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irwinkitten · 5 years

Text

hell over me | III

note: so here i m with part three of hell over me, aka vampire!luke. this one i had the most fun writing honestly. warnings: none word count: 3.6k

part one i, part two ii, part iv, part v

The burning anger that kept building up, was going to explode. And he was fully prepared to wipe out an entire race with this anger.

Luke was never one to be left so helpless.

But when Carina was taken from his very bed, her frightened scream sent shivers down his spine.

He could hear the wolf talking with Ashton and the other siren. There was an ache in him and he knew that if he didn’t feed soon he might as well let the sirens do away with him.

‘Carina is still safe, don’t let her lose you now.’ His mind whispered.

That was the only thing that stopped his full anger.

His mate was safe. She was scared, he could feel that. But she was safe. Part of him wondered if it was due to the fact she was a witch that she was still alive.

He knew that her powers had only grown since they first met a century ago. And even then she’d been alive before he was even turned in the twelfth century.

A spike of fear followed by courage made him ready to break free, to rip each siren to shreds with no mercy. She was terrified and he could do nothing.

“You have my word I’ll try to help all four of you get out of here.” The sirens words broke Luke from focusing on the fear that seemed to engulf his mate.

“Good, because I’m ready to break these damn chains, fuck the consequences.” He peeled his eyes back, gaze turning to the wolf. “I’ll give my thanks to your Goddess when I get out of here with my mate safe.”

“Duly noted.” The wolf returned, making Ashton smirk. Luke tried his best not to roll his eyes.

“So, siren. Where do we begin?” His gaze turned to her and she shied away from his gaze, watching as Ashton bristled in the water.

“They’re trying to make the witch cast a spell. She’s been refusing.” Pride surged through Luke at the sirens words and he felt the terror recede.

‘Feel that pride sweet thing. Hold on a little longer.’ He desperately though, silently hoping that by some miracle she could hear him. He knew it was not to be, but in the water pit, any small hope was enough for him.

“A witches magic will never work if coerced. The sisterhood should know this.” His words came as a drawl and he was met with sharp eyes, a fire burning in them.

She had a backbone.

“Do you think I don’t know this? I am to be cursed for eternity if she does the spell under coercion and I want no part of this.” She snapped, her face dropping as she realised exactly who she was talking back to. Luke smirked.

“Your sisterhood sees you as an embarrassment, correct?” Pinkish spots appeared on her cheeks and Luke kept himself in check, stopping himself from letting his hunger overcome him.

Siren blood was lethal to him, he could not afford to slip up.

“I saw through their promises of this life when I joined the sisterhood. I grew depressed. I decided that if they would not free me from the bond, I would refuse to be what legends tell about us.” His eyes swept over her body, the stomach, the stretch marks. Rolls of fat in the wrong places.

“That’s what sets you apart. You have a good heart that they could not corrupt. Why else would they leave you to be in this godforsaken pit with a vampire, a werewolf and two demons, personally taken by Lucifer himself?” Her eyes darted to Ashton who nodded. The gaze then dropped to the still sleeping demon. Luke didn’t blame him. His powers had been bound for weeks now. He knew that if they didn’t get it soon enough, he would perish.

“If they catch me, they’ll make an example of me and use your witch for it.” She finally whispered and Luke shook his head.

“They’ve already caught you.” And he watched the first tear trailed down the sirens cheek.

“I know.” Was all she could whisper, pressing her lips tightly together. And Luke understood why.

A siren's wail could be deadly if they wished it. Sometimes they didn’t have the choice, their emotions dictating the wail and he realised that his words had broken her heart.

“Help the other demon, if he stays disconnected from his magic any longer, he’ll perish.”

“What about you?” Ashton asked, earning a look of gratitude from the siren as tears rolled down her cheeks, moving to where the sleeping demon lay.

“Unless they murder Carina, I’ll be fine.” He shrugged as the sirens song began, louder than before and Luke couldn’t even attempt to fight it. It was powerful and as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, he missed how the siren collapsed, body dangerously close to the water as she blacked out.

“Carina?” Beneath the scent of the dried herbs, he could smell the fumes from the potion that must have been cooking. Luke rolled his eyes as he made his way down to her laboratory.

“Sweet thing, how many times do I need to tell you that the smell of your potions do not need to be masked?” Her head shot up from the cauldron and his lips curved up into a smile that matched hers.

“As many times as it takes, mi amor. The nightshade was particularly foul when it was added, hence the herbs.” He laughed as he watched her eyes return to the bubbling pot, tugging back a small tuft of jet black that had escaped the hair tie.

Moving to stand behind his mate, Luke allowed his hands to capture the strand of hair, fingers pulling the hair tie out before he began to pull her hair back properly, twisting it easily into a tight bun before securing it with the tie once more as she added the next ingredient.

His nose told him it was crushed nettles.

“Thank you mi amor, I’ll be up in an hour.” He dropped a kiss to the juncture on her neck before he made his way back up. He knew better than to try and claim her attention when she was brewing.

Greeted by the clatter of claws as he made his way to the kitchen, Luke chuckled as the small dog skidded to a halt in front of him, sitting herself down and looking up with pleading eyes.

“Your mama is busy my girl. How about we head out for a walk?” He had her leash in his hands within seconds. The only response he got was a wagging tail, making him laugh as they left the house, knowing that she would know whether he told Carina or not.

Small mercies came with his mate, despite the species barrier between the two of them. She’d created a talisman that helped him to blend in with the humans that they interacted with. Other supernatural creatures would recognise him for what he was, but humans remained in the dark.

When they’d found a small pup left in the cold to die, Carina had nursed her back to health and named her Petunia. Luke had no say in their adoption of the dog, but when she’d cast a spell that muted their dogs instincts when it came to Luke, he was entirely smitten with the creature.

He wasn’t surprised a decade later, when she finally admitted she’d cast a second spell on their dog which tied her life to theirs. In other words, their dog was just as immortal as they were.

The walk was with ease, Luke nodding to a few of the humans that seemed to be out with their own pets. Once the pair had returned to the house, Carina was just exiting the laboratory. Petunia greeted her with excited tail wags and soft barks, making her giggle.

Luke leaned against the doorway, his lips curving into a softer smile as he watched the two loves of his long life.

“I see you staring, Hemmings. I’d like my greeting now.” Her eyes met his and Luke didn’t hesitate as he shut the door and swept her into his arms, his lips met hers. Her arms wound around his neck as he placed her back on her feet, holding him close to her.

“One would say you missed me.” He teased her playfully as her lips met his once more and she could only grumble as he pulled away.

“It’s been a long few days thanks to your trip. Allow me to indulge in my feelings that I actually missed your fanged ass.”

A burst of laughter escaped his lips as he pulled her towards the kitchen.

“Well this fanged ass is cooking tonight. What would you like for food, sweet thing?”

He was met with a beaming smile as she sat on the bar stool, her elbow resting on the countertop so that she could rest her head in her hand.

“Surprise me, mi amor. I’ve missed your cooking and insistence that I eat.”

The evening flew by quicker than he liked, finally the two of them allowing to reaffirm their connection. Just the sounds that she made beneath him, he wanted to imprint it within his mind, remind him of these moments when they weren’t together.

They lay in the king sized bed, her head resting on his chest as his fingers carded themselves through her hair. He always marvelled that she was his opposite in many ways. Jet black hair compared to his blonde curls. Dark brown eyes that contrasted with his baby blues, eyes that he knew he could lose himself within for hours if she let him. Her tanned skin, sun kissed from the years they spent in the sunnier climates compared to his pale skin. She was a beauty in his eyes and he was hers.

“Do you ever think about the lost opportunity of children, mi amor?” Her question had caught him off guard and he turned his head down to see her looking up at him, curious brown eyes studying his face.

“Sometimes,” he admitted quietly, “I think about what could have been, what we could be if we wanted. But having children was never right for either of us. I knew that then and know it now. As much as we could make great parents to a teenager who craves attention, we would be useless with an infant. And then there’s the whole secrecy issue.” This made Carina smile slightly as she nodded, her lips pressing against his chest.

“I consider what could be, and realise how lucky I am to have you and Petunia. Perhaps one day we could look into which would mix all supernaturals together, rather than keeping them within their own species.” He gave her a small smile.

“If it would give us the title of parents, I wouldn’t be averse to it. But for now sweet thing, you need a rest. You’ve got your big meeting tomorrow.”

Something shifted in the night, it was three am, past the witching hour and certainly past whatever time would be considered good to break into a home.

But that was what concerned Luke. Carina had made their home unplottable. Humans did not know it existed and other supernatural creatures would have difficulty reaching them.

And then the most haunting sound burned his ears.

Immediately he moved to waked Carina up, but he was trapped, his eyes wide in horror as he watched four sirens break into their room.

His mind was screaming at them, but the words were trapped behind locked lips. He recognised the bright blonde hair easily.

Sorrel smirked as she sauntered across the room, the other three yanking Carina away from him, her screams echoing through his mind, the sound locking itself in there as he desperately tried to move.

“Make her watch.” His eyes flickered to the ground of four, his mate forced into her knees, head held in his direction. He could feel her fear echoing through their bond as well as her anger.

The anger turned to panic as Sorrel straddled Luke’s waist and a growl built up in this throat as he felt the sirens lips trail up his chest.

Everything about her touch was wrong. It revolted every cell of his body but he couldn’t move.

“As fun as it would to break the bond like this, to fuck a vampire and see if they really do break furniture and bones with their stamina, the mistress wants her alive. We promise not to break her too much, little vampire.” And then they were gone.

It was hours later that the sirens magic wore off and Luke twisted off the bed so violently, his body rejecting the remnants of the dinner as his body tried to rid himself of the sirens unwanted touch.

Then he realised what had transpired and the panic set in before the anger overtook.

He knew he would never be able to track her, they were too good at masking scents and magic. So with a hurried apology to the dog, promising that he’d find Carina, he was almost glad that the pup wouldn’t need to be looked after. The house was sentient enough and she didn’t need food to survive. Her life was tied to his and Carina’s.

His first trip was to the vampire council, his eyes half wild as he was greeted into the meeting. The eight vampires in attendance eyes him warily, he was known for his control.

To come in looking so wild and careless, it had them concerned.

“Mister Hemmings, What brings you to the High Council?” He could see the cool look from the elder and knew he needed to calm down. They wouldn’t listen otherwise.

“The sirens.” The words were stated simply, but four of the eight flinched. He realised that he wasn’t the only one who’d had a run in with the sirens

“What about the beasts?”

“They took my mate hours ago.” This earned him looks of sympathy. He hated them.

“Do you have everything prepared if she were to pass? You know you won’t survive long without her.” And the bubbling anger that Luke had been holding back, exploded.

“What? Will you do nothing for my mate? The very mate who made it possible for us to live amongst humans, and to have kept our secret?” He snapped and was met with frowns.

“We cannot risk the lives of our own for the life of a witch.”

Luke was gone from the room before they’d even finished the sentence.

He knew that the elders had issues with his mate being a witch. He remembered the time when a wolf was bound to a vampire, both councils exiled them. Luke has never agreed to that decision. Especially after meeting his own mate.

He was just lucky the witches understood. They understood that Carina was his just as much as he was hers. They had even blessed their union so many years ago.

He knew where he needed to go next.

His journey to the witches council was more exhausting. Even though he didn’t need to sleep, he’d neglected to feed, his desperation overcoming the hunger.

When he greeted the High Council of witches, the concern they shared, to see a vampire look so broke in front of them, it hit him hard.

Falling to his knees, his hunger warring with his desperation, but desperation won out.

“Luke?” His head snapped up and Jade recoiled from the dead look in his eyes. He didn’t care how he presented to others now.

He could feel her anxiety rise and his own was fighting to stay in control.

“Sirens. They took Carina.” The witches Council were in uproar.

“Luke, have you fed?” Jade’s concerned eyes watched as he zoned out, his head snapping towards her when she spoke his name.

“Uh, no?” His confusion and then he felt the anxiety turn into full blown panic and before he could do much else he was knocked out.

When his eyes peeled back, he felt full but exhausted. Jade was sat on the coffee table and that was when he registered that he was laying on the couch.

“We managed to get some blood in you. One of the priestesses is procuring a live feed.” His gut churned and Jade gave him a twisted smile.

“It’ll be someone who deserves to die. Don’t worry.” And she laughed as his shoulders relaxed.

It was easier to focus once he’d fed, his body relaxing as he sat with the witches High Council once more.

“What about the vampire High Council?” Terra queried as the other witches shared looks. Luke scoffed.

“They told me to be prepared for when she dies. They’re not willing to help a witch.”

Uproar.

“Fucking old timers.” Jade snapped as she glanced to her sisters before standing up. Luke met her gaze evenily, resisting the anxiety that was bubbling once more.

“I will personally go with you to every High Council. They have to listen to a representative and a mate.” And he felt relief flooding him. He hoped that it was enough to stave off Carina’s anxiety, even just for a moment.

Having Jade with him, Luke fed more often, keeping himself and his emotions under control as they met with the various High Councils.

When they reached the High Council of wolves, Luke was exhausted and his emotions were close to snapping. This was the last thing he needed, especially with him going into what was considered enemy territory.

He waited by the treaty line, hands stuffed in his pockets as he waited. It was moments as Jade seemingly appeared out of nowhere. He didn’t jump.

“They’ve agreed to see you.” Was all she said before gripping his shoulder and he swore as he felt the uncomfortable sensation of the apparition.

“God dammit woman, warn me before you do that.” He snapped, pulling his arm from her grip. She gave him an apologetic look in return.

“She did that of our request, leech. We didn’t want the others panicking because there’s a vampire walking around.” Luke froze and fought every instinct to snarl at the council. But he composed himself.

“That can be forgiven, but still some warning would have been nice.” He ground out, earning curious looks from the other wolves.

“Why do you want audience with us, vampire?”

“The sirens took my mate. I’ve been travelling to ask for help but also support when I say they need to be wiped out.” This caught the wolves attention.

“We would be willing to support you when you put forward the motion for them to be destroyed. But we cannot grant you the help that you seek.”

Luke fought down the anger. He knew that it was going to happen, every other council had denied their own help.

“Thank you for your time. Jade?” She didn’t need to be told twice as the apparition surrounded them once more and once they were by the treaty line.

“Luke?”

“I’m not giving up. I’ll go to the sirens myself.” He muttered and she watched as he stepped away from her. She moved to step with him, but the look he gave her, froze her in her tracks.

“Let me help.” She whispered and he shook his head.

“I need someone who knows where I’m going. If you don’t hear from me, you know that either I’ve died or they’ve got me. They won’t kill me until they get what they want from Carina.” Jade could feel the goosebumps on her arms as Luke continued to walk away from her.

“Make the councils aware. I want those sirens dead.”

His head was pounding as he pulled himself up from the slumped position.

His eyes turned to the siren who was pushing herself from the floor, her eyes wide and terrified.

“What the fuck was that?” Luke snapped, the anxiety rising in his chest and he registered that it wasn’t his own.

Carina was still alive.

“That was my wake up call.” The blonde demon groaned and Ashton’s head snapped to the other demon.

“Calum?”

The demon that Ashton had named Calum, turned his head towards Luke, ignoring the other demon.

“You said you went to every council?”

“Yeah, almost every council agreed. The only one that didn’t was the vampire council, mostly because I never asked of them.” Luke lifted his shoulders into a shrug and felt the siren work her magic as the song picked up again.

“Good, because they think they can break me, but they don’t know me.” And to the shock of the siren, he stood up, his hands free of the binds.

Magic seemed to surround him as his eyes fell shut and Luke felt the power radiating off the blonde demon and he felt every bind snap, Carina’s emotions hitting him full force and rendering him breathless.

He watched as Ashton’s eyes widened as they met the sirens and Michael smirked.

“These sirens chose the wrong creatures to break. I’m going to make them pay and when I’m through with them, the mere memory of them will be tainted enough for people to forget.

And as the siren helped them from the water pit, once her hands touched Ashton’s, she was sold on helping the four of them.

“I’ll show you the secret passages. I can’t let them live after this.”

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lokispettigerr · 5 years

Text

Devil In Disguise Part 3: Loki x Female Reader! She-Devil SMUT (NSFW)

Summary: Loki has a mysterious new partner to work with. He is told to meet her at a small bar outside of town and is surprised in what he discovers and finds himself torn with the deal that he may have to make and the manner in which it is made *wink*.

Word Count: 5891

Warnings: Non-Con

A/N: Part 1 and Part 2 on the MASTERLIST located in my bio. Yeah Thranduil might pop in with another name. He pretty to me lol. ***I will post a one shot next week to take a short break from this fic.

Taglist: in reblog

The She-Devil being one for surprises and anticipation had asked Loki, in the spirit of the upcoming masquerade, to get ready separately and arrive separately.

The She-Devil clapped her hands excitedly, “It’ll be such fun, Silvertongue!” “How will not knowing where you are be fun?” Loki asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“Oh, don’t be a spoilsport. Besides, we have imprinted, I want to see if you know me when you no longer recognize me.” The she devil approached Loki.

She leaned forward, grabbing him behind the neck to draw his ear to her lips “When all you have to identify me is by my voice…” “Or my touch,” she slid her tongue down the side of his neck, “My lips on yours…” She planted a soft kiss on Loki’s lips, and when she withdrew she sucked on Loki’s bottom lip forcing him to smile.

“Very well. You have convinced me, Demon Woman.” Loki leaned into her as she pulled away from the kiss. She giggled, pressing her hands against his chest, “It’s what I do best!” “Now, my Prince, if you will be so kind as to get the Hel out, go home and get ready for this evening! I will see you there.” She winked at Loki, the ever present glimmer of mischief in her dazzling eyes. Loki wrapped his long fingers around the delicate bones of her wrist, pulling her with him as he passed through the threshold of the office door, ready to devour her, “Oh, but how I will miss being with you, watching you undress for me here and prance around in the front of the mirror while you get ready.” She quirked an eyebrow, challenging him, “If you had your way you wouldn’t let me dress. We would never make it there. You can undress me after though.” The she-devil gave one final push against his chest, then ran her small hand down his hard abdomen, over his belt buckle to his erect length confined within his pants. She rubbed him there, taking a sharp inhale through her teeth, breathing in his arousal “Now go, before I reconsider and beg you to take me!” Loki chuckled at her, his cock jumping against her soft, needy palm, and stole one last kiss from her lips, before he walked away. “And don’t be late Trickster!” she called out after him, rubbing her lips where his cool kiss still lingered. Her hip rested against the threshold of the door as she smiled in a daze, twirling a lock of her hair. She was smitten like a helkitten. ***

The full moon acted as a glowing beacon for Loki as he approached the side door of “Club Mayhem”. He looked up at it, his already silver complexion being bathed in the radiant glow.

There had been a recent downpour from the hot air mixing with a cool wind and he could smell the fresh fallen rain on the pavement. With ease he strode over a large puddle, his reflection passing through it like the shadow of death or the grim reaper. He had chosen to wear his all black outfit. His she-devil had yet to see him in it and he was looking forward to seeing her reaction. Loki had even decided to slick back his hair which made him look ever more the predator than usual. Before reaching the side door of the club, he tugged down his black, half-mask to cover his face. It was smooth and resembled that of the terrifying visage of a black panther. He knew his Demon Woman would enjoy it. Once, upon his recollection, the she-devil had told him, while they were wrapped up in one another, naked, after a hard fuck that he looked much like a black panther that lay in wait behind the tall sea of grass--waiting to pounce on some poor lowly creature of prey. He had turned to her, the green satin sheet that had covered the bed falling away to expose his alabaster skin. “How do you mean?” He asked as he propped his head up with his hand. “Well, you just have that ever so hungry look in your eyes.” Her hand trailed up to cup his jaw and her thumb rubbed his cheek. There was a sudden distant look that came into her eyes while she looked at him, “You know, when I was a girl, Daddy, in order to teach me a lesson of obedience threw me into the pit of the helcats. He had starved them for days before, so they would be aggressive and hungry. I put up the fight of my life, just a small girl then. I had more than 5 guards drag me to the entrance of the pit. Finally, my father ordered the gates open and instructed the guards to throw me within.” She had continued stroking his cheek, though her lip was quivering, her voice a satiny hush that wrapped around him and threatened to pull him with her. “Many of the guards had known me since I was a babe in the belly of my mother. They’d raised me, protected me, and taught me as if I was one of their own.” She sniffed, “They knew the wrath of my father was unforgiving and though tears streamed down my cheeks they threw me in with the helcats nonetheless. “Many of them apologized,” she chuckled, deepening her voice to mimic a male guards, “So sorry, my Princess. Forgive me, my Princess.”

“When I was sure Daddy wasn’t coming back for me, I dried up my tears. I had to let go of the sadness and loneliness and fear that I felt. The helcats sensed weakness. Any sign of weakness and they were likely to pounce and make a meal of me.” Her voice had broken while she was telling the story and she had to pause to keep from sobbing. Loki moved to pull her to his chest but she brushed his hand away, “No, please. Let me finish. Well, I-I didn’t last long, Daddy saw to that when he had starved those poor beasts. Mind you, they didn’t take to kindness or affection either. They, like the helhounds were used to separate souls from bodies, ripping and wrenching them from their flesh to be dragged down to the pits of Helheim. I’ll spare you the gorey details, but I did everything I thought I could. I mean I ran, I stood my ground, I played dead. Nothing worked.” The Princess looked down, tears coating her long lashes. Loki had thought they looked more appropriate on a doe than on the strong she-devil. “So what happened then?” Loki asked her in no more than a whisper. “Daddy came along, a torch flame burning from his right hand.” Loki wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I remember very vividly being in the dark with the helcats and seeing a light chasing away the shadows. I remember thinking, my savior had finally come. It didn’t matter at that point I just needed my wounds tended to, professionally, really.” The she-devil laughed to herself. “Daddy didn’t expect to find me in the state I was in. I was badly wounded, bleeding out. Probably would have died within an hour. The wounds were much to bad for me to heal on my own, even with my accelerated healing abilities. The venom that drips from the fangs of the helcats is very potent.” She sat up, in front of Loki, the sheets falling to expose her beautiful body, her breasts, her cloven womanhood, and several, giant silver-colored scars here and there. “Daddy found them surrounding me, licking my wounds, laying next to me to keep my warm. You see, he didn’t expect me to become friends with them, it was something that had never happened. Not once has anyone tamed the wild, ferocious soul of a helcat.” “Until you,” Loki observed. “Until me,” she agreed, “You see, the alpha helcat, a Queen, must have sensed something in me. Her conscious energy prodded my own and saw me for who I am I ‘spose. I dunno, something about me anyway made her make all of them stop tearing my skin to pieces. She fought them to force them to stop.” She looked at Loki a smile rising on her red lips. “Funny, you’ll like this, the helcat Queen, her name was ‘Fidelus’. She was named after my mother. Interestingly, she was born the same day my mother died.” Her eyes twinkled as she left her memories. “Loki,” she whispered his name, “there is just something about you, that reminds me of something in those cats. Wild, catastrophic, ferocious, volatile, yet in some strange harmony with my very being. A beast or a monster to the masses that somehow understood me so completely it saw me for, well, me.” Loki was stunned that night, he didn’t know what to say for what seemed like the first time in his life, instead, he had planted a kiss on her full lips.

And now, here he was on the prowl, hunting for his Demon Woman. He couldn’t wait to see the joy on her face when she saw what he had dressed up as. Loki stood in front of the basement door. It was metal, and when he knocked a loud, metallic bang clamored in his ears. After a moment an intercom system near the doorknob beeped, “Name?” the voice on the other end called out. “Loki Laufeyson,” Loki called out as he leaned close to the intercom system. Another moment passed, “You aren’t on the list, maybe try the club down the block.” Loki blinked. He knew he was at the right club, he had made sure of it… A thought came into his head and he cleared his throat, rolling his eyes as he pressed the button next to the intercom system, “Name?” the voice called out again. “Silvertongue,” Loki sighed. The door locks clicked, in succession. Leave it to her to put his “pet name” on the list. Loki grumbled under his breath as he rushed into the basement entryway. Though no one was around to hear it sounded something like, “Choke her...probably like...though.” *** Loki walked up the basement steps, taking two at a time with ease. He tapped four times, as instructed on the door to the cellar, and it opened slowly. As he exited the cellar he pulled on his black suit and smoothed down his jet, gleaming hair. The club was extravagant. Most of the masquerade decor seemed to be in some sort of paradise scene. There was fog lurking about, trickling across the floor from a machine that blew out billowy smoke that made it look like the whole club was in a cloud. There were white and silver light streamers hanging from the ceiling, snaking down towards the party guest, and there were lights spread throughout the crowd- tall lights that shot up into the cloudy room looking like still search lights. It gave the club an eerie, yet beautiful glow. Loki could feel a hum in the air, a vibration that he had quickly become accustomed to as a signal that his mate was nearby. He had no idea how he would find her. The party-goers were everywhere, clinking glasses filled with golden bubbly drink, laughing boisterously, and swaying to a song. In the crowd, servers darted in and out carrying trays of food, tiny quiches and cakes lined their trays. There were large, wall to floor sheer fabric like curtains hanging from the ceiling and lining the walls of the club. Loki was astounded to find that upon his inspection, the theme of the decor was “heaven”-- because of course Christian myths dominated this Midgardian culture. How peculiar it was to have the Princess of Hel, a She-Devil at that, stalking the crowd for a lost soul to claim and take back to her home realm. Loki chuckled to himself at the irony and began to push through the party-goers on his hunt for the she-devil. She wasn’t one to ever make things easy, and he sensed that she liked the chase--a good game of cat and mouse. Of course, she liked to fool others into thinking she was the mouse, initially, but soon the tables would turn and she would become the predator. She was good at games, at tricks-- just like Loki. She had even once told him, one of the first nights that they were together, that she would rather be the hunter than the prey, every time-- and yet, here she was making herself hard to find. Loki didn’t mind though, if he was being honest with himself, he would admit that he too liked the game of chase.

Loki stopped in the crowd of bodies, he needed to use his senses to find his She-Devil and right now everything was blasting through. He felt as if he was spinning from all of the stimuli. And there, something, over there. He reached out with his thoughts to caress the mind of the one he felt. It was unmistakably her, but there was something else with it, wrapping around it, seemingly mingling with her unspeakably strong energy. Loki turned to search from where he had just come and found her. She had climbed the winding stairs to rest at the top of a balcony overlooking the partygoers. Watching her made Loki feel like he could no longer catch his breath. All his blood rushed loudly within him and his groin filled with the familiar tingling sensation.

She wore the most beautiful dress. The fabric was in a sense sheer and the color of it was an off white. There were red, orange and yellow sequins throughout-- especially covering her bosoms and her womanhood. It made it look likes flames were licking up the fabric of the dress and that his mate was in truth, on fire. When she moved this way and that the flames flickered maddeningly, drawing the attention of the people around her. And when she turned to talk with someone who had approached her from behind he could see that the back of the dress had a long train with the same sequined flames leaping up it-- making it look like as she walked she created some sort of path of destruction that she left in her wake. She created a fire that enraptured the world and ground beneath her feet. Her hair was loose and spiraled down her bare back in an elegant way that much was like the flames of her dress-- at times it seemed to have a life of it’s own-- it was wild in a mysterious way, a long mane of grace. She was temptation in its purest form. Instead of a mask, she wore a white cloth around her eyes-- lace it appeared to be. Loki wondered why this was, but perhaps, most interesting was that she allowed her own horns to protrude crudely from her terrible, yet magnetic visage. Because everyone was in costume, her horns were not out of the ordinary. Loki again was reminded of the Christian myths he had studied as a young boy and thought about how the devil came to be. He was cast out from heaven, an angel at one time. His name- “The Morning Star”, and now Loki’s mate looked as if she was the devil, she was indeed a star. She was his star that had come crashing down from the multiverse. Though she was horrifying to behold everyone seemed to be drawn around her like a group of wild animals that had stumbled upon a dangerous bonfire that they couldn’t help but be curious about. Wild animals that didn’t know the true destruction the bonfire could easily bring them if they wind blew it out of its healthy confinement. Loki thought how helpful and useful a contained fire could be but how destructive and catastrophic it always had the potential to become. Even the smallest flicker of a candle flame could bring down an entire forest and mortals were helpless to even put an end to it.

A smile came to Loki’s lips as he watched his She-Devil mate, taking in her excellence. However, someone moved in front of her, blocking her from Loki’s view and his lips quickly forsook the smile.

The man who stood before her had long, silvery white hair. He was fair skinned with darker eyebrows and piercing blue eyes. He grabbed her arm to pull her closer to his lips so he could whisper in her ear and Loki watched as she patted the strange man with one arm as she laughed musically at whatever the stranger had just told her. Even Loki was able to admit when a man was fairly attractive and as far as mortals went this man was divine. His nose was sharp, almost cruely so and his chin was pointed with slyness. He seemed rather clever, though not a match for Loki himself. He glowed in the lowlit light of the club as if his skin was giving off some radiant silver aura which was battling or even attempting to court the flaming aura of his own mate.

Something about the man’s actions sent a shock of anger through Loki. The man seemed possessive over Loki’s Demon Woman. They acted very familiar with one another and Loki could sense black jealousy within himself. Though his She-Devil seemed to act fondly towards the man it almost seemed as if there was a hint of urgency or even danger underneath the emotions that she wore. Loki felt that he needed to be by her side immediately in case this odd stranger would decide at any moment to attack her, but Loki knew deep down that his She-Devil could fend off her enemies easily. Yet why was it that she seemed to give off a sense of caution? Was she possibly excited instead of frightened? Or was she perhaps, afraid of how the man made her feel?

Loki stalked forward in hopes to walk between the two. The man was awfully close to his mate and this was something he would not stand for. His She-Devil mate’s mouth dropped when she spotted him, she was speechless. He knew that she instantly recognized what he had dressed as for her. Her face lit up and she flashed a mega-watt smile ecstatic to see her God of Mischief.

“Oh, good! It’s my Silvertongued Prince!” his mate exclaimed excitedly. “I have been so lonesome without you by my side, Gabriel sought me out in this crowd to keep me company.” her arm wrapped around Loki’s and her fingers tightly squeezed his bicep as if indicating some information to him that he was not privy to as of yet.

“Loki, is it?” Gabriel asked holding out his slender, glowing hand for Loki to take. His voice was like muted velvet, full of lies, “Our Princess has told me so much about you.” Loki shuddered at Gabriel’s mention of “Our Princess”. She was Loki’s alone. Loki glanced down at the hand that Gabriel held forth with a taste of disdain on his face, “A pleasure,” he said clipped, pulling his She-Devil closer to him while he towered over her protectively. He looked at the surrounding crowd, showing Gabriel that he had no interest in getting to know him.

It was unusual that the Demon Woman appeared uncomfortable, yet now with the two men before her Loki could tell that she was out of sorts.

“Gabriel!” the She-Devil called out over the crowd and the thumping music, “would you be so kind as to get myself and Loki some of that delicious vodka you introduced me to earlier?” Gabriel replied with a nod, “Of course my dearest, anything for you.” he threw daggers with his eyes at Loki and bent forward to place a kiss on the She-Devil’s cheek possessively. Loki could have called forth his Jotun form, red eyes glowing while he ripped the man limb from limb and tore at his throat with his teeth. Instead, he smiled kindly, nodding as Gabriel left in search of the drinks.

“Loki…” his She-Devil whispered, “must you act to territorial? I wanted to yell at you both to put your damn swords away!” she hissed. “I don’t like him.” For a moment the She-Devil was speechless, “Ah, well, so what? Did I ask you? Gabriel is the acolyte I mentioned this morning. The one who so helpfully kept tabs on our lost soul. He does it all for me. Must you act like an animal in heat?”

“Yes!” Loki spat. “Ugh! You...Sometimes I just want to push you and knock some sense into you, for Hel’s sake, Loki!”

“I could easily do the same to you this very moment!” Loki’s eyes flashed at her in the dim light of the club, displaying hostility and something else-- a kind of sexual hunger and desperation. “Whatever!” she barked back at Loki, “I don’t want to discuss this now, our soul is nearby.” Loki didn’t want to let this go, but he had a job to do, there was a reason he was here and he could not forsake that. “Where is the one we hunt?”

The She-Devil reached up to grab Loki by the should of his black suit, setting his body up so he could easily spot the lost soul. “There, under the alcove, do you see? He’s talking to someone wearing a muzzle around their mouth.”

“You’re sure?” Loki asked, searching his mate’s face for the answer as she nodded.

“When Gabriel comes back we can chat strategy. Ah, here he is, speak of the Devil.” Gabriel handed them both glasses of vodka, “Try it Loki! It is something exquisite!”

“As are you, Princess,” Gabriel purred as he reached out to rub her bare arm. Loki’s fist clenched in response, *how dare this man be so blatant with his disrespect!*

“Oh Gabriel, Stop!” she laughed, “We have work to do.” “Yes, it would seem that you need to focus your attention on the job at hand.” Loki growled.

“Gabriel,” the Demon Woman interrupted, “Bring the mortal to the suite on the third floor, lure him in some way, you’re good at that. There Loki and myself will wait. Once you arrive with the soul, Loki and I will handle the rest. We will meet you there, alright Gabriel?” “Of course, Princess.” Gabriel said before he made his way towards the soul. “Loki,” the She-Devil addressed him, “come with me.” She reached for his hand and Loki let her lead him to the suite to await their victim. “Loki, because the soul broke a deal with me I have to reforge a new one to make sure they are locked within this one. It cannot be broken. Will you be able to remain calm?”

“I beg your pardon?” Loki asked, “you don’t mean you have to fuck this bargain breaker…” “Loki, you know I do.” she tried to comfort him with a kiss on his lips, but he turned from her. “Remember, it means nothing. I have to make this deal, this is the only way I can get this soul where it belongs, in the hands of my father.” “And what of me? Why am I even here, it doesn’t seem that I am of much use for you!” Loki growled at her with such force that she flinched, pulling away from him. “No, I need you. I always need you.”

“You do not! You are entirely capable of taking care of yourself!”

She huffed with desperation and frustration, “Are you coming or what?”

Loki followed her, though he was seething with rage, this would be the second time he would see her in the midst of making a deal, but this time it wouldn’t be with him. He didn’t want to watch this. Would Gabriel watch as well? Gabriel!... Loki’s teeth clenched at the thought of Gabriel seeing his mate in all her splendid glory, unclothed, without her glamour before them.

“Please,” she turned to him, before opening the door to the empty suite, “Behave. We can’t have this going awry.”

“Fine,” Loki mumbled under his breath, full of reluctance.

“Gabriel works quickly, he should be here any second now,” she said, trailing off. “Would you like to take a seat?” “No.” She muttered something under her breath.

Finally, the door rattled, and in barged Gabriel with his lips pressed against the mouth of their prey who mumbled and fumbled at the strings holding Gabriel’s clothing closed. They stumbled into the room, and Gabriel pulled back. “My Princess, here he is.”

The prey looked around, confusedly for a moment-- either from the effect of Gabriel or the situation. When his eyes fell on the Princess of Hel he tried to back away, but Loki was now standing between him and the door with a wicked, frightening grin on his face. The prey turned from Loki, feeling his murderous vibes. “No, no, no,” he whispered turning back to the Princess of Hel, “Please, I’m sorry, I beg of you, I don’t want to die!” He fell to his knees, crawling on the ground towards her.

“You grovel for your life in front of the Princess of Hel?” Gabriel spat disgusted, “And to think I had to kiss you.” He wiped his lips with his fist. “You broke our deal.” The She-Devil spoke in a hushed tone, her voice was sinister yet soothing, “Your soul belongs to me and to my father as well.” She looked down at him, kneeling on the carpet of the suite. “Please, let me go, I swear, I just. Not yet, Princess.” She knelt to his level, pulling his face up to look at her, “You know I can’t,” she crooned, “If it isn’t me it might be the helcats or the helhounds, and we wouldn’t want that. They will be much worse than me. Wouldn't you rather go out feeling pleasure than pain?” She reached up to slip the shoulder straps off her shoulders one at a time, the bodice of the dress fell to expose the brilliant scar covered skin of her bosoms. The prey was speechless, his eyes darted between her breasts covetously. His hand reached out to give them both a good fondle, but she batted them away, “Ah, ah, ah, not until you pledge your soul to me…” Without hesitation he replied, “I pledge my soul to you, I will bargain it to you. Just please, I need to feel you again.” “Very well,” she chuckled, glancing at Loki as she rose to her full height, pulling the prey along with her. Her eyes remained locked with Loki’s as the prey began to plant sloppy, hungry kisses on each breasts. His wet tongue darted out to tickle and pluck at each pink nipple. When her breasts filled his lips he suckled on it, moaning deeply, as if he was trying to get milk to come forth. She giggled, “Gentle now.” Her hand went to the soul's hair to grab at it, and her eyes would drift closed from time to time as the prey’s tongue would glide over her sensitive, erect nipples.

He stopped suckling and licking to look up at her, his neck still craned towards her breasts. “Please, Princess, can I please?” He begged. She nodded in answer and he wrenched the dress from around her curving hips, it fluttered to the floor and she stepped out of it. “Lay down, now,” she ordered and the prey did as she bid.

She set herself upon him then, easily taking his erect, jumping manhood inside of her. When he parted her lips with his length she sighed, contentedly. Her eyes rolled as she felt pleasure of the flesh ignite within her. She looked back towards Loki a sadistic smile on her full lips. Loki’s blood was boiling and he looked away from her, he didn’t want to watch the scene that was unfolding before him like an unwanted disease of the mind. He knew if he watched her ride this prey animal that the sight would be trapped in his mind, incurable forever.

As he looked away he saw Gabriel sitting in a chair, looking entirely seduced by his mate. Loki had had *enough*! Of course, he would allow her to finish what must be done, he had promised, but he had cleverly chosen his words. He made no mention of behaving or acting civil towards the voyeurist upon the chair. He walked towards him, his feet beating against the ground angrily. His hands reached down to grib Gabriel’s collar and easily lifted him to his feet. “Get out.” he hissed venomously-- a clear warning. “You do not belong here! She does not belong to you! Look at her with this perversity again and I shall pluck the eyes from your face.” Loki dragged Gabriel towards the door, opened it and threw Gabriel without, turning back and slamming the door making the metal threshold shake and leaving Gabriel without a chance to respond.

When Loki turned back towards his She-Devil he saw that she was just finishing up, quick enough, but what mortal could last long with a succubus such as her? She had transformed into her true, monstrous, seductive form and was sucking the blood from the man’s neck when Loki stalked over, to her, pushing her aside. His Jotun form was screaming to be acknowledged and without care he allowed the blue tint to rise on his skin, his eyes glowed feverishly with the fury pumping within his veins.

“Hope you enjoyed it!” he spat, “touching her was the last thing you ever did!” and his hand brought forth a long, dagger made of ice. He slit the prey’s throat with it. “Now,” he turned, his rage overtaking him, “I will deal with you, Demon Woman!” Again, she smiled, but this time with a masochistic edge, she wanted Loki to punish her! “You vile, evil woman!” he growled at her, “you are mine and mine alone, I will destroy that soaking pussy of yours until you plead for mercy, yet I won’t stop! My seed will gush forth into your womb! I want your flat, taught belly to be full of my hot seed! You are mine, I claim you! No one else can have you! All mine!” His teeth clenched together and his muscles trembled with adrenaline, his cock jumped at the thought of pumping all of his cum within her belly.

“Loki, Loki, wait” her hand went forth pressing against his unforgiving abdomen. “It is too late for that, Demon Woman!” Loki was truly savage, he was possessed!

“Stop, please I can--” but before she could finish Loki’s cock pushed through her soaking, wet lips, plunging into the weeping cave of her womanhood. “Ah!” she sighed with both pleasure and pain. He filled her up with ease. “Mine!” he barked back at her as he humped her, his hips sliding his cock between her folds, the head of his dick rammed into her walls, to the end of her. His head fell down as he panted heavily from the adrenaline coursing through his Jotun form and claimed her breasts with his own cool tongue. She hissed against the harsh, unforgiving temperature. “Mine,” he mumbled his mouth full of her nipple and he tested it, biting at it between his sharp teeth causing a deep penetrating sensation to ache through it in an erotic way. The She-Devil’s horns were still upon her brow and when she tried to buck against Loki his hand went up to hold her down by her horns. “Stop, Loki! Please!” she cried out, flinching from the pain he was inflicting upon her soft inner flesh. “Mine!” he rumbled. She moaned as he shoved his long length against her cervix and his hand quickly went to her lips, he held her mouth shut as he whispered in her ear. “I will possess you body and soul, I will tear your walls in two if you do not submit to your Master. This pussy belongs to me! You gush for me and my cock will squirt my seed deep into your belly until you are full of it and ache!” She moaned against his palm, excited and aroused by the thought. Shining droplets of sweat began to bead on her chest and on her forehead. “Oh you like that do you, Y/N?” She fervently nodded her head, her hips bucking and coaxing him to release within her.

“Now I want you to be a good girl and clench those pussy muscles for me,” he whispered against her neck. “--Muhhn” she moaned from beneath the palm of his hand. “That’s a good girl for me,” Loki purred. “Now, clench those walls around me and don’t stop until you cum for me.” The She-Devil began to clench her muscles as Loki’s own muscles rippled. With each thrust his core would tighten, his abdomen becoming more defined, and his glutes tightening.

He drew a sharp inhale of breath when she pulled at his cock tightly, “Oh, Norns, Yes.”

The more her velvet walls pulled and gripped around Loki, the closer he came to the edge of orgasm.

But he wasn’t finished with her yet, he needed her to cum for him. The voluntary clenches she gave him were bliss, but the involuntary clenches that happened when she was having a body convulsing orgasm not only pleased him but also felt like nothing he had ever experienced before.

Loki began to move his hips magnetically, so tribally that the flesh above his cock began to grip and rub her satin soft, swollen-with-arousal, clit. With each thrust she would whimper from the pleasure.

Loki commanded her body as if he was her one, true master. An orgasm rose, brewing deep within her hips and finally the dam broke. The orgasm the She-Devil had, made her head tilt back in complete ecstasy. There was a loud hum in her ears and neurons causing a trail of fire to shoot from her groin to the top of her head.

Like Loki had expected, her walls clenched, harder, faster around him, unable to stop, without consent or control and Loki followed her. His hot cum gushed from the weeping head of his length, and he thrust his hips forward ramming the head of his cock into her cervix. He wanted every last drop to enter her. He was overcome with desire to fill her belly full of his cum and once he was finished squirting his seed in her he grabbed her beneath her shoulders and sat up with her cradled against his chest.

They sat there, her on his lap exhausted and him breathing in her spicy scent. Their own bond and bargain was unbreakable. Together they would be unstoppable.

No one could break them apart. Not Odin, not Gabriel, not a soul in the nine realms. Loki was convinced, yet he still couldn't shake the dream that he had just had. What did it really mean and why did he continue to have such a dream? No matter the reason, he would never let go of his She-Devil mate.

Gabriel is gorgeous truly. Loki is right about that!

Thank you all again for being so patient with me and supportive! Please ne so kind as to warm my heart with some exciting feedback and a reblog. ***If you would like to be on the taglist for this fic or a future fic please send me an ask. Peace, Loki’s Pet Tiger

#loki fanfic #loki #loki marvel #imagine loki #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfic #loki fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfiction #Loki mcu #loki x you #loki lemons #loki smut #loki fluff #loki x reader #smut #fluff #tom hiddleston loki #tom hiddleston imagine

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pocket-luv101 · 5 years

Text

Across Time || Chapter 1

Fandom: Servamp Ships: KuroMahi (main), LawLicht (side) Characters: Kuro, Mahiru, Hyde, Licht

Summary: Mahiru falls into a well and is taken to a new, fantasy world. He comes across a half-blooded cat demon trapped in a tree. After he frees Kuro, he helps him collect the shards of the sacred jewel. (KuroMahi, InuYasha AU)

A/N: For this InuYasha AU, I wanted to take out the many love triangles (I never liked the trope). So, Kikyo, Kouga, and Hojo/Akitoki won’t be playing a role in this fanfic. I will also be trimming down the filler the best I can.

(Ch.1) || Ch.2 ||

The Thousand Year Old Tree was the first thing Mahiru would see whenever he walk out of his home. He didn’t know why but he was drawn to it ever since he was a boy. There was a mark on the tree trunk and it looked like a diamond was embedded in the wood. He turned his focus back to his morning chores. He hummed softly as he swept the leaves on the shrine’s ground.

His uncle was the shrine’s caretaker and Mahiru started living with him after his mother died. He respected his uncle and thought of him as the father he never had. He would help him around the shrine even after he moved out. A white cat ran past him and scattered the leaves he was sweeping into the air. Several kids followed the cat and chased it around the tree.

“Please, boys, be careful. You shouldn’t play here because it’s disrespectful to the spirits who made their homes here.” Mahiru stepped forward to stop them before they could damage the tree. He gave them a light lecture before he patted their heads. “I remember when I was your age. I was full of energy too but we need to channel it properly. You boys can play by the gate over there.”

“What about our cat?” The boy pointed to their pet. While he was giving the lecture to the boys, the cat had wandered to a nearby shrine. It jumped up and grab a braided cord charm. Mahiru gasped when he saw how its claws turn the cord to strings. The cat managed to use the cord to climb to the opened window and jump inside.

“I’ll get him.” Mahiru told them and ran after the cat. He picked up the remains of the charm: a bell hanging on a string. Then, he slid open the door and peered inside. His uncle’s many warnings to never enter the small building echoed his mind. He didn’t see anything dangerous though. There was a flight of steps that led down a pit. At the bottom stood a simple well.

It was dark inside but Mahiru could hear claws scratching against wood. He walked down the stairs and each step made his feet feel heavier. Mahiru didn’t know why the well suddenly seemed ominous. He told himself he needed to get the cat. It was difficult to see in the dark but he spotted the cat scratching on the wood. “There you are, you little troublemaker. Come here.”

He picked up the cat and cradled it against his chest. Mahiru started to walk away with it but a chilling realization made him stop. The scratching sound never stopped but became louder. Slowly, Mahiru turned around and stared at the well. He thought the noise was from inside the well, as if something was trying to break free. It had been sealed for a thousand years so there shouldn’t be anything inside.

“Mahiru!” He jumped at the sound of his name. His uncle was the one who called him and he turned around. There was fear in his eyes as he urgently said, “I told you never to enter here. Come back.”

“I’ll be right there, Uncle Toru.” Even though Mahiru didn’t understand why he would be scared for his safety, he tried to reassure him. The cat in his arms jumped free and it landed on the well’s door. He reached out to pick up the cat again. At the same time, Toru raced down the stairs to stop him. His fingers brushed over the well and the spell tags sealing it started to glow.

The ground began to shake and Mahiru was too confused to react. He quickly grabbed the cat and stepped back from the well. Chunks of wood flew into the air as something broke out of the well. Mahiru gasped at the sight of a giant centipede rushing towards him. He couldn’t escape before the demon grabbed his arm and dragged him down with it.

Mahiru struggled against the centipede the best he could but it had a death grip on his arms. He frantically looked around him for help. His heart sank when he saw that his surroundings had changed to a violet abyss. They were falling slowly and he couldn’t see the ground. The large fangs on the centipede opened and revealed a woman’s face. “I can sense the jewel’s power in you. Give me the sacred jewel.”

“Sacred jewel? I don’t know what you mean. Let me go!” Mahiru screamed and shoved the centipede away from him. He felt a burst of energy flow through him and light burst out of his hands. The centipede winced away from the bright gleam and let him go. They were both blinded and Mahiru closed his eyes. He was almost too afraid to open his eyes again.

He took a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes. To his relief, the strange world he found himself in was gone. Mahiru sat at the bottom of the well. He didn’t know if what he just experienced was from the shock of falling or something else. He stood on his shaky legs and stared upwards. “Uncle Toru! Are you up there? Please throw down a rope so I can climb up.”

No one answered him. His brows furrowed in confusion because he knew his uncle wouldn’t abandon him. He couldn’t wait at the bottom of the well for help. Mahiru cautiously tugged on the vines lining the wall to ensure that they wouldn’t break from his weight. He placed his foot on a protruding rock and started to climb up. As he neared the top, he saw the clear, blue sky above him.

Mahiru exited the well and found himself in a whole new world. A forest surrounded the well instead of the shrine he was in before. He stepped out and looked around him for anything familiar. There was nothing but trees around him and he couldn’t see any sign of human civilization. His eyes fell onto a tall, familiar tree that stood above the others. “The Thousand Year Old Tree!”

He ran towards the only thing he could recognize. Mahiru pushed past the branches and bushes blocking his path. The greenery became sparser as he approached the tree and the sunlight shined over him. He walked out of the bushes and stepped in front of the tree.

A handsome man was sitting against the tree trunk and he appeared to be sleeping. Thick vines circled the man and there was an arrow in his chest. Mahiru didn’t know what happened to the man but it saddened him that he was left for dead. He thought he deserved a proper burial. The man must’ve been stuck to the tree for a long time for vines to grow around him. Yet, the man’s body hadn’t aged.

“Are those cat ears?” Mahiru asked the question even though there was no one around who could answer him. He reached up and lightly touched the ears. They were warm and he moved his hand to the man’s chest. He had a heartbeat. He realized the man was still alive and rushed to save him. “Don’t worry, I’ll take you to a hospital.”

He gripped the arrow to pull it out but he was stopped before he could. Mahiru heard the arrow buzz past him before it struck the wood above his head. He yelped and instinctively ducked his head. He pressed his face into the man’s chest. A strong hand pulled him away from the tree. “Wait, this man is still alive! We need to take him to a hospital and save him.”

Mahiru looked back at the man. For a moment, he was certain he saw the man open his red eyes. Their gaze held until he closed his eyes once again.

“Please, let me go! This is all a big misunderstanding.” Mahiru insisted. The man that had captured him took him to their village. They called him a demon and yelled other confusing accusations. He stiffened when one pointed a spear at him. The weapons they had were as ancient as the buildings around him. It was clear to him that he wasn’t in the world he knew.

“Look at his strange clothes. He must be a foreigner sent here as a spy.” One yelled.

“What if he’s a kitsune?” Another suggested.

“What is going on here?” A loud voice cut through the crowd.

“Uncle Toru?” Mahiru was confused to see his uncle but he was happy to find someone he knew. He ran forward and hugged his uncle. He hoped that his uncle could give him some answers and help him make some sense of the situation he found himself in. “I don’t know how but found myself here after I fell into a nearby well. What is this place?”

“Who are you? I don’t have a nephew.” His heart sank at his words. He took a step back and shook his head lightly. Mahiru looked back at him when Toru placed his hand on his shoulder.

“If it’s true that you fell into the Bone-Eater’s Well, this is your home but not your time. There are spiritual grounds that can connect to different times. The well is one of them.” Toru pointed towards the well he came from. Then, he gestured to the tall tree where he saw the man earlier. “The Ash Tree is another. They have a powerful spiritual energy that can even bend time.”

“Mystical forces brought me back in time? Is there a way to take me back?” Mahiru’s head was spinning. He was still trying to make sense of the situation he found himself in. His stomach rumbled audibly and Toru gave him a sympathetic smile.

“You’ve been through a lot and you must be hungry. You can rest and eat in my home. I will do my best to answer your questions.”

Mahiru sipped the tea Toru poured him. While he looked, sounded and acted like his uncle, the man wasn’t the person he knew. Everything was surreal to him. He told him everything that happened after he fell into the well. Toru nodded solemnly in time with his short story. “Do you know how the well took me back in time? Maybe I can use it to go back home.”

“The deity in the well is benevolent so she wouldn’t take you from your home. That centipede demon you describe shouldn’t have the ability to pull you through time either. I don’t know how this could have happen.” Toru paused and thought over the possibilities. His face became grim and said, “You mentioned that it wanted a Sacred Jewel.”

“Yes, but I don’t know what that is. I’m not wearing any jewelry like that and the only thing I have is this simple bell.” Mahiru took the bell charm he picked up earlier. He paused when he noticed that it was glowing faintly. He rolled the bell in his palm and it jingled lightly. The world held magic and Mahiru considered that was the cause of the glow.

“I thought the Sacred Jewel was a power lost to time.” Toru said and Mahiru turned back to him. “The Sacred Jewel can grant its holder the powers of a miko and a demon. Wars had been started to possess the jewel until a priestess sealed it in her soul. She also ordered that her body be burned after her death. Her ashes were placed in the Bone-Eater’s Well.”

“I can only imagine how difficult that had to be for her family. To stop the fighting, they had to sacrifice their daughter.” Mahiru bit his lip. He placed the teacup down and sighed. His reflection in the tea was the only familiar thing in the world. “I never heard of that legend before. In my time, we don’t have things like demons and magic. Why would the demon think I have it?”

“My sister was the priestess that sacrificed herself to seal away the Sacred Jewel. You look remarkably like her.” Toru didn’t know what to make of the person before him. “My sister didn’t have children before her death but you’re not a reincarnation of her either. Your souls are different. The centipede demon must’ve mistaken you for her based on your appearance.”

“So, she thought I had that jewel. You said that she didn’t have the power to manipulate time.”

“She doesn’t but the jewel does.” He didn’t explain further but his grim expression made Mahiru think that there was more. Toru stood and said, “We need to return you to your time as soon as possible. Hopefully, you can return the way you came. I will help you through Sleepy Ash’s Forest. It is the home of many demons.”

“Thank you for your help, Uncle. Oh, I mean, Toru.” Mahiru bowed his head. Even if the man wasn’t his uncle, he was able to trust him.

He followed his uncle out of the hut and looked towards the forest. A light blanket of colours was draped over the sky and it made a path. Mahiru unconsciously took a step towards the forest. He stretched a hand to the sky and spoke his thoughts aloud. “I thought we could only see the aurora in the north. It’s pointing towards the Thousand Year Old Tree. There was a man there.”

“Mahiru, it is best that you be wary of the demon sealed to that tree. He may be only a half demon but he is still dangerous. Thinking simply, we must go directly to the well.” Mahiru pictured the man. With his cat ears and piercing red eyes, he was likely a demon.

The ground began to shake beneath their feet before it split between Mahiru and Toru. He didn’t have anything to help him stay balanced and he fell to the ground. Villagers ran out of their homes with spears and arrows. Mahiru didn’t have a weapon so he couldn’t defend himself when the centipede demon ascended from the cavern.

“You have it. Give me the jewel.” The demon’s shadow eclipsed him and its power made him shiver in fear. It loomed over him with its large pincers, posed to attack. Mahiru looked around him for help but he saw that the villagers were frightened as well. The reason the centipede was attacking the village was because of him. He had to lead it away from the village.

He gripped a handful of dirt and hurled it into the woman’s eyes. His weak attack was enough to stall the demon. He kicked the demon’s nose and then hastily crawled away from it. Mahiru picked up a rock and threw it at the demon again. “If you want me, then you have to catch me!”

Mahiru sprinted into the forest. The demon followed him like he predicted it would. He heard his uncle call for him to stop but he only ran faster. He was certain that he couldn’t outrun the centipede’s many legs but he could draw it away from innocent people at least. His only hope was to find a place to hide in the dense forest. Everything in the forest looked the same at night and he quickly found himself lost.

He relied on his instincts and reflexes to outmaneuver the centipede. Mahiru ducked beneath a tree branch and ran through a bush. As the demon chased him, it destroyed everything in its path. A tree branch flew towards him and struck his leg. He lost his footing and he stumbled down the small hill until he finally hit something. To his confusion, the trip didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would.

“I knew you were trouble the first time I saw you. Can’t deal.” A voice groaned above him. Mahiru realized that he had fallen against a man’s chest. He sat up and saw faced the cat demon he saw before. His red eyes looked more tired than angry. “I’m trying to sleep. Can you and your friend play tag somewhere else? You’re noisy.”

“That demon is trying to kill me!” Mahiru stood and took the man’s hand. He tried to pull him to his feet but he sat firmly in place. “It’s going to catch up to me soon so we need to run away.”

“I haven’t moved from this spot for the last century.” The man gripped the arrow that kept him pinned to the tree. “My brother placed a curse on me and I can’t leave this tree. Don’t make that face. This curse isn’t too bad since I get to sleep in this nice shade. You should worry more about yourself. That demon is nearby so you better start running.”

“Oh no!” Mahiru scurried to his feet but it was too late. The demon burst through the trees and rushed towards them. Its jagged nails dug into his skin when it gripped his neck. He crawled at its fingers in a hopeless attempt to free himself. Adrenaline and panic rushed through his body and hands started to glow again. “Leave me alone! I don’t have your stupid jewel!”

“I can sense it in you.” The centipede screeched. A scream was torn from Mahiru’s throat when its razor sharp leg cut his side. He gripped the injury to stop the bleeding but he felt something else press against his fingers. Mahiru glanced down and slowly tok his hand back. He found a stunning, pink gem in his palm. “That’s the sacred jewel! Give it to me.”

The centipede wrapped its long body around the tree until they were trapped. He was certain they would be crushed soon. It became difficult breathe but he knew it was too dangerous to give the jewel to her. He heard the man groan beneath him. “So troublesome.”

Mahiru said, “I’m so sorry I dragged you into this. My name’s Mahiru. Can I know your name? I don’t want to die with a complete stranger.”

“My name is Kuro.” He answered and looked down at him. “But neither of us will die tonight. You have a lot of spiritual energy, even without the jewel inside you. You might have the power to break this curse. Purify this arrow and I’ll defeat that demon for you.”

How could he possibly purify a cursed arrow? Mahiru didn’t know if there was a spell or an incarnation he should chant to break the curse. He reached up and grabbed the arrow but his consciousness was beginning to falter. A warmth spread from the Sacred Jewel. While it felt comforting to Mahiru, it made Kuro and the centipede wince in pain.

The demon loosened its grip and Mahiru looked back over his shoulder. He thought he saw someone standing in the pink light created by the Sacred Jewel. A woman stood between them and the centipede, protecting them. “Mom?”

Her image faded with the soft light of the sacred jewel. Mahiru could breathe again and he pulled on the arrow with all his strength. It came free and turned to ash in his hands. Kuro wrapped his arm around Mahiru’s waist and helped him stand. The centipede began to circle them again and Mahiru pressed himself closer to his chest.

“I hate fighting.” Kuro said but gently pushed Mahiru behind. Smoke coated his hands and became claws. The air seemed to crack around them when Kuro glared at the demon. He brought his claws down on the centipede with enough force to make the dirt rise around them. His attack broke through the demon’s thick skin and cracked a crack in the ground. He kept it in place as dark spikes rose from the dirt to stab the centipede.

Mahiru cautiously peered out from behind Kuro. The demon laid motionless and he asked, “Is it dead?”

“Yeah. I’m glad this demon was weak. Fighting someone strong right after a nap would be troublesome.” Kuro pulled back his hand and the centipede turned to ash and bones before them. Mahiru noticed that there was blood on his hand took out a napkin. He offered it to Kuro but he shook his head. “If you want to give me something for saving you, I’ll take the Shikon Jewel.”

“What?” He assumed that Kuro was uninterested in the jewel because he hadn’t mentioned it before now. Mahiru took a sharp step away from him and clutched the gem to his chest. He saw him defeat the centipede so he knew he was strong. Yet, Kuro didn’t attack or threaten him. They watched each other carefully, waiting for the other to move first.

He heard the leaves rustle behind him and Mahiru looked over his shoulder. He was relieved to see that it was his uncle and the villagers. The moment he turned away, Kuro stole the Sacred Jewel from him. He ran away from the group before anyone could react. Mahiru ran after him and called his name: “Kuro, please, return that gem! Its power is dangerous.”

He ignored him and continued to dash through the forest. The distance was quickly growing between them. Mahiru didn’t know what he would want from the jewel since it couldn’t be for power. He was already strong and he said he disliked fighting. He didn’t seem to be lying either. Kuro didn’t bother to fight the villagers and merely dodged the arrows they shot at him.

Mahiru chased him until Toru caught his arm. “Wait, Mahiru, do you have the bell you showed me earlier? It’s a spiritual artifact and we can use it to cast a spell on Kuro that will stop him. You only need to speak a prayer to subdue him. It can be any words you wish.”

“Will it hurt him? He hasn’t attacked anyone yet so we might be able to talk to him.” Mahiru took out the bell. He didn’t want to fight Kuro but he understood he couldn’t let him leave with the jewel. Toru nodded to reassure him. He chased after Kuro and chanted an incarnation. The bell glowed lightly before it vanished from his fingers. In the distance, a bell rang and Kuro stopped.

Mahiru could see that he was struggling with something around his neck. The bell rang louder each time Kuro tried to remove the necklace. He knew that he needed to shout a phase to complete the spell. Kuro’s ears flattened in reaction to his frustration. At that moment, Mahiru yelled the first words that came to mind: “Sit boy!”

The bell shined and gravity changed around Kuro. He was forced to the ground with a loud thud. The jewel rolled out of Kuro’s hand and Mahiru picked him up. He kept a secure grip on it as he knelt next to him. He gently touched his shoulder and said, “Are you okay, Kuro? That sounded like it hurt.”

“Troublesome, I only wanted the jewel to be human.” His words were a soft whisper that only Mahiru heard. Before he could ask what he meant, the villagers took Kuro away.

#servamp #kuromahi #sloth pair #servamp kuro #mahiru shirota #fanfiction

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darkredehmption · 4 years

Text

Convergence

***

Zsadist:

[My nightmares were getting the best of me. It was getting so bad that at one point I was barely getting any sleep. Every time I closed my eyes my demons came out to play. Taunting me and making me feel like I was nothing. I tried my best to not think about it too much, but as of lately I was just in my head. Which didn’t help on nights like tonight when I was on rotation. I needed to stay focused. Then again, getting smacked around a bit might do me good. My attention is drawn to my twin when I feel a nudge to my arm. “You okay?” His golden eyes found my own.]

Yeah. Just was thinking about something. [Or someone. I couldn’t get Malys out of my head. Phury even gave him a number to contact in case his Mahmen wanted to meet the Chosens, and no text or call. Nothing. My brows draw in and I suddenly get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. What if something happened to him and he didn’t make it home safe?

Shaking the thoughts from my head as I watch Butch move over to us with Vishous close behind. Then we all move in unison down the street. Cop gave an uneasy look which told me that the enemy was nearby. “Z…Let Cop lead the way.” Eyeing Vishous as I try to stay focused. I felt like a caged animal. Desperate for a fight or more so to get hit a few times. I was disgusting but I needed this. The hits would make me feel...alive.

Butch moves forward, directing us towards a large group of lessers that luckily had no civilians. It was so much easier to handle a situation without any hostages. I couldn’t help it though. Once I saw them I charged. I heard a brother holler at me but I didn’t look back. The lessers all snapped their heads up at once and came straight for me. The Brothers did manage to catch up but that didn’t stop the one that lunged for me. I felt a hit to my side then a blow to the face that sent shivers down my spine. Yes. This is exactly what I needed. Ignoring the weapons I could use on the fucker, instead I started throwing punches. Remembering when I got to spar with Malys. The thought sidetracks me and I earn a hit to my jaw that causes me to stumble back.

Growling loudly as I ram my body forward, practically knocking the fucker down to the ground. Grabbing ahold of him as I pound my fist into the enemy’s face over and over again. Black blood splattering out, coating his face so it was barely recognizable. I was crazed and nothing could stop me in this moment. There was a ringing in my ears that caused me to block out everything. Completely oblivious to anything that was going on around me. Giving one last punch that cracks the lesser’s head back. In one swift movement I unsheathe my dagger and stabs it right into his sweet spot to send the fucker back to the omega. When the flash of light forms I lift my head.

And that’s when I see another lesser pointing a gun straight at my head. How did I not sense him there? My golden eyes go wide and suddenly I heard everything around me. The sounds of my Brothers grunting and punches being thrown. Even my name being screamed from across the alley. Then there was a sound that was unfamiliar to me. A flapping sound that came with a gust of wind. Was this it? Did I finally come to my end? The last thing I heard was the sound of the trigger being pulled and the gun firing.]

Mal:

The wind howled around me as I looked down over the city, gleaming like a jewel even at this midnight hour. My feathers dragged in the breeze, eager to ride it, but even as my mind argued it was time to leave, something else kept me locked in place.

My backpack hung between my wings, an easy weight as I drew in a deep breath of city air and let it out slowly. Strapped to my thigh was a silver blade, and my belt had a nine mil tucked in the back. The shotgun with rock salt shells I’d been rocking to deal with a poltergeist (thanks, Sam; so /not/ a cursed object…) I’d stowed away in the pack.

Without meaning too, I let my mind reach out. There were times I could control it; sense a house and its occupants, sense a demon on the move, but this time it happened without my giving thought to it. One minute I was on the rooftop, the night sky beckoning, the next I was immersed in the city, in the scream of cab horns and the laughter of drunken revellers moving to their next venue. As I left the brighter streets behind, the seedy underbelly greeted me, and like an arrow with a target my mind zeroed in.

Demons.

My breath caught as I took a step toward the ledge, ready to leap, when the sense refined itself further. Not demons…

Lessers.

The black blooded creatures were moving fast, and with a start I felt not just their darkness, but the light of other things. Other people.

The Brothers.

I leapt off the building, my wings beating hard as I let my mind lead me closer. Surely, they had it under control. Centuries of fighting, they were warriors of another calibre. But then…

“Zsadist…”

I breathed his name into the night as his spark, his light, registered so much brighter. He was there, but he was… distracted. The Lesser he fought was the weaker of the problems. With an unrelenting rage and ferocity he moved to dispatch his foe, even as I drew level from above, the visions of light and dark in my mind merging with what my eyes could see. The auras of the Brothers shone, even as the dark clouds that opposed them tried to take over, smother their light.

I saw the other Lesser so clearly now, saw him raise the weapon as Zsadist came back to reality. Those golden eyes widened.

But I was already falling.

I couldn’t hit the Lesser; not this time. The gun would still discharge. The Brother would still be shot. Those golden eyes forever dimmed. My gut clenched in fear at the idea.

I landed by the Brother and threw my wings wide as I snarled. The gun fired. I felt a brief burst of pain. Then my own gun was up. I fired, and the bullet found its mark. The Lesser dropped as I panted, seething. He’d thought to kill this Brother? Fuck. No. Not on my damn watch.

Turning, I met those golden eyes. Still bright. Still alive and vital. My relief was exquisite, though his shock was moderately entertaining. I managed a rueful grin before inclining my head. Then I was pivoting again, bringing my weapon up to take aim as the remaining Lessers started to scatter.

Zsadist:

[I was ready to accept my fate. Knowing that this would be it for me. Then in one moment it all changed. Someone swooped down, standing in front of me as a shield from the lesser. And that’s when I noticed the wings. The huge black wings that spread out in front of me, blocking me from watching the scene unfold. What. The. Fuck. I couldn’t help but just stand there in total shock. My feet were cemented to the floor, only to loosen when I watched the bullet hit one of the mystery angel’s wings. NO! Why the fuck would this male take a bullet for me? The hell...My thoughts are cut off when his head turns to reveal Malys.

My jaw goes slack, eyes burning bright as they lock onto the male I thought I’d never see again. Fuck. So I wasn’t crazy that night. He did have wings. Which explained so much. No wonder the halfbreed didn’t heal as fast as he should when under our care. Why the fuck didn’t Lassiter tell anyone about this? I could kill the fucking angel. Fucker probably thought it was funny.

With a snort I’m brought back to reality when Malys starts to take on any lesser that comes his way. And I move right in beside him to do much of the same. We moved in perfect unison, almost like a dance. It was like we’ve been fighting alongside each other for years. I was unaware of anything else around me. Hell I didn’t even know what the fuck my Brothers were doing. All I saw was Malys moving with me as we took down the lessers in front of us.

My golden eyes narrow as I watch one come up behind him. The enemy reached for his wings and before he could grab at the feathers I grabbed him. Tugging him back only to sink my fangs into his throat. I couldn’t help the animalistic side of me that came out. No one was going to hurt this male in front of me anymore. Not on my watch.

My head thrashing back and forth as I tear open the lesser’s throat. Black blood splattering on my face, but I didn’t care. Pulling back, I spit out a piece of flesh before I reach around to stab him in the chest. Watching the flash of light before I lift my head to study Malys. My brows draw in as I see the blood dripping from his wing. Scrubbing my hand over my mouth to wipe off the enemy’s blood as I move forward. All I saw was him.]

Mal:

The world faded into the background. I knew there were other Brothers there, fighting, but they were a secondary concern as Zsadist and I moved like a unit, dispatching anything that came close. I sensed the Lesser approaching at my back, reaching for my injured wing, but before I could even contemplate a countermove the male was there, tearing it to pieces as I put a round in the brain base of the Lesser I was holding.

Looking up from the ruins of the skull at my feet, I locked eyes on the two Lessers still lingering at the mouth of the alley. My eyes lit, silvery white power filling me from within. I flared my one good wing wider, the other dragging, as I bared my fangs and snarled. Behind me, a Lesser popped into non-existence with a burst of light. They both turned and ran.

And as much as I wanted to go after them, I instead took a breath and shuddered, letting the power go. I could feel eyes on me, and I didn’t need to turn my head to know it was the Brothers this time. Instead I looked to Zsadist. As if on cue, the tendon injured by the bullet in my wing snapped, the limb dropping to hang down my back and drag along the pavement. I gave it a dismissive glance, folding the working side tighter to my back.

The male was spattered in black ichor, his chest heaving up and down after the exertion. But, thankfully, uninjured. I actually let out a breath at how relieved I was.

“You’ve got a little something here…” I said dryly, tapping the corner of my lip, the male’s face all but covered by the Lesser blood. “And have you lost your fucking mind?”

One of the other Brothers snorted. It might’ve been Phury. But considering the rueful expressions they were all sporting, like they agreed with my assessment, I couldn’t be sure. The golden eyed Brother before me had clearly been rocking that ‘loose canon’ vibe.

Zsadist:

[If my Brothers weren’t around right now I would have hugged the male that just risked his life for me. Speaking of my Brothers, one glance at them and I saw total shock and confusion on their faces. Vishous muttered something as he lit a blunt before going to check on cop, who was dealing with the aftermath of inhaling lessers. Phury steps forward almost mesmerized by the wings as my gaze meets Malys’s once again. When he makes a crack at me I scrub my hand over my mouth to wipe off more of the black blood.]

Shouldn’t I be saying the same to you? Jumping in front of a gun like that….again. [Shaking my head.] And here I thought I had a death wish. Turns out it was you. The fuck you doing? [My brows draw in.] You…[What? Scared me? Sure did. Made me feel something? Yup. I couldn’t handle this. Trying to take in deep breaths, I turn to pace a little. Ignoring anyone around me as I just stay in my head for a moment. Finally my head snaps to my twin.]

So...he’s coming back with us so we can patch that up. [My hand gestures towards the fucking wing. Scribe. How did I not know? Phury raises both brows then just nods slowly as his eyes stay trained on me. I couldn’t look at Malys. If I did I was afraid of what I would do. So instead I move over to Vishous and offered to bring the SUV around. Butch wasn’t looking so hot.

When I turned with the keys in hand, I catch a glimpse at the angel. My jaw clenches and I felt a tightening in my chest. What the fuck was wrong with me? Practically running out of the alley to retrieve the car that was parked a few blocks down. I couldn’t believe what he just did...Where the hell did he come from and how did he know where we were? My head was full of questions as I bring the car over to the Brothers. Getting out to watch V help cop into the passenger’s seat. “So...we are bringing him back...again?” I eyed the diamond eyed Brother and just nodded once. He tosses his blunt onto the asphalt, stomping it out with a boot before getting into the driver’s seat. That was my cue to finally talk to the male again.

Turning around to face him, I eye Phury as he clamps a hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. When I step forward towards the angel the Brother moves to talk to Vishous. Basically saying that he was going to dematz back to let Wrath know what was doing. Great. Lifting my gaze to Malys, my lips twitch before I speak.]

You are gonna come back with us and...um...we are going to patch you up. [My brows draw in as I eye the wing. Wondering how long it would take for it to heal.]

Mal:

Phury looked at me with a whole new light; I had to wonder how many /more/ questions he had for my mahmen now that he’d seen me rocking a set of wings. As Zsadist scrubbed at his face, my attention was irrevocably pulled back to him. At the question, I shrugged, holstering my piece, waiting for him to finish. Only he didn’t. His sentence trailed off and I frowned as he turned and stalked away, shoulders tense.

I looked to Phury, but he just shook his head fractionally and moved toward his twin. Biting back my frustration, I looked away, instead watching as the diamond eyed Brother helped my fellow non-dematting halfbreed, Butch. The male looked like he’d been sucking down bottles of ipecac and was ready to upchuck all over the place.

Zsadist’s question forced me to glance over, my mind churning and my gut backflipping as I tried to process ‘why’ I was so bothered by the male avoiding me. I mean, sure, I’d saved his ass, but I’d done that for plenty of people through my life and never once wanted to grab them and shake them afterward. Maybe it was the disappointment. The Brother clearly had made his decision when he hadn’t bothered to see me off. N’ now here I was, rocking his situation again and forcing him to acknowledge me.

Frowning at the pavement, I glanced back at the wing. With a bit of sunlight I was looking at a day, maybe two, of recovery. There was zero chance of me using it to take off right now, much as I might like to. As the vampires hustled around me to get their shit in gear, loading Butch into the SUV, I looked up as Zsadist approached, locking down my facial expressions to a calm ‘whatever’.

Inclining my head politely at his words, I moved toward the car, my wing trailing in the dirt and debris of the alley.

“I’ll need to be in the trunk,” I said coolly, the irony not lost on me. “Again. My wings won’t fit in the seats or sitting.”

I popped the back as I reached the SUV, not acknowledging Zsadist as I paused and concentrated. So far, I’d been ignoring the aching stab of pain from the wound, too distracted by the golden eyed male, but the muscles around it clenched and spasmed. Now, as I tried to fold the wing up, to fit it into the car, I couldn’t help a small grunt and gasp of pain. The agony shot from my wing to my spine. I curled my fingers around the tailgate then forced myself to climb in, turning sideways. My good wing hit the roof and fanned out at the back, while the bad one lay limply down my back and onto the carpet, staining it red.

Crouched in the back like an animal, bleeding all over their shit not for the first time but the second, I felt a faint flush of embarrassment. How was this my life? What the fuck was I doing?

“Let’s do this,” I muttered, avoiding looking at Zsadist in favour of turning my gaze toward Vishous. The Brother seemed to regard everything with an almost clinical stare, and I could do with a little distance right now as opposed to the emotions ripping me up whenever I looked at Zsadist.

Zsadist:

[There was a lot of emotions coming off of the angel. He seemed angry with me and why shouldn’t he be? Though I was still so puzzled why he came to my rescue. Why did he put himself through that...for me? Lifting my head to watch his sad walk to the back of the SUV. I took a step forward as if I was going to join him, only to pause when the trunk closes. I wanted to scream. Gritting my teeth as I hear the demons in the back of my head, taunting me. Scrubbing both hands over my skull trim head before I move into the Escalade.

Once inside I eye Vishous in the rear view mirror. I couldn’t help but notice the Brother giving me a look. Then he cracks a small grin. Blinking as I rip my gaze away from him, feeling the car pull out and drive off. The ride was silent until I heard a few groans from Butch. V immediately eyes him, reaching a hand out to grip his arm. He murmurs low to the male. Telling him basically that he will heal him once they are back at the pit. Even though my eyes were trained forward, I could feel the angel’s stare burning into the back of my skull. His fresh blood was all I could smell. And I wanted to so badly to comfort him in the same way my Brothers just did for each other, but I couldn’t.

What was doing with me? Why was I so fucked up? “Z…” My head snaps back quickly to look at Malys behind me. Though he wasn’t the one who called my name. I couldn’t help but steal a glance at him before I turn my attention towards my twin who was sitting beside me. Those golden eyes looked at me sadly. My brows draw in and I murmur barely.]

I’m fine. [Hoping that Malys didn’t hear me. Phury nods slowly then gazes out of the window. I let in a deep breath, listening to the sound of the angel’s heart beating in the quiet car ride. It fluttered strong which was a good sign. Not that I thought he was going to bleed out in the back of the van. When we arrive, I watch Vishous practically run out to get Butch out and help him into the pit. Leaving just my twin, Malys, and I in the car. Phury lingers but I break the silence.]

Brother I got this. I’ll take him to the PT Suite. Though he probably just needs some sun which can happen in a few hours. [My eyes trained on the seat in front of me as I spoke.] You can let Wrath know we have a visitor. I’m sure he will be thrilled. [My twin was a little hesitant to leave, but eventually he does leaving just myself and the angel in the car. The silence drags on before I move to get out. When I pop open the trunk, my eyes meet his. I get that tightness in my chest again as I eye his injured wing. Slowly I stretch out my arm. Holding my hand out for him to take, if he would. I couldn’t help but eye the slave band that peeked out of my sleeve.]

Mal:

In much closer proximity, I changed my mind about Butch; the Brother didn’t look like he was going to be sick, he looked like he had the mutant baby virus of ebola and swine flu. If I didn’t know better about vampires getting sick, I’d have lifted my shirt over my nose. Then probably have Vishous break my jaw. Ahh well. Couldn’t be worse than the pain in my wing. Or my chest…

The Brothers didn’t bother with the blindfold schtick this time. Whether it was my saving Zsadist’s life, saving Chosen lives, or the wings, I couldn’t tell you, but they drove on up the highway back to the mansion and I half heartedly paid attention, too distracted by looking at Zsadist, not looking at Zsadist, and trying not to move my wing with the motion of the car. Whatever talk that happened was minimal, Vishous checking on Butch, and Phury having a hushed conversation with his brother up front.

By the time we arrived, I’d started to count the threads in the car seats, but watching Vishous collect Butch from the Escalade and half carry him off down the hall distracted me from my own desire to escape the vehicle. When Zsadist spoke again, I almost jumped.

Eyes flicking between the pair, I take in the back and forth without bothering to get out. One, because I was weary of moving my wing and letting it drag unnecessarily, and two… I was curious. About their dynamic. About this place. About the male that had to take a breath and hold a minute before finally coming to the back of the car and popping the door. I looked at the hand he held out to me, surprised that he was offering it after seeming to avoid me since I dropped from above.

When I reached out to take it, a spark shot up my arm. But I didn’t let go.

Using his grip to slip out of the SUV, I grimaced as my wing dropped, the muscles shrieking at being stretched and pulled with a bullet somewhere inside.

“Could you…” I took a breath and did a metaphorical grab of my sack and hardened up. “…carry my wing, please? I can’t lift it. The muscles are torn,” I admitted gruffly, trying to look anywhere but those golden eyes. “And I kind of can’t reach it myself…”

Though I definitely felt a little bad about getting blood all over the male, again, it kind of worked with the still black smeared face he was rocking, so… win?

“I’m curious though how your med staff are going to handle me. This. When was the last time they pretended to be vets?” I muttered, biting my lip as the male’s hands, so used to slaughtering Lessers, lifted and cradled my damaged wing with such care.

Zsadist:

[When his hand reached for my own, I couldn’t help but feel that spark again. But this time he doesn’t pull away. Why doesn’t he? He found me disgusting, yes? So he should be pulling away from me. My eyes lock onto his own, brows drawing in when the angel asked me to hold his wing up. The one he used to protect me from a bullet. My hands move slowly, grabbing the injured wing with the softest touch I could manage. I couldn’t help but let my fingers move through the feathers. It felt so nice. Closing my eyes for a brief moment before I focus on walking down the tunnels.]

Will sunlight heal you? [Eying the wound that was dripping with blood.] If not I..I can try to patch it up. I mean...how serious is it? [Why was I such a mess always in front of this male? I couldn’t help this awkwardness around him. Ever since the first time we met, I felt something that I never have before and I wasn’t quite sure just what that was.

Once at the door of the PT suite, I will it open before moving inside the room with him. The staff was nowhere to be found, but I could get them in an instant if needed. Here we were again. Only this time he was awake and had a giant pair of wings. My lips twitch at the thought before I moved to grab some supplies from the cabinet. Needing to keep busy so I wouldn’t stare at him.]

Tell me. Why did you come to the alley? And how? How did you know I was there with my Brothers? It’s like you knew I was about to get…[Trailing off as I close the drawer in front of me. Clutching the gauze in my hand as I try to focus on the task at hand. But I couldn’t. I was an absolute mess and I didn’t want him to see it. Lifting my head slowly, taking in a deep breath.]

Why didn’t you tell me what you were? [Closing my eyes, but all I could see was those wings. Shit. And there was that tightness in my chest. Turning slowly to face the angel. Searching his eyes before I moved towards him. My hand reaches out, gently landing on his injured wing.]

Mal:

Reaching the med wing, I take a seat on the gurney, letting the male potter around to gather whatever he wanted. Hopefully a shot of morphine was part of the supplies. I wasn’t bothered by the lack of staff; if the male wanted to play nurse that was kind of alright with me. Besides, it was keeping his hands busy and his eyes occupied. All the better to watch him as I ignored the pulsing throb of my wing.

“It’ll heal in sunlight once the bullet is out,” I admit. “Though I probably shouldn’t fly on it for a day or so. The tendons need time to strengthen.” Clever of the male to already deduce that sunlight was the key to my restoration. I mean, their resident angel must’ve offered some insight, and my sneaking around the last time I was here probably helped some.

At his questions I can’t help but sigh. In for a penny, in for a pound I suppose. I’d made the call to reveal my nature when I’d used my wing as a flesh and blood shield for this male. Could I really stop now?

“I can sense demons,” I admit gruffly, looking down. “I ended up staying in town for a job and I was getting ready to leave tonight. When I sensed the Lessers… I also sensed you. I was flying to you before I even knew what I was doing…” I trailed off, shrugging, the action causing another wince as my wing objected and the other rustled against the gurney. “Can you honestly blame me for not wanting to say anything? There’s nothing else like me,” I point out dryly. “My mahmen feared her whole life that I’d be shunned. Rejected. Hunted.”

Sighing, I shook my head and looked down. “But I couldn’t… not… save you. I don’t know what it was but the thought of those golden eyes never taking in the world again…” Taking in me… “...well, I did what I did.”

Zsadist:

[My golden eyes grow wide as I hear the male’s words. I couldn’t hold back the growl that formed in my chest.] You will not be rejected or hunted. Not on my watch. [Gritting my teeth as I set the supplies down. How could this male think he was some sort of freak? I mean...has he met me? Snorting at the thought as I reach for his wing again, inspecting the wound before I meet his gaze.]

Do you want me to numb it with a shot? Or you okay for me to just pull it out? [My fingers twitched against his feathers. I couldn’t help but think about all that he said. Maybe I got him wrong before. Then why did he pull back in the gym? Dropping my head, keeping my eyes trained on his wound.]

You drive me crazy. You know that? [I admit as my hands moved to grab an alcohol pad, carefully running it over the bullet hole.] One moment I think you find me repulsive and the next you are saying shit like that. [Tossing the bloody gauze away as I try not to lose it in front of him. I couldn’t give him more reasons to see how much a freak I was. Gripping the sides of the gurney.]

Thank you for doing what you did. I owe you a lot. [My life apparently. Lifting my gaze to the male. There was that spark again, except it was all over. Along with the tightness in my chest.] Seems like fate brought you back again...if you were smart you would stay and consider the program. Just saying. [Why did I want him to stay so much? I mean...he was a great fighter. Clearly doing way better than me.]

Mal:

“If you have a shot, I’ll take it,” I shrug. “I don’t know if you’ve ever had wings, but they can be very sensitive in some places,” I add dryly, shaking my head and looking at the floor.

At his words though, the confession that I drive him crazy, my head snapped up. My eyes were wide in shock, and I couldn’t seem to find the muscles to get my facial features under control as I stared at him. For the first time since being shot, I was oblivious to the bullet wound, even after he’d cleaned the area with alcohol.

“Repulsed?” I echoed, my tone containing every bit of disbelief I possessed. “Why would I… because of the gym?” I asked, barely constructing sentences that would pass a fifth grade English lesson. But I was lost for words. Of all the things I’d felt around this male, being repulsed or disgusted never even came close to the list.

Waving off the training program crap (cause, yeah, one thing at a time) I shifted forward on the gurney. “I pulled away from you at the gym because you shatter my defences,” I said quietly, trying to get that golden gaze to lock with my own, so he could see the truth in my eyes. “I’ve worked my whole life to hide what I am, who I am, and two minutes of rolling around on a mat with you and my divinity was nearly /there/,” I declared, clenching my jaw as I took a deep breath. “My wings… my eyes… I nearly lost control with you. /That/ is what you do to me, Zsadist,” I managed, leaning back slightly. “You take a lifetime’s worth of my hard earned self control and destroy it just by /looking/ at me.”

I wanted to scowl. I wanted to be mad. And a part of me was, but only with myself. That my defences had been so easily tested. That I held interest in a male that kept the world, it seemed, at arm’s length. Maybe that was all it was; like his King, he wanted me to be a trainee. A soldier. That was all.

…right?

“Was that why you didn’t see me when I left?” I whispered, watching him, trying to see the reaction in his eyes, the shift of those powerful shoulders. “You thought I was repulsed by you, so you stayed away? Is that the kind of male you think I am?” I pushed, latching onto his wrist and using the grip to pull him close. I turned his wrist in my hand, until his slave band had to be showing, but I never even looked down at it. “Do you think I’m bothered by those? That I would think less of you? Truly?”

And I realized it hurt. My chest ached that this male, this warrior, would think I’d spurned him because of his bands and his scar; that my withdrawal had been, to him, a condemnation and rejection.

Zsadist:

[I tried to look anywhere but his eyes. Though I failed at that. As I stared into them, I was lost for words. What could I say to him? Yeah. I thought he found me disgusting. And I don't mean that in a bad way. Just all my life I got accustomed to how people acted around me. I understood why they did. I had so much self hate for myself that I just accepted it all. Knowing that it was true. But he wasn’t looking at me like that. He just was someone like me where feelings and opening up didn’t come naturally.

Stiffening slightly as his hand clasped my arm. Tugging me forward, exposing the slave band on my wrist. Though he didn’t look at it. Just spoke on how it didn’t affect him and what he saw in me. None of it did.]

I…[My throat closes up and I struggle to form words. Shit. Why was I so bad at this?] Yes, I didn’t come see you cause I didn’t think you’d want to see me again. But that wasn’t the case...was it? [My wrist felt like it was on fire from his touch, though I didn’t want him to let go. Leaning in slightly as my voice dropped to a whisper.] If you only knew what you do to me. If only…

[Closing my eyes tightly. I couldn’t look at him anymore. It made my chest ache. The shot. Yes. He said he wanted one. Pulling away as I take in a breath, turning to retrieve the needle. I found it easily, but pretend to search around for a bit so I could get my shit together. This was all new to me. Is this how my Brother’s felt with their mates…? No...can’t be. I kept my eyes on the task at hand when I returned to the male. Carefully grabbing at his wing before I give him the shot. I needed to get this bullet out of him. As I set down the needle, I can’t help but open up.]

All my life...I’ve lived in darkness. Sure there was a time where I was even worse if you can imagine. I tried so hard to isolate myself from everything. Then my Brothers got me out of that...and it lasted for awhile. [My hands moved, reaching for the forceps. Leaning in as I grab at the bullet. My free hand dropping to his thigh as I pulled it free. Wanting him to know I was here if he needed me. The bullet came out easily and there wasn’t a lot of blood that followed. Which was a good sign. I rubbed at his thigh for a moment before I lifted my hand off to patch him up. Speaking once again.]

But then after awhile I felt the darkness return. They all found their happy with their mates. And they deserve it. Though I never felt like I did. Which is okay. I always told myself it wasn’t in my cards. That I’m…too much for anyone to handle. To want to be around me like that. [To love me...I finished in my head. There was no way I could say that out loud. Slowly I pulled away. The tightness in my chest returned and so did the demons.] You are all set…[My voice weak as I spoke.]

Mal:

I shook my head faintly at his question - that it wasn’t the case. I had wanted to see him again. And leaving without doing so… had held me bound to this city without even needing the poltergeist job. I wanted to know what I did to him. I /wanted/ it more than I’d wanted anything in a long time.

The needle in my wing, the removal of the bullet; I hardly felt either as I watched him, aware only of the stroke of his hand on my thigh, the way it sent heat running through me, soothed the wound better than any morphine.

Listening to his story, I felt the misery that he’d thought so poorly of me fade away. How could he not, when his own race had used him as a slave and treated him as something ‘less than’? He’d pulled himself out of it, with his Brothers and the families they had here, but to hear him say that he thought a mate, a lover, wasn’t a reality when he was too deeply scarred?

The spark that had leapt between us so often ignited. I had no idea if he’d be receptive, if he’d even appreciate it, but fuck it, the male had to know…

I seized his hand as he pulled away, drawing him back. Lifting both my hands to gently cup his cheeks, I closed my eyes and pressed my lips to his. He tasted like apples and steel; sweetness with strength. I felt him tense between my legs, in the cradle of my hands, and I reluctantly moved to pull back, my eyes opening.

“What do I do to you?” I breathed. I couldn’t let him go, our faces an inch apart as I searched his eyes. They weren’t the words I’d intended to say - something more along the lines of ‘you are worthy of love, and will be loved’ - but now that I’d spoken my question it was all I wanted to know. Did I make his heart race? Did I make him want more?

Did I make him wish and ache for me to stay? Because he did that to me. He was making me long to stay. To hold him like this again. Kiss him again. Prove that he wasn’t too much…

Zsadist:

[The angel pulled me in and I froze up. What came next I didn’t expect. He moved forward and planted his lips onto my own. There wasn’t a sense of disgust from him. The total opposite actually. He seemed to be enjoying it very much. As for me...it drove me crazy. Though I didn’t know quite how to react. What if I did something to turn him off? I mean hell...this was all new to me.

My hands fall to rest on the gurney, fingers curling around the edge of it. Holding on tightly as I take in the taste of the male. Even when his lips lifted off my own he didn’t pull back. He stayed nice and close to me. Then came the question. He wanted to know it all. I struggled at first. Taking a moment to think before I spoke. Suddenly realizing that my demons went quiet. Everything was quiet. I liked it.]

You...make everything feel good. And I’ve never felt that before. Ever. Hell I didn’t even know I was capable of feeling until I laid eyes on you. My heart? [Grabbing at his hand, placing it right on my chest so he could feel it beat for him.] It doesn’t just race...it wants to break free from my chest. Which by the way my chest tightens...like I long for you when you aren’t near. [Dropping my hand from his as I let out a snort.] When you left? I lost it...I lost control and been having nightmares every single night. [Did I even want to mention one of those times I called for him only to find Phury at my side. Shaking my head as I roll my shoulders.] I’ve only just met you and I can’t get you out of my head. That’s what you do to me. And fuck what I wouldn’t do to feel that spark every single day with you.

[Closing my eyes as my hands reach up to scrub roughly over my skull trim head. Why the fuck did I say all of that? Fuck! I couldn’t help it. It all just spilled out of and there was no turning back from it. As I take in a deep breath I couldn’t help but take in the scent of him and it was heavenly. No pun intended. Dropping my hands to the gurney once again. They shake as I try to grab onto something. He made me absolutely crazy. So much that I was afraid of what I might do if he were to leave again. No. He can’t go. I don’t think I could survive without him. Blinking at the thought, my head shifts barely to catch a glance at him. Almost like I was afraid of what he might do. What if he didn’t feel the same way about me?]

Mal:

I drank in his confession, a music to my ears that I’d never known I needed to hear. I’d had lovers before, hunters and humans alike, but they’d never made me feel like this. Like they were the sun and I was drifting into a new orbit. And I’d kissed the male /once/! I barely knew him. But I wanted to know him. All of him. And I only knew two words that would convey to him how badly I wanted it. More than I wanted to get back to the hunt.

“I’ll stay.”

The words left me on a whisper, but it was like a weight lifted off my chest as I said them. Relief washed through me as I watched him absorb them too, and then I was grinning, using the hand he’d placed against his chest to fist in his shirt and pull him closer again. Back to me. Back to my lips as I kissed him again, harder. Like I could pass on the giddy, elated vibes rocking my shit right now.

“Ow, fuck…”

I broke the kiss with the curse, my wings having lifted in the excitement and pulled at the fresh wound. Scowling, I shot the limb a mutinous glance then flicked my eyes back to Zsadist. He looked almost dazed, but his golden eyes were alive. So very alive. I found myself staring at them as I licked my lips.

“The sun will be up soon… I need to get outside,” I murmured regretfully, shifting to try and slide from the gurney. “I don’t suppose there are slings here? You can’t carry it outside for me. Then I guess… I’ll need to find a few gurneys down here to make a bed?” I muse ruefully, not presumptuous enough to invite myself into the manse. But I’d never tried to retract my wings with them injured. I honestly wasn’t sure I could.

Zsadist:

[I couldn’t help but let out a growl as the male tugged me in for a kiss that was way more passionate than the last. Totally getting lost in it, only to pull back when I hear him wince in pain. My brows draw in and I eye his wing. I hated the fact that he had to go outside. Yeah he was safe at the mansion, but what if something happens? I wouldn’t be able to come to his rescue. Grumbling at the thought as my head tilts to the side]

Be careful. [Looking around the PT suite before I let my eyes rest on the male’s again.] You can...sleep upstairs...in the mansion. [Hell Wrath might not like that, but how could I tell this male to sleep down here tonight. After he just not only saved my life but kissed me. Twice! My eyes focused on him as he slid off of the gurney. Hands outstretched incase I had to catch him. I hated that he was hurting and all because of me. Though I knew that he would be okay once he got some sun. Shifting out into the hallway with him, my eyes on his wings. I couldn’t get over them. They were breathtaking.]

I’ll talk to fritz about having him set up one of the guest rooms. You are...my guest. [My lips twitch at that before my eyes lifted to search his own.] Why don’t you follow me up and go out through the front door that way he can greet you when you come back inside, true? Speaking of...do you need me to carry your wing again?

[Was it an excuse to touch him again? Maybe. Did I really need an excuse? Not really. Snorting at the thought before I move to do it anyway. My fingers move through the feathers as I incline my head.] Head straight down that hallway. I got you.

[Hell I did have him. I couldn’t help but hear his words in my head over and over again. He was going to stay, but what did that mean? Stay and fight with us? Stay and...kiss me some more? My chest rumbles at the thought of that.]

Mal:

I was glad for the support as the male moved in, regardless of the question, and lifted my injured wing. A little sunlight and I’d at least, hopefully, be able to move the wing myself. If the tendons and muscles could just… knit themselves back together a touch, I could raise it to my back once more.

“A guest of the Brother Zsadist,” I murmured as we moved toward the door as one, smothering a wry grin. “I feel so important.”

I flashed him a teasing smile, the hall, a locked door and another tunnel passing in a blur until we were back in the mansion part of the grounds once more. The impressive entryway gleamed around us, but I had eyes only for the Brother as he helped me to the front door. Then the doggen appeared. He looked particularly aggrieved at my injured state, and if my wings surprised him, I couldn’t tell. Unflappable was most definitely the word to describe him.

“Masters, may I be of aid? The shutters have come down, I would hate for the my Lords to be caught out in the sun.”

Shooting Zsadist a bemused look, I shook my head.

“Thanks, my man, but I need the sunlight to heal. If you could let me back in though when I’m done, that’d be sweet,” I add, flashing him a big smile.

Doggen amused me. Don’t ask me why. They were a surreal thing, since I’d never known even one before this place and its warriors and halls of marble statues.

Zsadist:

[When we arrived upstairs the Doggen was already there to greet us. I swear Fritz always knew just about everything that was going on in the mansion. Slowly my hands dropped from the angel’s wing. Wishing I could help him outside without getting burnt to a crisp. Though my eyes never left him until the vestibule door was closed. Letting out a sigh as I turn my attention back towards the Doggen.]

He is my guest and will be heading upstairs after for some much needed rest. Please...make sure he is okay out there. If you need me, let me know. [Fritz smiled wide before bowing his head. “Of course, Sire. I’ll make sure he finds his way back inside.” With that said he heads off. But I couldn’t help myself from looking back at the closed door.

After a few moments I find myself heading up the grand staircase. I couldn’t get the angel out of my head. What if he needed me once he got back inside…? Scrubbing a hand over my skull trim as I make my way to my bedroom. Hell is this what it felt like to...care for another? I was fucked. That was for sure.

Once inside I’m greeted by the black cat that took up residence in my room. His body moved between my legs as I quickly made my way to the bathroom. I needed to just shower and wash the night off me then catch a few z’s. Hopefully with the male here in the mansion, I wouldn’t have any nightmares tonight.]

#SLS

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fullrangeofemotions · 4 years

Note

“ family isn’t who you’re born with, it’s who you’d die for. ”

sent by @ialwayswasthebest

Darkness pressed upon them, its cold fingers wanted to extinguish them before a fight could even start. However, Donna would not let it. Light would prevail, she thought, whispering a couple of words under her breath and setting the torches up in flames. Melisandre stood next to her, her spell lighting the rest of the trenches they had prepared, melting and chasing away the cold.

A hand slipped into hers and she startled for a second, turning her head and watched as Guy raised her hand up to his lips. “When they come, you hide, you hear me?” he told her, fear in his eyes, for her. She nodded, but she could not promise him that. They both knew they would need her magic for this. “Come back to me,” she muttered to him. “Always,” he promised and she held on to that promise.

The roar was their cue. Her hand fell back down to her side as he let her go, sending her one last look before he rushed to get to his place. Donna took a deep shuddering breath, focusing her gaze back out into the battlefield. At the same time, the two red priestesses began to chant and swords and arrows alighted.

Somewhere, Donna knew that Guy would be thinking, ‘that’s my girl’ and that gave her courage. A gust of wind blew her hood back and she looked up at the sky, smiling when she caught sight of white scales. In the distance she could see the white figures approaching. This was it.

It took but one second for chaos to erupt all around. Donna was not sure when or how, but fire and ice clashed with a deafening noise. Every time a fire was extinguished they relighted it. The ground shook with each roar of the dragons. Men were falling and she growled because no, not this time. With a swift movement she was unsheathing her small dagger, pressing it against her palm until blood began to run down, staining the melting snow red. Donna held her hand out and closed her eyes, muttering softly under her breath as she pulled, enticing the shadows to her, forcing them to do her bidding for a chance to taste her blood again. Pain erupted from her arm as invisible fangs sank into her flesh, but she made no sound. Her arms throbbed from the pain, limb going numb from coming into contact with the shadowed demon.

She was panting as the pain dimmed and the stabbing sensation left. Immediately she opened her eyes and watched as a blur jumped from place to place, allowing for their men to begin to push back.

Donna glanced around the battlefield, immediately finding Guy but the relief suddenly turned to dread. She watched him begin to get cornered, slowly being cut off from the rest of his men. There was a dread beginning to settle in the pit of her stomach and she began to run. She felt Melisandre reach out to her, try to stop her but Donna easily tugged her arm away and ran. She ran down the steps, panting and forcing her legs to go faster. Her lungs fought to take in oxygen as she pushed herself, spells slipping from her lips, spells she did not even realized she knew.

She could see him in the distance and for a second, their eyes locked. His eyes met hers and he froze, fear flashing over his face- and then his face was contorting into pain as a shard of ice burst from his chest. He grunted, pulling together enough strength to turn around and cut the thing’s head off, before slumping to the ground.

“NO!” the piercing scream left her lips and she rushed forward, falling next to him, cradling his head on her lap. A ring of fire suddenly burst around them, protecting them.

“You promised, you promised,” she hissed, tears streaming down her face as she pressed down on the wound, trying to stop the blood. She couldn’t lose him.

With a gasp, Donna startled away from the fire. She couldn’t stop shaking, tears streamed down her cheeks, the anguish….she choked down on a sob. It was not real. It was not real.

“But it will be.”

Donna had not realized she had been speaking out loud. Immediately she whirled around and glared at Melisandre. There was a knowing look in her eyes and Donna hated it.

“Not if I have something to say about it,” she stated, straightening her shoulders in determination. He would not die.

“It is the will of the Lord of Light,” Melisandre muttered, but Donna would not listened any of that crap. “He cannot have him, not him,” Donna muttered, turning her head to glare at the fire.

“It cannot be changed.”

Donna snarled at Melisandre, hating her more and more with each day that passed. She stormed away from the other priestess, afraid she would do something rash in her despair. She remembered the words he had told her when she had woken up in Asshai.

“ family isn’t who you’re born with, it’s who you’d die for. ”

When the time came, Donna knew what she needed to do. A life for a life. She placed her hand over her heart and took a deep shuddering breath. It would be her life for his. Donna was not afraid of dying if it meant he would get to live.

#ialwayswasthebest #grv. the night is dark and full of terrors #;voicemails #;drabble

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positivelyominous · 4 years

Text

Oxfordshire - 2008 AD (Again)

(Previous) (First)

Azruba’al stumbled hastily out of the cab and tugged nervously at his bowtie. To remove at least a little complication from the evening, he had assumed the form he’d first met the current generation of Sisters in. Cutting around the back of St. Beryl’s Church, Azruba’al jogged to the rear entrance, clutching the picnic basket tightly in his arms. There was a man sitting on the little terrace there, next to the dustbins, smoking a pipe and looking troubled. He glanced up at Azruba’al as he approached and made to greet him.

“Er, hullo–“

“So sorry, can’t stop to chat, very late.”

The man next to the dustbins watched the other man’s form disappear into the building. He let out a small, helpless puff of smoke. First the unexpected contractions, then the oddly behaving staff, and now some strange fellow in a big coat rushing through the back doors with a picnic basket. Mr. Young had liked the look of the hospital when he’d brought his wife inside; it was clean and modern -but not too modern- and the presence of the nuns gave it a warm, serene feeling. But now he was wondering if everything was all right after all…

⧗

“Blast that stupid machine,” Azruba’al snarled under his breath, striding through the empty hallway, “Half an hour late, I am half an hour late! Please don’t have started without– well, they wouldn’t, would they? I mean they couldn’–“

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he nearly ran right into a black-robed figure coming around the corner.

“Oh! Good grievance, I–“

“Master Azruba’al! You’ve come at last!”

The demon in question straightened up, a look of relief brightening his pudgy features.

“It’s so nice to see you again,” said the nun, who was known amongst her Sisters as Mary Loquacious*, and was preparing to live up to her name, “I was barely out of Sunday school the first time– Hell’s teeth, you haven’t aged a bit! I–“

“Yes, yes, it’s lovely to see you again too, dear girl,” Azruba’al interrupted, quickly. He knew what would happen if he let her pick up steam, “I am rather late, I believe?”

“Oh yes, forty-six minutes and twenty-six seconds exactly,” Mary replied, with a cursory glance at the watch pinned to her breast.

Azruba’al scowled, “Right, you’d best be quick about it, then.”

He pressed the basket into Mary’s arms, “Here he is. Get him to the Cultural Attaché as quick as you can.”

“Oh my star– this– it’s him? The Adversary? Destroyer of Kings? Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is Called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan and Lord of Dark–“

“Hell’s sake, yes! Yes, it’s him, now hop along, there’s a good girl,” cried Azruba’al, nearly pushing the woman back around the corner, “We don’t want him to be forty-seven minutes late, do we?”

“Of course not, Master Azruba’al,” said Mary Loquacious, lifting one of the lids of the basket to peek at the Long String of Epithets That We Shall Hence Refer To As The Adversary, “Ohh, look at him! He’s got his daddy’s complexion!”

“They’re all like that at first,” said Azruba’al absentmindedly.

“No horns, though,” she remarked.

“I’m leaving, now,” said Azruba’al, letting go of the woman’s shoulders.

“Too young for fangs, and– oh! Yes, Satan keep you! Good night!”

Azruba’al was gone before she’d finished speaking. Mary gave a little shiver of excitement and bustled quickly down the hall. She could hardly believe it. Here she was, Sister Mary Loquacious-You’d-Best-Not-Get-It-Wrong-Again, cradling The Adversary. For all her years as a Satanist -which were indeed all of them, having been born into the faith- she’d never imagined that she would be at the thick of their greatest hour. No more tea-and-cookies duty for her. Speaking of, she’d meant to take a tin to the American Cultural Attaché…

“There you are!”

Sister Mary’s thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a very flustered Sister Grace Voluble.

“They’re getting antsy in there, they think something’s wrong! Have you got the– oh, for Hell’s sake, Mary, just a tin! They don’t need a whole picnic!”

Mary glanced down in confusion before puffing up a little, smugly, “I don’t have cookies. I don’t have a picnic, either. What I’ve got is the One We’ve All Been Waiting For, The Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of––“

“Oh, thank the Fallen One,” interrupted Sister Grace, making to snatch the basket out of Mary’s hands.

Mary drew away, indignantly, “Master Azruba’al has entrusted me with the Child.”

Sister Grace looked as if she was about to argue, before thinking better of it.

“Well you had best get him to the nursery and tag him so we can deliver him to his ‘parents’. We can’t pretend to be weighing them forever.”

Mary nodded primly and marched towards the nursery.

There is a game teachers use to explain probability to their pupils. Each child receives a chart and a bag with a variable amount of red and blue tokens inside. They are instructed to remove a single token from the bag without looking, note its colour on the chart, then put it back in and repeat to their hearts content†. The point of the exercise is to show that the probability of drawing a red token or a blue token changes depending on how many of each token there are. For example, if there were two blue tokens, and one red token, it would be less likely to draw out the red token without looking. It would be even less likely, say, if someone painted the red token blue by mistake. Even if you were looking straight at the tokens, you wouldn’t be able to tell them apart.

There were three rosy-pink babies in three blue swaths resting in three hospital bassinets. Sister Mary had just wheeled in the last one, the most important one, and was heading towards the worktable for a pen and a tag. At that moment, another Sister entered.

“Mary! What are you doing in– oh! That’s all three, thank Bowels, we can finally send them off!”

Before Mary could protest that she hadn’t tagged the Adversary yet, and what if he got misplaced, the newly arrived Sister was chivying her out of the room, insisting she get those biscuits.

Mary let out a deep, disappointed sigh as the nursery door slammed behind her. Well. At least she’d get to meet the Cultural Attaché.

⧗

Mr. Young had returned to room three by this time. He found his wife asleep, and no baby to speak of. Luckily, a nearby nun explained that the child had been taken away to be examined, and Mr. Young decided it best to retire to his wife’s side in case she woke up and panicked in the interim. By the time his son was finished being ‘examined’ and was delivered into the grateful arms of a flustered Mrs. Young, Mr. Young felt as if he’d been there for an eternity. And it was about to get longer.

“Hello! Oh, your Lady wife’s awake, then, good!”

Another nun was bustling into the room, bringing with her a tin and the air of someone who was about to sit down for a long, enthusiastic chat.

⧗

Harriet Dowling was laying in a cot in room four, surrounded by a complement of six security men in imposing black uniforms. One of them was carrying the latest and greatest in videotelephone technology, through which Harriet was meant to see her husband, the American Cultural Attaché. Thaddeus Dowling was technically on the line. He just wasn’t there visually. Spiritually, he was sandwiched next to his wife with a cool cloth and a strong hand to squeeze. Physically, he was on a business trip.

It was Sister Faith Prolix who was the first to congratulate Harriet, and, coincidentally, the first to suggest a name for the baby now cradled comfortably in his mothers arms.

Wormwood was a bit unconventional, yes, but the kindly Sister Faith was ever so convincing. Besides, Harriet didn’t much feel like naming the child ‘Thaddeus’ at that point.

⧗

The demon Azruba’al hurried through the night, too distracted to even think of calling another cab. He needed to make an urgent phonecall. A phonecall his people wouldn’t be too pleased about, but hopefully one they’d never discover.

⧗

There was a third baby. It didn’t have a tag, and presumably, didn’t need one.

Sister Constance Pleonastic had it in the backseat of the church’s old station wagon, driving it down the darkened midnight road. There were only two families, after all.

“I really can’t believe it’s finally come,” she prattled on to herself, faithfully upholding her convent’s chiefest tradition, “What a time to be alive. My grandmother would have killed to be in my place… if those Warrens hadn’t got her first.”

There was an orphanage in the nearby town. There was also a lake. The baby in the backseat was growing fussy. It could feel that something was wrong, somehow. This was not the same dark, rumbling thing it had been in before, and the endless, droning voice did not belong to the gentle hands that had wrapped it in soft blue.

It wasn’t quite ready to be the The Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is Called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan and Lord of Darkness. It wouldn’t be for another eleven years. It did, however, possess something of a defence mechanism to ensure that it at least had a chance of getting there.

And so it was that at that moment precisely, a large black cat came padding out of the bushes on the side of the road and into Sister Constance’s headlights.

The cat yowled. The station wagon swerved.

GOOD EVENING, SISTER CONSTANCE, said Death, helping a very dazed Sister Constance Pleonastic up from her body, I AM SURE YOU ARE VERY DISAPPOINTED. BUT TAKE HEART THAT YOU WILL STILL HAVE A SEAT TO THE FINAL SPECTACLE, EVEN IF IT IS LOWER THAN THE ONE YOU HAD PREVIOUSLY.

After sending the unfortunate woman on her way, Death was preparing to leave for his next appointment when something else at the scene caught his attention. Not a death; those were a constant everywhere you went. Creatures big and small; something was always dying. No, this thing was quite unorthodox, as it existed in the living world. There was wailing from the backseat of the ruined car. A wailing that Death would have ignored, had it not come from this particular source.

Death knelt in the wreckage, gently pushed aside the cushion of airbags, and lifted a blue bundle into his arms.

I DID NOT EXPECT US TO MEET SO SOON, he said, thoughtfully, as the child immediately quieted in his embrace, BUT I SUPPOSE IT IS NOT AGAINST THE RULES. I HAVE YET TO RIDE. AND YOU HAVE YET TO CALL ME.

Even still, the child needed protection. It needed a home.

Without another word, Death drew a pitch-black wing of oblivion over the infant, and the both of them disappeared, leaving nothing behind but the smouldering wreck.

———————————————————————————————————

*It was called a Chattering Order for a reason. To explain it properly, however, one would have to do the authorial equivalent of joining up. Hopefully, the name says it all.

†Certain hearts grow content faster than others.

#good omens #reverse omens #Bearing Apples (Azruba’al)#Remains of the Day (DEATH)#Vademecum Casus Belli (Chattering Order)

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