#The energies of it is probably what burned off Raven's clothes. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whorediaries-09 · 2 months

Note

girl here's ur request again bc you probably lost it in the amazing algorithm of tumblr. i still do it for you, babe 🩷 sirius black x reader fic with somnophilia and choking? pretty please with a cherry on top? also, WE MIGHT JUST GET AWAY WITH THIS RELIGION'S IN YOUR LIPS EVEN IF IT'S A FALSE GOD

i didn't loose your previous request(s) my love, i was planning to post them on the valentine's week. anyways that is quite beside the point because imma write this one too. enjoyy.

streets;

pairing- sirius black x reader warning(s)- 18+ content. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- set during ootp, cause i CANNOT resist dilf sirius 😔. sorry not sorry haha.

the slut club

no final fantasy, can we end these games though? you give me energy, make me feel light weigh

it was a nefariously lustful dream. you grinded against the hard object that provided you the friction against your pussy. a sinful sleepy groan left your mouth. you could feel the hotness creep under your skin as you felt your stomach tug with the familiar coil of ecstasy. you felt yourself arch against nothing, trying to let the coil boiling inside you snap, drive you to an edge of insanity.

it the fire in your nerves felt more real than a dream. it was like a consuming blue flame. you could feel the warmth of the musk infused breathe on your neck. you could feel the rough callousness of his hands across the skin of your thighs. you could feel the cold metal of his rings slide across your hot skin, rubbing over your inner thighs. it felt too real to be a dream.

'open your pretty eyes for me love, i need to see your eyes when i make you cum,'

your eyes fluttered open, when it finally dawned upon you. you met the gray eyes you'd been dreaming about. you met the warmth of the body you'd been wanting. you met the touch you'd been dreaming about. you met the one who's name rolled off your tongue with the sweetest sin of pleasure.

'sirius?' you asked, fazed, as his fingers roamed on your clit through your underwear. he leaned closer to you, simultaneously pulling you closer, shuffling on your sheets, barring his pearly white teeth. his knees locked themselves on the either side of your waist, keeping you in place. he took out his fingers from between your thighs, sucking his digits off your arousal. that earned him a guttural moan from your mouth.

'i've heard you moan my name so many times before. when you get your pretty mind dumb with dirty thoughts and play with yourself,' he said, a glimpse of malice in his stormy gray eyes. your heart burned in anticipation. the line between your dreams and reality crashed, when he wrapped his hands around your waist, manhandling you to sit on him, your knees on the either side of his hips.

you felt his growing erection through his pants on your wet core. his well defined pectorals had intricate designs of tattoos inked upon traced thin lines of healed wounds. the thin strands of gray hair hidden between raven locks reflected under the moonlight.

heinously, he grabbed your throat, his fingers pressing lightly on your arteries. he pulled you closer, so your mouth was in line with his lips. he smiled coyly, as if mocking you.

'tell me what you want,' you whimpered as you felt him buck his hips your clothed core. hotness of euphoria lust crept under your skin. he brushed his lips with yours, increasing the force on your artery with each passing second.

'i need you to fuck me,' you whispered. the embarrassment of the situation had dissipated. it was just the bubbling covet of bliss which simmered into every inch of your body.

so when he captured your lips with his teeth, dissolving you into his very soul, devouring you while ripping apart your underwear, your head was fazed. your fingers tugged at the waistband of his pants, freeing out his cock. he pushed himself inside you, stretching you out perfectly, causing a broken moan for him to swallow. he increased the force on your throat, blocking your supply of oxygen.

he thrusted into you, blurring the lines between the real and the fake. the summer air cooled upon your hot skin, as the hair on his pelvis rubbed on your clit. you felt yourself melt with his touch as he thrusted into you. he left your lips, a string of saliva connecting your kiss bitten lips.

you chanted his name like a fucking mantra, your moans and whimpers broken by the force of his hand around your throat. the cool metal of his rings contrasted against your hot skin. you lost yourself into cloud nine, in his heaven like eyes. he was a drug, a dream an overdose of sinful heaven.

it was sweetness and danger, when you felt the coil of orgasm bubble inside you again. your mind was dizzy with the lack of oxygen. you rolled your hips, as his cock hit your sweet spot just right. the scream got caught in your throat, and you rolled your eyes. you felt your toes curl, and thighs shake as your euphoric pleasure hit you. you clenched your walls around his cock, releasing your juices on his stomach.

he pounded into you, his hand leaving your throat, as you came down from the high, your lungs savoring in the supply of air. you hid your face into the crook of his neck, sinking your teeth into the soft flesh. you heard his soft gasps and felt his cock twitch inside you. you rolled your hips, urging him to release himself inside you. he bit your shoulder, as he came, painting your insides with hot ropes of cum.

the final fantasy had melted into a reality, as you fell beside his heaving body, your thighs slick and sticky.

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black smut #the marauders #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #marauders era #sirius black thoughts #sirius black x oc #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanart #sirius being sirius #sirius black fluff #sirius black angst #fanfiction #james & peter & remus & sirius

147 notes · View notes

foxgloveblue · 1 year

Text

pale in a liminal moon 🌙 chapter 16

Pairing: Grian/Scar

Tags: selkie AU, steampunk AU, enemies to lovers, slow burn

Summary: Scar shows Grian around the house, and long-forgotten things are remembered.

Words: 4,239

previous chapter || next chapter

ao3 link || masterpost

The walk back to the beach house was very easy, mostly because Scar didn’t have to do it.

He rode piggyback the entire way, head tucked into the crook of Grian’s neck. He didn’t even have enough energy to properly appreciate the scenery of their little getaway – in fact, it took everything he had not to fall asleep to the steady rhythm of Grian’s footsteps.

He honestly could not believe how drained he felt. Yes, he had fallen a little behind on his physical therapy – okay, a lot behind – but even still, a short stint of exercise like this shouldn’t completely wipe him out. Even back in his uni days, when the only treatment he could afford was a hot pad and prayers, he still managed to get his crunches in without needing to skip class for a nap.

He really did hope that he had gotten so tired from all the magic, because otherwise, it probably meant that he was getting old.

His suspicions about aging were not denied when he suddenly awoke with a start, jolting upright from where he had been lying down on a couch. His face went a little hot as he scrubbed some drool from his face, taking in his surroundings with a furtive glance. They had made it back to the house, the little living room now dust-free. The sea-blue curtains had been drawn back to reveal the golden beams of the setting sun in all their glory, the bay window practically glowing with the intensity of the light.

Illuminated by this glow was Grian. He was curled up in a loveseat across from Scar, nose-deep in his book. He hadn’t bothered getting re-dressed save for Scar’s old sweater, which hung softly on his frame.

Scar was struck by the similarity of the scene to when he had first met Grian – he was sitting in the same odd position, like he had never been taught how to sit in a chair. And yet, everything else was different. His posture was relaxed, obviously comfortable rather than painfully tense. Even his clothes seemed to fit better, ironically – Doc had put him in a perfectly-tailored suit, but Scar’s oversized sweater had become so ubiquitous with Grian that he now really thought of it as Grian’s sweater. Most striking of all, however, was his face. As Grian read, little micro-expressions would flit across his visage, easy to read for someone who knew him well. Scar could almost picture what was happening in the book – like, right now, someone was clearly pissing Grian off, his brow growing furrowed and his nose scrunching cutely.

Grian’s dark eyes flitted up to meet Scar’s gaze. Oh, shit. Maybe it had been him.

But then Grian’s irritation melted away into a bemused smirk. “You’re finally up.”

Scar coughed, clearing his throat from the post-nap phlegm. “Uh, yeah. How long was I out?”

Grian shrugged. “I dunno. An hour, maybe? I wasn’t really paying attention.”

Scar eyed the window. It had definitely been more than an hour – either that, or their little ocean adventure had lasted even longer than Scar had thought. Regardless, Scar felt much better, though he was ravenously hungry.

As if reading his mind – nether, at this point, Scar wouldn”t be surprised if Grian actually could read his mind – Grian inclined his head and said, “I think dinner is going to be ready soon. Grumbot and the others have been making… something.”

Well that didn’t sound reassuring. Scar eyed the door to the kitchen nervously. The servant-bots were all programmed with some of the finest recipes, and Scar had entrusted them with his meals for years now. Grumbot, on the other hand, had proven himself a rogue agent. Who knew what he could be influencing the others to do?

Grian didn’t look nearly as concerned as Scar felt though, returning to his book without fanfare. Scar was probably overthinking it. Hopefully.

Unfortunately, unlike Grian, Scar didn’t have an easily-accessible means of distracting himself. There were no other books in the living room, and even if there were, Scar didn’t feel like getting a reading headache right now.

Sitting up properly, Scar saw that Grian had retrieved his clothes, cane, and leg braces, though had tossed them rather messily onto a nearby ottoman. He grimaced in irritation – hopefully the servant-bots would be able to hear him calling from here over the hustle of the kitchen.

“If you need help, you can just ask.” Grian said, a teasing lilt to his voice. “I really don’t mind giving you a hand, especially considering I basically forced you out of those clothes anyhow.”

Scar blushed at the accidental innuendo. “Oh, sure. That sounds grand.”

Setting his book down, Grian gathered up Scar’s clothes and approached him with the same posture and expression that one might have when about to wrap a particularly delightful present.

Scar had to admit that the re dressing was much less sensual, though no less embarrassing. Grian seemed to take the whole thing in stride. Honestly, he even seemed somewhat amused by Scar’s flustered state. It wouldn’t shock him.

As Grian slipped Scar’s last shoe on, completing the transformation, Scar sat up straighter in an attempt to recover some of his dignity. “Would you like a house tour while we wait for dinner?” He offered. “I feel like I owe you one after that whole… debacle when you first showed up to the manor.”

Grian laughed. “You mean when you accidentally made me super sick by keeping me far from my skin?”

Scar grimaced at the reminder. “Yes, that.”

“‘S alright. I think it was worth it to see how nervous it made Doc.” Grian smirked. “He really thought I was gonna die, y’know. Started cursing up and down about how stupid he had been to entrust his most precious asset to such a fool.”

Scar stared at him. “He really said that?”

“Oh, sure. He doesn’t exactly think highly of you – told that little buddy of his that you were the kind of guy to get his head stuck in la-la-land and throw money at whatever caught your attention for half a second.”

“Bastard.” Scar growled.

“Though I bet he’s really regretting sending me to you now.” Grian chuckled. “I mean, really. If all your friends know about our little marriage, surely he does too. What on earth must he think?”

“He probably thinks that you’ve put some kind of… spell on me.” Scar eyed him. “I mean, have you?”

Grian rolled his eyes hard enough that his dark irises practically disappeared. “Oh, please. If I had some kind of… seduction magic, don’t you think I would’ve used it to make you let me go on like, the second day? Or that I would’ve just used it on Doc, for that matter?”

Scar grunted in affirmation – he did have a point.

Grian’s eyes suddenly narrowed, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “No, Scar, whatever feelings you have about me are completely regular emotions, spurred on by my entirely natural charm.”

This time, Scar’s grunt came out rather choked. He tried to pass it off as a cough, delicately bringing a handkerchief up to his lips to wipe away nonexistent phlegm, but he was pretty sure that Grian didn’t find it the least bit convincing.

“Do you want to have a house tour or not?” He finally managed, voice laden with embarrassment.

“Sure.” Grian laughed, the sound lilting and unfortunately very attractive, the realization of which did nothing to lessen Scar’s flustered state. “Don’t want to finish my book too fast anyhow.”

“Wonderful!” Scar clapped his hands together excitedly. “I haven’t been here in a couple of years, but I’m sure I still remember my way around. It’s not a terribly big house anyhow.”

Grabbing his cane, Scar began to lead Grian through the small house. As they walked, Scar realized that he did indeed remember the layout, and was happy to share the details of the design and history of the building.

Grian seemed interested, though stayed largely quiet. He seemed content to absorb the information being presented to him, though Scar wasn’t entirely sure that he was actually listening.

They even peeked their heads into the kitchen. Scar had prepared a whole spiel about the tilework in his head, but as soon as he looked inside, he instantly forgot what he had been meaning to say.

Grumbot had indeed awoken the other servant-bots, and the little automatons were bustling around the kitchen, busy preparing what looked to be a multi-course meal. Scar eyed the full pots and pans that passed him by nervously – there weren’t a ton of ingredients in the house, after all, since they all had to be kept as preserves. He recognized most of the food they were using, but startled when he spotted a frying pan that had what looked to be several filets of fish searing away.

“Uh, Grumbot?” He called. The modified servent-bot spun around from where it had been contemplating some kind of sauce, fixing Scar with an unblinking stare. “Where did you get that fish?”

Grumbot rolled over, and even over the bustle of the kitchen, Scar could hear its mechanical insides whirring away with a response. Sure enough, a paper printed out. Scar grabbed it, slowly reading the contents aloud. “Grian caught it.”

He shot Grian an incredulous look. There wasn’t any fishing tackle in the house as far as he knew. “You did? With what?”

Grian grinned at him, wicked and sharp. “My mouth.”

Scar probably should’ve found the ensuing mental image disturbing, but honestly, he just found it hot.

Putting the strange new revelations about himself aside, Scar hurried onto the rest of the house tour, bringing Grian through the remaining rooms. Scar tried to give as much detail about the various decorations and furnishings, but honestly, after the kitchen incident he was finding it a little hard to concentrate.

That was until they got to the master bedroom. It was by far Scar’s favorite room, every detail designed by none other than himself. Eschewing the lighter colors of the rest of the house, the room was decorated in a stunning deep ocean blue, accented by copper filigree. Even the bed frame was custom-built, made of a light wood that he had stained that same blue.

Grian wasted no time climbing onto that bed, laying himself out on the satin-soft comforter. It probably would’ve irritated Scar, but he was too busy picturing a seal laying itself out to sun.

“Comfortable, right?” Scar laughed. “Though I’m sure you’ve already gotten used to my taste in sheets. I’m rather picky, I’ll admit.”

Grian grunted in agreement, but seemed more interested in whatever was sitting on Scar’s nightstand. He rolled over to more closely examine it, even going so far as to take it in his hands. “What’s this?”

Scar had to peer over his shoulder. “Well, I think that’s – oh.”

He had… forgotten this was in his room. Gazing at the small object, he had the sudden sensation of the floor dropping out from beneath him, his stomach roiling painfully at the sight.

“Scar?” Came Grian’s voice. It sounded further away, somehow. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine, I just… I was just caught off guard.” Scar sat heavily on the edge of the bed. “Old memories, you know?”

Grian made a soft, concerned noise. “Do you need me to put it back, or…?”

“No, no.” Scar forced out a laugh, but it rang hollow. “It’s just a clock, after all.”

“If you’re sure.” Grian shifted his position so that he was sitting next to Scar. The clock was still sitting in his hands. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Scar let out a breath. “It’s a bit of a long story.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Scar laughed – even when he was trying to be comforting, Grian still managed to be bossy.

He allowed his gaze to fully fall to the clock itself. The body was made of copper wires, slender little things that had been wrapped around themselves to create a solid, twisting tree trunk. The wires then branched off into foliage, the leaves made of tiny, delicate gears that nevertheless remained strong and unbroken.

The clock was now old enough that the body had begun to oxidize. The branches had turned first, the leaves now a beautiful teal color that was slowly but steadily creeping down into the trunk.

The clock face itself, however, remained unchanged. It was nestled in the trunk of the tree, its pristine white surface untouched by the encroaching patina. Most impressively of all, it still worked. The second hand still ticked forward, the quiet sound somehow deafening to Scar’s ears. It created a strange paradox – excellent craftsmanship paired with a wild, careless creation, made entirely from intuition.

“Scar?” Grian prompted.

“Yeah, sorry, sorry.” Scar sighed again, gently taking the clock from Grian’s hands. “The long and short of it is that I made this clock with my dad, back when I was a kid.”

“I didn’t know you made clocks.”

“I don’t.” Scar laughed. “Despite his best efforts. He did the hard parts, actually constructing the damn clock. I just made the tree around it.”

Grian cocked his head. “I dunno. I don’t think I could make a tree like that.”

“It’s not so hard. Just takes a little practice.” When Grian gave him a look, Scar relented. “Alright, alright. A lot of practice, I guess. But I had plenty of time.”

Grian rested his head in his hand, looking up at Scar with those dark, inquisitive eyes.

Scar hesitated, running his tongue over his teeth nervously. “I don’t know how much you saw into my memories. You might already know all this stuff.”

Grian shrugged. “Try me.”

“Alright…” Scar took a deep, shaky breath. “Well, when I was a little kid, I was a total hellion. Always climbing stuff, sneaking into places I wasn’t supposed to go, causing trouble for all my neighbors. But my real love was the outdoors – I always wanted to go out on holiday to the countryside, swim in the ocean and explore the forests. I think a lot of parents would’ve been grateful for that; out of the house, y’know? But not my dad. He really, really wanted me to learn how to make clocks. Take over the family business and all that. But… I don’t know. That mechanical know-how always eluded me. I was way more into going on my own adventures.

“But when I was eight, I got sick. Really sick.” He hesitated for a moment. “I guess… you probably know what polio is, right?”

“I’ve heard of it.”

“Well, for most people who get polio, it’s nothing too terrible. A fever, a bad cough, things like that. But if you’re unlucky, like me, there are other effects. Your muscles get weak. You lose the ability to walk, to move your arms – some of the kids I knew couldn’t even breathe. Had to be hooked into these gigantic machines. Iron lungs. But I’m – I’m getting ahead of myself.” Scar shook his head, as if to ward away the memories.

“When I started having trouble moving, I was stuck in my flat for long, long periods of time. Literally stuck – my dad and I lived above his shop, on the second story. I couldn’t go anywhere. I’ve always struggled with reading, so to pass the time, I tried to finally learn how to make clocks. Long story short, I just couldn’t do it. I mean, I could, but I hated it. I really struggled to concentrate on all the little mechanical details, since the only thing I really wanted to do was go outside again.

“So, after a bit, I started making… other things. Little sculptures out of the clock materials. I made trees, flowers, animals – all the things that I missed seeing. Eventually, as I got better at it, I’d even make entire scenes. I’d incorporate paper and make dioramas of city streets, magnificent mountains, whatever was in my imagination that day. My dad was… I don’t know. At first I think he was irritated that I wasn’t learning how to make clocks, but as I got worse… I think he finally understood that this was my way of coping.

“So when I had to be sent to a sanitarium, my dad made sure to pack a ton of little bits from his shop. Let me tell you, at the hospital, that cheap copper wire was more valuable than gold. The other kids there loved it. Especially the animals. I wonder how many people still have my little statues, if they even know they have a patented Scar creation.” He smiled, eyes going misty with the memories. “It felt really special to be able to brighten people’s days like that.”

“I’m sure.” Grian said quietly. “I’m glad you found a way to make that place less scary.”

Scar laughed. “I don’t know what terrible things you’ve heard about sanitariums, but the one I went to wasn’t so bad. It was beautiful, honestly; it was basically a big house in the mountains that had been turned into a hospital for kids. The doctors were super nice – well, most of them anyway. I made a lot of friends. The… the only scary days were the ones where we’d lose people. ‘Specially the little ones. That was hard on everyone.”

Scar sniffled, and he ducked his head away as he scrubbed at his face. He hadn’t thought about that time of his life in a long, long while, and was surprised by the swell of emotion that had suddenly overtaken him.

There was a warm pressure on his knee, and Scar realized that Grian was squeezing it reassuringly. With a prickle, the bond that had been lying quietly to the side flared up, once more allowing a surge of emotions to crash through Scar. It felt almost like warm water was rushing around him, embracing him in a comforting hold. “I’m sorry for bringing all this up.”

“No, no, it’s alright. It’s good to remember things sometimes.” Straightening up, Scar cleared his throat. “Anyway – when I got home, my dad wanted to make this with me.” He ran his thumb over the grooves of the copper wire, feeling the rough edges of the patina prickle over his skin. “He wasn’t necessarily an expressive person, but… I feel like this was his way of accepting me. Accepting that I wasn’t going to be what he had wanted me to be, but he was okay with that. Or maybe he just wanted another clock for his collection – void only knows with that man.”

“What about now?” Grian asked. “Is he happy now that you’re a veritable emperor?”

Scar laughed. “I have a feeling he wouldn’t be too pleased. He always liked the simple life. But I guess I’ll never know for sure. He, um… he passed away while I was at college.”

“Oh, I’m… I’m sorry to hear that.”

Scar stared at his hands. “It’s okay. I’ve had a lot of time to process it, and I think I’m… I’m mostly okay now. As okay as someone can ever be, I guess. ‘S probably why I freaked out so much over that silly clock. It just caught me off guard. Brought up a lot of old feelings.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” Grian rested his head on Scar’s shoulder. “I guess I’ve been lucky. I haven’t lost anyone close to me like that.”

“Sure, but you’ve had to leave people behind, right? Your parents, Iskall… that’s its own special kind of torture.”

Grian snorted softly. “I don’t think this game of who’s had it worse will go anywhere nice.”

“That’s fair.” Scar let his head droop, resting his chin on Grian’s hair. Despite his earlier dip in the ocean, the locks were soft on his skin. “I guess that we can say that we’ve both loved and lost, right?”

“Sure. Though honestly, that’s just part of being alive.”

Scar hummed in agreement, though his mind was still turning Grian’s words over. He supposed even happy endings couldn’t last, that one way or another all bonds between people would be broken by the march of time.

“Hey.” Scar was startled out of his thoughts by a hard pinch on his leg, which made him jump badly enough that he jabbed Grian in the head with his chin. “Hey!”

“That wasn’t my fault!” He protested as Grian reared back, rubbing where Scar had hit him. “You were the one who started it!”

Grian just stuck his tongue out at him. “I was trying to get you out of your own head. For a person who hates reading, you sure do think a lot.”

“I don’t hate reading, it just gives me a headache. And for a person who reads a lot, you sure… are… you’re very feisty.”

Grian snorted. “Are you trying to insult me or flirt with me?”

Before Scar’s brain could catch up with his mouth, he blurted out “Why not both?”

Grian stared at him for a second before bursting into laughter. Scar’s cheeks grew hot. He had no idea if Grian thought they were just joking around, or even if he actually was joking, but either way he felt embarrassed.

“C’mon, you.” Grian managed after his laughter died down a little. “Let’s go check if dinner’s ready. I’m ready to eat my prey.”

There was no way Scar was going to be able to sleep.

The tiredness from earlier in the day had all but vanished, and Scar was left with a restless energy that set his limbs abuzz.

It was the kind of energy that Scar would’ve loved to walk off – taking a nightime stroll down by the shore honestly sounded nice – but his braces were already off. He was sure that if he called loud enough, a servant-bot would be able to help him put them back on, but he didn’t want to risk waking Grian up.

Grian. That was his real problem right there.

He was sure that his nap didn’t help with his unusual abundance of energy, but truth be told, he was sure that the reason he was so restless was because of Grian. Thoughts of the man crowded his mind. Every time he tried to close his eyes, all he saw was Grian, Grian, Grian.

He had known Grian for several weeks now, but still struggled to understand the man. He had been so sure that his accidental invasion of Grian’s memories would’ve set the man into a furious rage, but instead it had only seemed to strengthen the bond between them.

Had it been something that Grian saw in his memories? Some choice moment that endeared Scar to him? Or… had Scar himself changed? Had he begun acting different since he had gotten a glimpse into Grian’s past?

He just wasn’t sure. He didn’t think he had been acting differently, and yet… he felt different, somehow. Felt more alive. Like he was beginning to understand some deeper truth that he had been blind to for so, so long.

But that real shape of that truth still eluded him. He felt like he was missing something very, very important, something that he was on the edge of remembering, but still couldn’t quite grasp. It was infuriating.

And that wasn’t even touching on the matter of what had happened today. This amazing, terrifying day. Scar had gotten to touch something beautiful and so, so real – and that had broken some kind of dam in him. Some kind of barrier that left him vulnerable and open, willing to share painful memories and experiences with a person he was only beginning to know.

There was a soft click from behind him, and Scar sat up, a flash of alarm shooting hot fear through his veins. After a brief moment, the door to the bedroom swung open.

It was hard to see, the only light coming from the crescent moonlight that spilled through the thrown-open curtains. Even still, Scar could recognize the edge of Grian’s form. He stood silent at the threshold, completely motionless as he hung in the liminal space.

“Grian?” Scar called uncertainly.

Grian stayed silent. It almost looked like he wasn’t breathing at all.

“Is everything okay?” Scar asked, his voice trailing off at the end. “Grian?”

All at once, Grian sprung into motion, approaching Scar with long, quick strides. Scar’s heart began to pound as he scrambled back against his headboard, some deep-rooted instinct taking over his body.

Grian didn’t stop at the edge of the bed, either. Without even hesitating, he practically leapt onto the bed, crawling over Scar until their faces were inches apart. This close, Scar could see Grian’s eyes – they were wide and wild, his jaw tense with hunger.

“Grian, what…?” Scar managed to choke out. It was hard to hear himself over the roaring in his ears.

Grian leaned in even closer, their noses brushing against each other. “I want to kiss you.”

What?

“What?” Scar managed to squeak out.

“I want to kiss you.” Grian repeated. His breath was hot on Scar’s skin, and he could see Grian’s eyes drop to his lips. Scar unconsciously licked them. “Can I?”

For once, Scar’s mind felt blank. Only one word was on his mind.

“Yes.” he whispered, and Grian pressed forward.

#scarian #hermitshipping #hermitshipblr #hermitcraft fanfic #my art #my writing #pale in a liminal moon #pialm

3 notes · View notes

ignitedbynatsu · 3 years

Text

He Makes You Feel Insecure ~ Rogue

A/N: let it be known that I finally managed to update at the deadline I set myself 🥳 I'm so sorry I was gone this past week but college was getting hella busy so I had to focus on that this past week but I'm backkk. Thanks to everyone who stuck around, I missed you all and can't wait to get to the requests ❤️

Genre: angst to fluff

Warnings: swearing, insecurities (he makes you feel too childish)

Other versions:

Gray ~ Laxus ~ Cobra/Erik ~ Bickslow ~ Gajeel ~ Natsu ~ Jellal ~ Freed ~ Sting

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

A loud crash could be heard followed by your and Sting's laughter filling the guild. You quickly fled the scene and hid behind Rogue while stifling your laughter.

You had played the oldest prank in the book on Minerva. A water bucket on a half-open door. You'll never understand how the brilliant mage fell for that one, but she did, resulting in you hiding from her wrath.

"(Y/N)! Sting!" Minerva screeched as the water dripped down her hair.

"We're sorry Minerva-san, we just couldn't pass the opportunity" you apologize on your and Sting's behalf, but it was nowhere near sincere As you both were still doing everything in your power to not burst out in laughter. It wasn't even that funny, but to you and Sting it was hilarious.

"I swear I'm dating a child" the annoyance that was latched on to the words made you immediately stop laughing. Surely he didn't mean for it to come out that harsh, right?

"I'm sorry, what was that" a soft smile still playing on your lips, but that was quickly wiped off when you met his cold gaze.

"I said that you're fucking childish, (Y/N). It was bad enough having Sting act this way, but with you encouraging him and even joining him? I feel like I'm in a fucking daycare. Grow up, will you" Sting laughter also died down as he saw his friend take his frustrations out on you. "Hey, man, that's not cool-"

"No, Sting, it's fine. I- uh- I'll see you all tomorrow" even Minerva shook her head in disappointment as she observed your slumped shoulders as you left the guild. She didn't miss the tears starting to form either.

The rest of the day everyone felt that they were walking on eggshells around Rogue, not daring to get on his bad side. They felt bad for you. Sure you could be a little annoying with all the pranks you pulled, but they all knew it was just good fun. You never meant any harm and just wanted to make the guild feel a little more like home.

That homeyness that you seemed to bring everywhere you went, was gone the next day. Your usual colourful outfits were replaced by dull grey and black clothes. They even were certain that they hadn't seen you crack a smile once that day.

"Hey, (Y/N)! I got this amazing idea for a prank and-" you interrupted Sting before he could elaborate his grand idea "thank you, Sting, but I'll have to decline."

You had never refused a prank before, nor had he ever heard you talk that formal "that's it"

You raised an eyebrow at him as he stormed off to God knows where.

You hated turning him down. After all, you had been itching all day to break this facade, but it was for the best. It'll pay off in the long run you kept telling yourself. After all, you couldn't imagine a world where you'd have to live without Rogue. So if that meant you'd have to change your personality a little bit, you wouldn't even hesitate to make that sacrifice.

Meanwhile, Sting had left to go find Rogue. He knew that his best friend was the only one who could put an end to this "is this what you wanted?"

"I have no clue what you are talking about" Rogue replied as he turned around to meet the fuming blonde.

"You seriously don't see how miserable you made (Y/N)?" He scoffed as Rogue looked around to spot you. It took him some time as he did not expect you to wear something so... Colourless. "You haven't even spoken to her today, have you?"

"I decided that I was way out of line yesterday and that I should give her some time" he explained. Did you really think you needed to change just to please him?

"How kind of you" Rogue was surprised by the sweet words coming out of Sting's mouth, but when he turned back to the said boy he was met by a harsh glare "now go fix it"

"What if I make it worse" the guilty was slowly eating him alive as he dared to steal another glance at you.

"You can't possibly make it worse than it already is" Sting dismissed his insecurities

"Fro thinks so too!" Rogue's head snapped towards the Exceed "Frosch?"

"It's three against one here" Lector also piped up as the three stared at him expectingly.

The raven-haired sighed, knowing he should do something to fix his mistakes, so he took a deep breath, gathered all his courage and headed towards his girlfriend. He never thought he'd feel this scared again to talk to you.

"(Y/N)... Can we talk?" He wanted to sound confident but when you looked at him and not even spared him a small smile, he felt like he wanted to sink back into the shadows.

"Of course, what is it you'd like to talk with me about?" Rogue cringed how smooth your tone was. No unnecessary intonation, no shouting, no expression. Everything was dull and blank.

"Why are you acting like this" your eyes went wide for a second. Were you still not living up to his expectations? Was it too little? Too much? You had no clue.

"I'm afraid I don't understand what you are talking about" you replied swiftly, covering up any traces of emotions you had just shown. "Did you not want me to stop acting like a child?"

"Yes, but-" "and is what I'm doing not exactly that what you asked me to do?" "Yeah... But-" Rogue was getting frustrated, but he knew he had no right to snap at you again.

"Then I don't see the relevance of this conversation. I'll be heading home now. I'll see you tomorrow" with that you placed a kiss on his cheeks and headed back out of the guild.

Rogue's attempts at covering up his frustration were in vain as you could read him like an open book. Afraid to get yelled at again you hastily decided to head back home. Ready to scream or punch something just to get your own frustrations out.

After the failed attempts of him making it up to you, you managed to put up your facade for a week, until one day you just didn't show up. You didn't notify Sting or Rogue in advance, which you normally do, you were just too tired to deal with anyone.

"Has (Y/N) told you she wasn't coming today?" Rogue's anxiety was through the roof. He nearly burned a whole town to the ground when he lost Frosch. Imagine what he'd do if he didn't know where you, his significant other was. "No"

"I'm going to her house" with that Rogue left in an attempt to find you. Luckily for him, you were indeed just at your house.

Your stomach dropped at the sound of someone knocking at your door. You were tired, no, exhausted even. You hated that you had to pretend that you were someone that you're not, but it was all for a good cause you kept telling yourself, and yet you couldn't muster the energy to keep up that facade.

"(Y/N)? Please tell me your home" your heart broke at the sound of his voice. The worry and desperateness were caused because of you. Once again you were not good enough.

You opened the door ever so slightly, just enough, so he could make out that it was in fact you. "Thank God you're here"

"I'm sorry for not giving a heads-up. I promise I'll be back tomorrow" you promised him as you were about to shut the door again, but he stopped you by placing his own hand against the door.

"(Y/N), please, we need to talk" you contemplated for a minute, weighing the pros and the cons "please"

You slowly opened the door further as a signal for him to come in.

The sight in front of him shattered his heart. Your eyes were red and puffy. Your figure was completely slouched and your arms were wrapped around your middle, hugging yourself, in an attempt to shield yourself away from.

"I'm sorry I probably look like a cry baby right now-" he stopped you before you could finish your excuse "hey, no, none of that"

"I want to tell you something and I need you to listen without you interrupting me, okay?" You nodded your head at his request and waited patiently as he continued. "First and foremost I'd like to apologize for my behaviour last week. I shouldn't have worked out my frustration on you and I shouldn't have attacked you like that."

You nodded your head at his apology "second, I want you to know that you should never change your personality. Especially not for me. I love you, (Y/N). And when I say that, I mean every piece of you. Your good and your bad traits. If fell in love with you for who you are, and not the person you've been portraying as the last week."

"Please go back to your old self. I'd rather have a childish person as my girlfriend than a fraud that's clearly exhausted by putting on a facade. I really am sorry for making you feel like you had to change for me" by now you were full-on crying. Maybe it was because of Rogue's kind words, maybe it was because of the exhaustion, maybe a bit of both. All you cared about now was being in his arms and feeling loved.

"It's okay" you whispered as placed your head on his chest as he planted a kiss on your head.

"It really isn't. That's why I'd like to make it up to you" you broke the hug to look up at him as a mischievous glint was sparkling in his eyes "how about we prank Sting?"

"I'd love to, but for now let's just watch a film and cuddle" you smiled at his idea as you had never pranked Sting before since you always prank others together.

"Anything for you, princess" that's how you spend the rest of your evening in each other's arms, with him reassuring you every once in a while that he loves you and that you should never change.

710 notes · View notes

hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

Text

Take All That Anger Out on Me

A/N: Here’s the first requested fic from the ‘Super Kinky’ list for my Dirty Little Secret series!!! (I’ll be alternating these super kinky fics with the ‘Somewhat Filthy’ fics.) **Please note the warnings: This fic is all about the kinks, please do not read if this is not your thing!!**

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, intense degradation, Jax is raging and seriously roughs you up ‘cause you beg him to let all his anger out (slaps your face, spits on your face and in your mouth) Request: Request from @rayslittlekitten (in comments under this post) + anon request

Word Count: ~2k

Note: As explained in this post, this ‘Dirty Little Secret’ series consists of fics that I had originally written for another character/celebrity, which I’m repurposing for characters of Charlie! So if the characterization ever seems a little off, please don’t judge me too harshly 🙂

**Please note warnings above**

Triggering content after ‘Keep reading’ cut…

***************

It's past 2 A.M. when he finally gets home, storming into the living room, the front door swinging loud and hard behind him as he slams it closed.

You jump up off the couch immediately, tingling as you sense the red hot rage that's radiating from his body, from that drop-dead gorgeous head down to his toes. It fills you with the urge to rip off all his fucking clothes. Worship the sculpted muscles underneath his shirt and kutte... just eat him up... But you're not sure if Jax is in the mood to use you as his slut, right now when he is clearly furious about whatever happened on today's job. So you try to keep your mouth closed. Stay composed.

But then he heads into the kitchen, and you can't resist the urge to ask a question, as you follow. "How'd it go...?"

"Don't ask," Jax grumbles in a low rasp, as he tosses his gun down onto the table, moving toward the fridge to grab himself a beer. He doesn't even bother looking back at you at all, let alone stop to say hello. Just moves across the room like you're not even here. "You don't wanna know."

Some twisted part of you loves it when he gets so rude. He’s in one of those moods, and it shows, and the one thing you do know... is just how the rest of the night's gonna go.

You don't wanna know, he had said. You protest, knowing that will provoke him best, bring all that smoldering rage to the surface and make him go mad.

And you want that. So bad.

He says it again, like he's reading the thoughts in your head. "Trust me, Y/N, you don't wanna fucking know."

"I do, though—"

"I said don't," your man repeats, casting a glance in your direction, for a split second, piercing blue glare burning your skin off with the heat. And then he turns his back to you again, muttering something as he grabs the drink he needs. You're not sure if he wanted you to hear it. But you did. "Stupid bitch."

... Well, shit. Those degrading words off of his lips just made your pussy twitch. You squirm and cross your arms over your tits, nipples suddenly stiff, through the thin cloth of your pajama top. His back is toward you at the moment so he doesn't really notice. You pretend to just be miffed, although the truth is that you’re thirsty for this man to fuck you up. "Okay, somebody's got his boxers in a twist..."

Jax takes a deep swig of his drink. Then sets it down, and slowly turns around. "You shut your mouth," he growls out loud, the dark edge in his tone depriving you of all ability to think.

A sheen of liquor glistens on his lower lip; he flicks his tongue out, takes a lick and then bites down hard on the soft pink flesh. Surveys the skimpy PJs you’ve got on, the lacy fabric of the bottoms, hanging low upon your hips... his gaze descends down to your crotch before sliding across your chest... Then up your neck to linger on your mouth and make you melt, as if he knows you're desperate to use that dirty mouth to just untwist his boxers yourself.

And damn are they in a tight twist. He talks down at you in a mean, menacing hiss. "Thought you'd know better than to get sassy like this when I'm already fucking pissed."

Every word he utters, in that husky voice of his, gets you all hot and bothered, hits you like a goddamn bomb exploding on your clit. Taking a few steps toward this sex god motherfucker, you uncross your arms and set your hands upon your hips. At this point all your dignity has been eclipsed, desire coming through, and you don't care if he can see your tits—you don't doubt it. In fact you want him to, if this suggestive shift in energy is signaling that he might want to do something about it.

So you respond accordingly: with a provocative reply to make it clear that you are quite painfully horny. "Well, I guess I don't know shit. I'm just a stupid little bitch."

At that, a shadow of a smirk flickers across his luscious lips. "Oh, now you're asking for it..."

"Begging. Please," you answer, wet with need, unable to hold back the nasty slut inside of you that has to be released. Undoubtedly. "Take all that anger out on me."

Towering over you so tall and powerful, so big and strong and beautiful, those eyes so blue and hair so blonde... he bites his tongue and pauses just a fraction of a second. Ocean eyes exploring yours, to make sure that you know just what you're in for. That it's what you really want. That you're ready and eager for whatever rough and dirty sex Jax Teller has in store.

And of course you fucking are. Without wasting a second more, he lunges forward, like an animal pinning you to the floor—the kitchen table, let alone the bed or any better surface that may be available, is way too fucking far—hovering over you on all fours, groaning in sadistic pleasure as you happily surrender to his force, grinding his hips hard into yours, until you're moaning like a whore.

"This what you wanted, bitch?" he devilishly teases, razor edges of his teeth grazing your trembling bottom lip as he gets off on just how bad you fucking need this. Scratching your every last itch. His ruthless hands tear off your flimsy top, groping and pawing at your tits. "Yeah, 'course it is. You kinky little piece of shit."

"F-fuck...!" you scream, turned on beyond belief. His brutal dominance is everything you’ve ever dreamed; the filthy whore inside you instantly reacts, as he attacks. "Fuck, Jax..."

"Told you to shut your goddamn mouth," he grunts, one hand reaching to rip right through your panties so that he can plunge two fingers deep inside your dripping cunt, pumping violently in and out. As his thumb flicks against your slick sensitive clit, he clamps his other hand across your gasping lips, your skin on fire beneath his fingertips. "So keep it shut. You filthy fucking slut."

Oh God, oh Goddd, he is so motherfucking hot. By now you are incapable of any other thought. The palm of his strong, calloused hand is so big that he easily smothers your whole snout and stifles your breathing. And you love the feeling, the heaven of staring up into his blazing blue gaze as he cuts off your airways, of sinking straight into the ultimate subspace... your mind is so blown you've forgotten your own fucking name.

Yet still you know you will remember his, always. Your world revolves around Jax Teller... you live only for his pleasure, now and forever, all day every day... you truly love it when he treats you like a worthless piece of shit. You have no shame.

Despite your consciousness being shattered to bits, somehow you're nonetheless aware that you just came.

"Ugh, look at you," he snarls, pulling his soaked fingers out of your pulsating slit, sticking them in your mouth to make you taste yourself just as he loves to do. Your juices have gushed out all over the floor, and his hands, and his pants, and the whole goddamn world. "Such a dirty girl. Squirting all over my kutte. Did I say you could cum, you dumb slut?"

No, he most definitely did not...

"You're disgusting," he snaps, pulling his hand off of your mouth at last, only to deal your cheek a sudden savage slap. Your inner slut is blissfully combusting. You're so weak and he's so strong. And then he holds your breathless mouth wide open with his thumbs... hocks up a thick wet wad of spit, and puckers up his slick pink lips, to shoot it straight onto your tongue. "Good-for-nothing scum."

By now you're so turned on that you've gone numb.

Jax spits on you again, and again, down your throat and all over your forehead and chin, humiliating you with laughter as he smacks your cheeks repeatedly and rubs his palm across your face to spread his spit around till every inch is fucking glazed. Sending you deeper into subspace.

Your pussy convulses in shameless disgrace, clenching tight around nothing, set to come undone again just from the sheer power of his fucking perfection. From the friction of his raging hard erection, through his jeans against your bare skin, the sensation of pure sin, his rough hands and ravenous mouth dominating and degrading you in all possible ways.

"You like being my dirty little punching bag?" he taunts, as if he has to ask; it's obviously everything you want. To be a damn fucktoy for Jax. He swiftly flips you over then, all of a sudden, to begin smacking your ass. "You want this big fat dick deep in your cunt? Mmm, know you do, slut. Gonna have to beg for that."

You try to beg, instinctively spreading your legs, desperate for fifty shades of filthy sex, as you sprawl out for him facedown upon the ground. And yet given the state you're in right now, somehow. you can't manage a sound.

He spanks your ass raw, as you squirm and struggle from beneath, gritting your teeth, striving to speak, wasted and weak, gaping your mouth so wide you'll probably break your fucking jaw. Still not a word comes out—nothing but choked whimpers and gasps for air, as his dominant fingers grab a fistful of your hair, lifting your head and tilting it toward him just to spit in your mouth, yet again and then slamming your head right back down. God, you love how he's letting his inner beast out and just going to town.

You quiver in bliss as you grovel in a puddle of his spit, the floor tiles pressed against your tits, high on the way he beats you like a low-down piece of shit. It's all you are to him at times like this. Overcome with arousal and unable to control yourself at all, your pussy aching as it drips, you start cumming again at the next words off of his lips. "You're such a stupid... fucking... bitch."

You squirt even harder this time around. Feels like you've drowned.

Jax deals your ass a final stinging spank, then twines his fingers in your messy hair again, forcing your head up off the ground with an aggressive yank. "Dumb fucking skank. See, I was gonna fuck that cunt tonight—stuff you full of this big dick until I cum inside, then fuck your throat and let you drink it all up—every goddamn drop, you dirty little slut... but you know what? You don't deserve it. Not when you've been such a pathetic piece of shit."

He blesses you with one more smack across the face, and one more shot of his sweet spit, laughing as you soak in the feel and the taste of such total disgrace.

Ughh, he is so fucking hot... he's an actual sex god... you think, as he throws you back down to the ground, letting you drown, lost in the pure filth of your perfectly satisfied kinks.

"So now you know what happens when I'm fucking pissed," Jax says, gloating at how you groan in bliss, letting your loving gaze worship his flawless face. "Next time you disobey, and piss me off like that, I'm gonna take out all my anger even harder on your sorry ass and make it hurt real bad. You got that, bitch?"

Oh God, fuck, yes. He's such a savage. To be honest, you just hope that is a promise...

And from the way he's smirking down at you like this, dirty and devilish—giving off such a dangerous dominance that's so fucking delicious—set to satisfy your deepest darkest wishes... you can tell that it most definitely is.

***************

... Sooo that was super filthy and I know Jax is an absolute asshole in this lol but I hope there are some kinky bitches who enjoyed it, and would love to hear if you did!! 😅❤️

– Main Masterlist

– Dirty Little Secret Masterlist

***************

Kinkfest Tag List – Join Here!*

*If you’re unable to use that link to join the tag list, just let me know and I’ll manually add you to it!

@itsme-autumn @rebelwrites @malethirsty @coffeequeenxx @turner-cris @innerpaperexpertcloud @est11 @magic-room @littlebennettwitchsblog @snow-white-74 @sunflower12335 @trishmarieofficial @got-to-love-a-badboy @thesimonkshow @noneofyourbusinessssblog @notquitecannon @travistheaussie @alexa-rae-dreamz @i-love-scott-mccall @band--psycho @helloheyhihowdyheya @beth-winchester21 @inlovewithcharliehunnam @amberembers @pedritomando @badboy86uk @scarletmeii @barbiewasacommunist @happylittlepuppydog @englishmuffinwritesbooks @addcrastinator3 @southrenlove @malikadnan77 @thesuicidalflower @gemini0410 @louisianalady @ravynfenyx @weasleytwins-41 @mariska0610 @zozebo @christycarnell6 @i-hav-no-life @labramusic01 @thatgirljayy @boredintheglade @guerra-e-paes @charliehunnamlove @rayslittlekitten @heyitskat101 @bispences @velvetcardiganbucky @midnight-dreams-23 @celine-and-hafiz @romanreigns-supreme @3184dec @synnersaint @writtingbyacrazyperson @norwegian-princess @itsmycorneroftheinternet @suicidepanda07 @abby-splace @gunmybear8o @luv-nd-serenity @ficsilovetoreadwithcats @missusnora @starstruckbluebirdtriumph @kesskirata

306 notes · View notes

cloud9in · 3 years

Text

Promises (Poppy x MC) Part (2/?)

Read Part ONE (summary for fic is there)

ITS BEEN A MINUTE. @iamsimpforpoppy I hope you’re still around to read :P I love this story lol. Hope you guys do too!!!

Word Count (2.8k)

Bea and Poppy’s relationship became official a month after their initial meeting. One would say they moved quickly, too quickly. But every love story is different. This one in particular seemed to have little to none flaws, if you ignored the fact that Bea was promoted to Carter’s right hand woman in the Southside Spades.

They did end up having that conversation after all.

“…Are you sure Carter? I mean this is a huge deal and a special role-“

“If I didn’t think you were capable you wouldn’t be here right now Goldilocks.”

Carter winked and clinked his half empty beer bottle against Bea’s, who surprisingly had a nearly full bottle. He took note of the abnormality.

The blonde instinctively rolled her eyes at the nickname, “Okay but that name has to go. We need codenames……ooooh how about bimbo and himbo.”

“I’m guessing…..no, hoping I’m the himbo?!” Carter comments as he promptly tries to stop the laugh escaping from his lips.

“Mmmmmmm, I’ll get back to you on that.”

They share a laugh and Bea feels Carter’s gaze latch onto her in her peripherals. She could sense the shift of energy in the space between them, it almost felt uncomfortable, and that was something she never felt with Carter. “I never asked you if you were okay with such a role. If you aren't, I understand completely, I just want the best for you.”

The blonde eyes soften at his comment and she looks at him, “never doubted that, where is this going though because you never express your feelings like a normal human being.”

He pulls on the strings of her hoodie until it completely caves around her face, burying her whole.

“Hey asshole!”

“That’s for talking too much.”

Bea yanks her hoodie open and sticks her tongue out in a mock expression. “Oh boohoo. Poppy literally says the same thing, I don’t get it. I talk, it’s a problem. I don’t talk, it’s an even BIGGER problem. Damn a girl can’t ever exist in peace.”

Carter places his bottle flat on the table and studies the blonde’s face.

She kept rambling on about her new girlfriend and the gang leader didn’t know it was possible to feel happy yet anxious at the same time. He was aware of when they entered the talking stage, went on their first date, and finally became official, because Bea told him everything. As much as the experience of being in a real relationship was new to her, Bea looked up to him and somehow she knew Carter would give her the best guidance possible.

It didn’t stop him from worrying. Like an older brother would. He feared the two would mix, and everyone knows that love and crime will eventually combust. He is no stranger to it.

“Bea.”

“Did you know she stole one of my hoodies and actually won’t give it back?? What am I supposed to do, just take it? No she’d murder me.”

“Jackson.”

Her voice slowly dies down after sensing the seriousness in his tone. She takes a sip of her beer to ease the silence that sat in the air, and Carter responds shortly after.

“You know I trust you with my life right? You’re very important to me, kid.”

“I know.”

Guilt was a feeling he chose to lock away in an unbreakable box and bury six feet deep. There couldn’t be guilt in a lifestyle like this. But Bea was his only exception. And she was slowly bringing that box back up to the surface.

“I need you to promise me that you won’t let these two worlds collide.”

“Carter….”

“One of you will get hurt. And I won’t forgive myself if it’s you.”

He leaves Bea at the table, the remnants of his comment still replaying in her head. She pulls out her phone and sees a text from Poppy on her lockscreen.

Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Can’t wait to see you tomorrow 😘

The blonde smiles unconsciously and opens the message to respond.

I’m missing you like crazy. I have a special surprise for you.

Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- You know I highly dislike surprises, just tell me.

And ruin the surprise? You must be crazier than I thought.

Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Jackson.

Patience babe…tomorrow it is.

Bea clicks her phone shut and slips it back into her pocket before downing the rest of the beer.

***

“You know your hand on my ass only makes them stare even more Jackson?”

Bea bites her lips and gropes the blonde’s plump backside shamelessly while slowly whispering into her ear.

“That’s the point, princess.”

Poppy shivers almost instantly at the boldness. “Is this the surprise you were talking about?” Bea doesn’t answer, instead trailing her hand up Poppy’s skirt. This was definitely not the time and place for such behavior but she was clearly still learning everything about her girlfriend.

And it definitely felt good to call her that.

“Since when did you get so brazen? You know you’re exactly the type of person my daddy told me to stay away from.”

Bea laughs at that statement and wraps her arm around the blonde’s waist, “yeah? And why’s that?”

“Well I can’t ask him now, he might rough you up and that’s my job.”

Poppy could feel the stares of everyone burning into them, but she could only focus on the blonde cuddled up against her. The shorter girl wouldn’t call herself an attention whore, but she sure loved the PDA that Bea projected without a care. It felt nice to be genuinely admired in public rather than putting on a mask everyday.

But it’s safe to say that Poppy preferred all the handsy stuff to happen in private.

“Do you want to grab dinner with me tonight Pops?”

“Am I picking the place?”

“…Yes.”

“Then yes.”

Bea rolls her eyes at the blonde’s downright shady self but smiles nevertheless.

“Now don’t cancel on me out of the blue. I will not be thrilled about it.”

“Shouldn’t I be telling you this? Your dad always has something going on in his business that somehow has to involve you too.”

Poppy sighs and glances over at Bea, “well you know I’ll have to take over eventually. Especially since I’m legally allowed to handle deals now.”

“I hate that word. Legal. Ugh.”

The shorter girl scoffs and plants her hands on her hips, “yeah I bet you do.”

***

Bea dragged open her closet in search of clothes for dinner tonight but the dinging noise of a text distracts her.

C-Dog🖤- Need you tonight. Something came up, meet us at the garage.

Bea wanted to thank the gods up above that she didn’t promise Poppy that she’d show up for dinner. But that wasn’t going to save her from the fury of the blonde. Good thing it can’t get worse than that, right….?

Only it was. And Poppy will probably beat her up herself, if she wasn’t dead by the next day.

Bea’s mind and heart races as she digs her brain for a proper excuse to tell her girlfriend, but is very unsuccessful. She’s good at drug dealing though.

Going with the good ole truth never really hurt right?

Baby I’m so sorry I won’t be able to make it tonight. Got held up with the gang. I know I’m an asshole, I’ll keep in touch I swear.

Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- What else could I expect from my gang banger girlfriend 🙄 please stay safe..

You know I always do.

Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Do I? We need to talk about this tomorrow.

Of course Pops.

Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Call me every chance you get or I swear I’ll track you and trust me you do not want me to do that.

Yeah she definitely doesn’t. Especially since Carter sounded frantic over the phone. The last thing Bea needed was a paranoid girlfriend, so she played it cool like always.

Just simple stuff baby girl, talk soon.

***

“…What do you mean it’s gone?! So where is it? Do you know what this means Carter??”

The gang leader sighs frustratingly, rubbing his eyes in efforts to gain some stability. “The product was here, and now it is not. Which can only mean it was stolen. And when I find out which son of a bitch did it, they’re dead.”

“In the meantime, we are dead”, Bea emphasizes wildly. “This is the Red Raven gang we’re talking about. If they get any inclination that we lost their drugs, they’ll kill and replace us. No mercy. None.”

The blonde paces back and forth trying not to think about buying a plane ticket to Timbuktu.

Carter approaches Bea and plants his hands on her shoulder, “breathe Jackson. You are my partner. The leader of this gang. So get it out of your system and start being rational.”

The blonde lets her shoulders sag as she inhales and exhales in place for a while. The minute she’s grounded she catches Carter’s gaze and her eyes light up. “List. I need a list of whoever went in the room with all of the product. We need to narrow it down.”

***

“Jackson you’re a fucking genius.”

“It’s called having common sense but I’ll take the praise. It’s the only one I’m getting from you anyways.”

Carter resisted the urge to pick a fight with the younger girl, because finding stolen drugs and not getting killed seemed like a much better idea.

Bea figured out that Henry, one of the newly recruited members of SS was a thief, or maybe just a crackhead. Same thing. He was the last to be in that room so all eyes were on him, and guns.

“Heyyy buddy. Henry right?”

The shorter man trembled at the sight of a gun lodged right into his mouth. “Mmmm!”

“Oh I’m sorry, did you want to say something? Here let me just”, Bea clicks the gun which only causes the thief to panic even more. It was almost pitiful.

“Alright lay off the poor sucker.”

Bea pulls the gun out of his mouth and sits down on a stool in front of Henry with a grin. “So…where is the stash darling?”

He points almost immediately to a built in storage locker with a shaky finger.

“Ohhh well that was so easy Henry! Glad you could comply. You should tell your friends to be more like you. But…between me and you, they might already be dead”, Bea whispers that last part slowly, smirking when Henry’s lip quivers violently.

“Please just do it already! Why are you guys waiting?”

Bea raised an eyebrow in surprise and glanced over at Carter who scanned the man’s face intensely. “I guess he wants to die? Talk about kinks I mean come on”

“No.”

Carter reaches his arm out towards Bea but never takes his eyes off Henry. The blonde watches in confusion until she realizes the thief is looking behind her, and so is Carter.

“It’s a setup Bea, duck!”

She dived for the ground quicker than lightning as a bullet flies through the air, leaving a trail of dust behind. Carter ducks for cover as well and starts firing rounds towards the men who snuck up on them. He managed to hit three of them but one grabs Bea by the leg and drags her against the rough concrete.

“Son of a- get your dirty hands off of my Dr. Martens. My girlfriend bought me these!”

A swift kick to the face shut the blonde up real quick but she manages to recoil and send the man sprawling backwards into a row of barrels.

Carter guns him down and Bea finds her footing, pistol in hand and a thirst for revenge. But they never stopped coming.

Her and Carter were left battered and bruised, but alive. Their product was gone again though. But atleast they were alive. Carter told her that it was a theft mission primarily and neither of them were meant to die. But it only made Bea wonder who those people were.

And why were they kept alive?

***

“Beatriz Naomi Jackson what the actual fuck?!”

“Oh not the middle name…”

Bea tries to avoid Poppy’s killer gaze as she surveys the damage that had been done to her girlfriend’s torso, legs, and face.

The strawberry blonde could barely mutter a word. Her mouth opened and closed in brief shock before collapsing next to the injured girl.

Bea could see the tears flowing down her rosy cheeks, which contrasted her porcelain skin. “Poppy…are you crying? I..please don’t..”

“What do you expect me to do Bea? It kills me to see you hurt like this. Who did it? Tell me!” The blonde chokes on her own words as her hands hovers cautiously over Bea’s wounds, afraid to make her feel pain.

“No I can’t tell you. I mean…I didn’t expect this to happen. It was a setup and we were outnumbered-“

“We need to get you to a hospital Bea oh my god.”

The blonde knew that she couldn’t go there. Not with the cops on the scene of the shootout, and actively looking for the people involved. Aka her and Carter. He told her to lay low and heal up, but she didn’t expect Poppy to be sitting on her bed waiting for her when she got home. The initial look on her face made Bea regret ever choosing this life.

She regrets it ever since being with Poppy. But it’s like a drug, once you start it’s hard to stop.

“I’ll call my father, he has the best doctors available and we’re gonna get your the right treatment and-“

Poppy immediately cuts off, her eyebrows scrunching up until she realizes something. “Wait…what do you mean you were outnumbered Bea?”

Bea swallows heavily, praying that this conversation couldn’t escalate further, but that isn’t the case.

“Bea, answer me”

“It..it was just me and Carter. We didn’t think there would be an ambush. We had just gone there to get goods we lost.”

“And where is Carter? Does he know you’re like this right now? Did he leave you, I swear to god Bea if he left you…” Poppy’s voice cracks as her whole body shivers in violent waves.

Bea pulls her girlfriend in for a hug even though it causes every inch of her body to sting harshly. It was the comfort that she needed though. Watching Poppy breakdown over the sight of her was too much, and she began to contemplate everything.

“Pops listen to me, I cannot go to the hospital right now. There are cops looking for us.” The strawberry blonde stares at her until she understands the velocity of Bea’s words.

“Fine. But there will be a doctor that will come to treat you at my house. And you’re coming, I don’t want to hear it.”

Bea knew not to protest that. It was quite obvious this whole incident has left both parties distraught and she didn’t want to try and tell Poppy how to feel.

“Just tell me something. Are you in immediate danger? Is someone trying to harm you right now.”

The blonde chose her words carefully. Because even after coming home beaten to a pulp, she still couldn’t tell the love of her life the full truth.

“No Poppy, they just wanted the drugs. They got what they wanted. I’m not in danger.”

For now.

“I will be okay.”

I hope.

“Don’t lie to me Jackson. I can’t do this if you lie. You promised me you wouldn’t get to the point where you’d have to choose between me and the gang.”

“I know Poppy…I-“

“You promised.”

“And I’m going to keep that promise-“

“Yeah the hell you are. And you’re going to promise me that you won’t ever come home like this again. You’re going to get yourself killed before we even start our life together. Our future.”

Bea sucks in a breath which punctures her chest. She couldn’t tell if the injuries or Poppy’s words had caused that terrible ache. “Our…Wait I..”

“I love you Jackson. I…don’t care if you think it’s too early to say that. I don’t care if I sound too cheesy for a mean girl. I love kissing you and feeling the laughter run through your body when we hug. I love being the reason you smile. I love you. And you don’t have to say it back. I just..I needed you to know-“

“I love you too. Probably maybe from the moment I met you.”

Poppy’s eyes seemed to glisten once again and this time there was no sadness etched into the shape. She smiled a pure smile and wrapped her arms around Bea in a tight hug.

She captures her lips in a searing kiss that leads to a trail of kisses down the strawberry blonde’s neck, dip of her collarbone, and chest. Bea kisses her until her chest gives out from exhaustion and pain.

“Then you have to promise that this won’t happen again.”

“I promise.”

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

NOTES: They’re gonna be fineeeee, right guys??? Graduation next chapter woooo.

Tags: @samanthadalton @somewillwin @clowneryme @baexpoppy @poppysmc @doey-eyes8 @veenast @straightlikewetspaghetti @phoennixxsblog

#i came up with that middle name on the spot lmaooo #no bug motivation this time just pepsi #poppy min sinclair #queen b #playchoices #mc x poppy

60 notes · View notes

sergeantsporks · 2 years

Text

Trust is a Poison

Rating: Teen, Gen

CW: Implied/referenced child abuse, needles

Lilith finds a poisoned, dying Hunter on her doorstep.

Fantastic, now he's HER problem.

Ch 3/3: Trust Me

Ch 1, Ch 2

Ao3

Lilith was out of potion.

Morton had probably given her enough to reach the antidote, but since she’d used so much to keep Hunter from dying, she didn’t have any left.

His breath huffed on her neck, coming in short, fast pants. And he was trembling so hard that if it weren’t for the vines keeping him tied to her, she wouldn’t be able to hold onto him.

In the blazing desert sun, Hunter was uncomfortable to be this close to, his fever burning him up, but she didn’t have a choice. She’d flown her raven to its limit again, desperate to find the cure before Hunter died on her.

“Lil-ith?”

Lilith halted. He’d been in and out of consciousness, rarely coherent. “Hey.”

He slumped back against her. “Can we… stop?” he said in a small voice.

Lilith wiped a sheen of sweat from her forehead. She could use a break. And so could he—maybe he wasn’t walking, but the constant movement had to be tiring. She untied Hunter, setting him down, and he immediately curled into a small ball, still shivering. Lilith drew an ice glyph and pushed it into a canteen, setting it off and filling the canteen with ice. She drew a fire glyph, melting the ice into liquid. Lilith shook Hunter’s shoulder. “Come on, you need to drink something.”

He shook his head. “N-no.”

Lilith took a sip first, then held it back out. “See? Not poisoned.”

He opened his mouth like a baby bird, and she held it up, tilting it back. He guzzled the water, then fell back into his uneasy coma, shuddering. Lilith wiped the mouth of the canteen and drank what was left. She looked back at Hunter.

He was sweating blood.

Lilith shook him in a panic, trying to wake him up. “Hunter?!”

That seemed like a very final sign.

He blearily opened his eyes, putting a hand to his head. “Ngh—” he stared at the blood speckling his skin as his hand came away, his eyes dazed and unfocused. Then, to Lilith’s surprise, he burst into tears, the clear water mixing with the blood.

“Oh—” Lilith gingerly patted his head. “There there?”

“It—h-hurts!” he whimpered quietly, “It h-hurts so b-bad, like something is eating my insides, and I’m trying not—I’m trying not to bother you—b-but—”

I’m trying not to bother you.

Another bit of Belos. Suck it up. Work through the pain, through the exhaustion, greatness required sacrifice. The same reason she’d turned on her sister, but Hunter did it to himself instead. Lilith drew a fire glyph, heating up the already-stifling air in an attempt to tone down Hunter’s shivering. “Okay. Okay, how long has it been hurting?”

He sniffed, tears still streaming down his face. “S-since the beginning.”

Since the beginning.

She’d known the poison had been sapping his energy, making it hard to breathe, and making him feverish, but he’d been hurting to tears since he’d been poisoned?!

“Oh, Hunter,” she murmured.

He hiccupped, squeezing his eyes shut as if trying to stop the tears from coming out. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I can—I can keep going.”

Don’t be a burden.

Don’t bother people.

Keep going through the pain.

Lilith brushed his unruly strand of hair out of his face before it could get caught up in the blood staining his forehead. “Tell me when you need a break or more water,” she said, so gently it surprised even herself, “Don’t be scared to ask.”

He fell forward against her, red seeping onto her clothes. “’m okay… We can… keep going…”

Lilith scooped him up. Her raven cawed that it was ready, and she secured him to the staff, taking off again. Hunter leaned against her, his breathing hitching in his chest. Whether that was from the crying, or the poison, she didn’t know.

I need to get him that cure.

He’s been in pain this whole time.

And he never told me.

Belos had drilled that into him—Lilith wondered how many missions Hunter had run while hurting. Titan knew she’d sent him on a few, trying to get him as far away from her as possible. How many times had he returned injured and hadn’t told anyone?

Her raven cawed that it was incredibly funny that she’d started out not caring if he went blind, and now was telling him they could take breaks whenever he needed.

Lilith wrinkled her nose at the bird. “I don’t expect you to get it.”

She heard a quiet snuffle, and turned her head just enough to look at her passenger without him noticing. He was crying again, his eyes exhausted and bloodshot. But he didn’t make much noise, just leaned on her for support and cried into his cloak.

He must be too tired to hold it in anymore.

Not to tired to try and hide it from me, though.

Lilith shifted around, taking his hand.

“Just hold on a little longer,” she urged him, “We’re almost there.”

“Why… didn’t she just choose… a faster poison…” he groaned.

Lilith’s heart clenched in her chest. “Don’t talk like that. Please.”

“Yeah… then you’d… be dead by now…”

It’s more than that.

“Am I going to die?” Hunter asked in a very small voice.

Lilith squeezed his hand. “No,” she said fiercely, “I’m not going to let that happen.”

He sniffed, pressing one arm to his stomach, face twisted in pain. He was so… vulnerable.

He’s been running missions, doing Belos’ dirty work, since he was ten. He’s too young—younger than I was when I JOINED the coven. And he’s in charge of it?

“You’re being very strong,” she said softly, “I can’t even imagine the pain you’re in right now. But you’re going on despite it.” She put a hand on his back. “You can do this. I believe in you. Just stay strong for a little longer, and we’ll fix this. You’re going to be okay.”

He didn’t respond, his breathing seizing up.

And then he fell off of the staff, yanked to a halt by the harness.

Lilith steered towards the ground, hovering just far enough that he wouldn’t hit the dirt, and hopped off, untying him. Blood dripped from his pores, and he gasped in heaving, frantic, erratic breaths. Panic swept over her, making her dizzy. She put a hand on his chest. “Hold on for me, Hunter, just hold on. I’m going to find help—I’ll be back soon.”

She drew a huge light glyph, the resulting spell making a glowing marker over where he was lying. She grabbed her staff. “I’ll be right back,” she promised, and headed off.

They’re here, they’re around here somewhere!

Her raven cawed that if they split up, they’d cover more distance, and she nodded. “Good plan—go, we’re running out of time!”

It flew off, and Lilith continued on foot, glaring down at Morton’s map and at her surroundings.

“Where are you?!”

A scream shattered the air, and Lilith’s heart just about stopped in her chest.

“Hunter!”

Lilith bolted back towards where she’d left him, her feet sliding and stumbling in the sand. She came to the crest of a dune, and saw a huge desert cat pawing at Hunter, batting him to the side with massive paws. Its claws were sheathed—it was toying with him. He’d curled into a ball to protect himself, but the creature wouldn’t let up.

“HEY!” Lilith yelled, waving her arms, “LEAVE HIM ALONE!”

It paused, looking up at her, and she drew a fire glyph on the ground, blasting it. The thing shrieked, leaving Hunter crumpled on the ground and coming after her instead. Lilith backed up fast, drawing glyphs on the ground and shooting all the magic she had at it.

It batted away an ice spike and swiped at her, its claws extended. Lilith stumbled backwards, but her foot hit a patch of particularly soft sand and sank.

Claws slashed across her leg, tearing into her skin, and Lilith screamed, her vision going spotty. Still, she drew one last glyph, and a spike of ice speared the thing right in the neck. It yowled and dashed away, apparently deciding she and Hunter weren’t worth the effort.

Lilith yanked her foot out of the sand, limping towards Hunter in a series of gasps of pain. She collapsed next to him. “You—alright?” she murmured, pressing a hand uselessly to her injured leg.

He was struggling to breathe, whether from the attack, or the poison, she couldn’t tell. Still, his bloodshot eyes latched onto her. “You… came… back…?”

Xxx

He couldn’t breathe—it hurt to breathe, it hurt to move, everything just ached and throbbed, and his insides felt like they were twisting around, tying themselves into knots.

Lilith reached a shaking, bloodstained hand out towards him. “Of… course…”

Of course. She needed him to clear her name.

She smiled at him, small and gentle, and then squeezed her eyes shut, wincing.

Oh.

It wasn’t just about securing her innocence.

He reached with a trembling hand for her, nudging her, trying to get her to wake up, but her eyes stayed shut. Even if she had been able to wake up, would she be able to walk?

My fault.

She got hurt defending me.

Hunter coughed, and coughed, and retched, his lungs aching. He blinked at his hand, his vision blurry.

Blood.

I’m falling apart.

“H-help,” he murmured, breaking off into another round of coughing, his mouth filled with the taste of blood that he spit out on the sand. His heart was fluttering frantically in his chest, pounding against his ribs like it was trying to burst out of his body.

“H-help,” he murmured

He heard a caw, and Lilith’s raven swooped down from the sky, nudging its witch.

“H-help,” he croaked again, his eyes drooping shut.

Voices shouted, and he was weightless, strong arms lifting him off of the ground. He could see Lilith, or at least a dark blur he thought was her, next to him, and his fingers twitched, reaching for her.

Stay strong.

Xxx

“Wakey wakey.”

Lilith blinked at the ceiling. Her leg throbbed, but… where was she?!

The person who had woken her—a witch with blue hair—smiled at her, holding out her dormant palisman. “Your raven found us. Good thing, too, you and your kid were half dead. We stitched you up, gave you a blood-booster—you’ll be okay.”

Lilith sat upright. “Hunter! The poison! You have the antidote?”

The witch winced. “We’ve… hit a bit of a problem with that.”

Lilith surged out of bed, grabbing her collar. “What do you mean a—”

Her leg twinged, and she fell. The witch grabbed her arms, supporting her. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

The witch helped her through stark-white hallways, taking her to a room with a one-way window. Lilith could see Hunter through the window, pale and blood-stained, and she pressed her hand to the glass.

“Why aren’t you helping him?!”

“He won’t let us. Every time we try to give him the antidote, he reacts violently. Gasps that he can’t trust us, flails—the only thing stronger than the poison, it seems, is his fear.”

Lilith’s heart clenched.

You can’t trust anyone.

This was her fault.

“Let me try?”

The witch shrugged, handing Lilith a small vial. “He needs to drink that. And fast—he’s at a critical stage, if he doesn’t take that soon, it’ll be too late.”

Lilith snatched up the vial, pushing open the door and limping in. She sat down next to Hunter’s bed, and his eyes opened, frantic, his pupils huge in tiny irises.

“Hello,” she said softly.

His shoulders relaxed, just a bit. “Lilith…”

She unstoppered the vial, swirling the contents. “You need to take this.”

He shook his head. “P-poison…”

Lilith put her hand over his. “Hunter. We’re safe, now. These people aren’t emperor’s coven, they don’t even know who we are.”

He coughed, blood speckling his lips. “It… hurts…”

“I know. I know.” Lilith held the vial up. “This will help. I promise. But you have to drink it.”

He shook his head again.

“Hunter. I know it’s hard, I know you’ve been betrayed, you’ve had to hide and lie in the coven to protect yourself. I know I haven’t always been the best to you. But I need you to trust me. Just this once, please, trust me. Can you do that?”

His magenta eyes locked on hers, terrified, pained, exhausted. And he nodded.

Lilith put the vial to his lips and tilted it back. He drank it, still shuddering and coughing, then closed his eyes, falling back onto the bed with a sigh. He was still shivering uncontrollably, and when Lilith brushed his forehead with her hand, his temperature was too high.

Just trust it will help.

Trust it wasn’t too late.

Lilith squeezed his hand.

“You’re going to be okay,” she murmured, half trying to convince herself.

The blue-haired witch pushed open the door. “We can handle it from here,” she promised, putting a gentle hand on Lilith’s shoulder, “He’ll heal. It’s not going to be an easy recovery, That’s a nasty poison, how did it happen?”

Lilith sighed, rubbing her throbbing leg. “He… has some powerful enemies.”

“At his age?”

“Please, just…”

“Right. None of my business. Come along, we’ll take care of him, you need recover yourself. That’s a nasty bunch of scratches.”

Lilith shook her head. “I’m staying.”

The witch shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

She bustled out, and Lilith gave Hunter’s hand a squeeze. His breathing was already starting to even out, but his face was still creased with pain. Lilith put her forehead to his.

I want to understand.

“With this spell declared,” she murmured, “Let the pain be shared.”

Almost immediately, her gut seemed to burst, writhing and twisting, like she was being stabbed over and over again. She doubled over, gasping for breath.

He’s been feeling this the whole time?!

Hunter’s face relaxed just a bit, his breathing getting just a little bit easier. Lilith pressed her arms to her stomach, waiting as the pain slowly faded to a dull ache.

How could Kikimora…?

How could anyone—to a kid!

How could he stand it for so long?

Lilith brushed Hunter’s hair out of his face. “You’ve been so brave,” she whispered. He twitched, his eyes opening. They were exhausted, droopy, but alert.

“Hey,” she said softly, “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he croaked. He groaned. “Oh—Emperor Belos is going to be so mad.”

“He’ll be angrier at Kikimora, I’m sure.” Even if he’d ignored the poisoning plot, it actually being carried out and taking Hunter away from coven duties for a few days was another matter.

He’ll be okay.

Emperor Belos won’t let this go unpunished—Kikimora won’t be let near him

I have to believe that.

Kikimora wasn’t the only problem he faced, though. Could she really let him go back, knowing how things were at the coven? How Belos was?

Hunter pushed himself up. He was still shaky, still weak, but he swung his legs out of bed. “I should go.”

Lilith pushed him back. “You were only just cured, and it’s dangerous out there—give it a couple of days, at least.”

He shook his head, and Lilith could see a flash of fear in those magenta eyes, making her wonder if maybe not all of the shaking was from the aftereffects of the poison. “I—I’ve been away from the coven long enough, I need to go back, I need to report in. I need to go h—to the keep.”

Lilith caught his hand as he tried to go. “Hunter—if you go back to the coven—”

“I’ll be sure to clear your name. Maybe I’ll even put in a good word for you—you did save my life, after all.”

“No, that wasn’t what I was going to ask. I just… do you want to go back?”

He pulled away from her, shuffling towards the door on unsteady feet. “That doesn’t matter.”

He was out the door, leaving her sitting in her chair.

This is what you wanted.

He’ll clear your name.

Heal the boy.

Split ways forever.

That had been her plan, that was what she’d hoped for.

But if she did nothing, he’d stay in the coven. She’d had Eda to pull her out of the coven, away from Belos. If she did nothing, who would pull Hunter away?

Lilith pushed herself to her feet, summoning her staff and leaning heavily on it, hobbling out into the hallway.

“Hunter, wait!” she called.

He stopped, turning back towards her.

“Don’t go,” she panted, limping up to him, “You don’t have to go back to the keep.”

“What?!” he yelped.

“They think you’re dead by now—you don’t have to go back, they’re not expecting you back, because they think you’re dead. You can do whatever you want.”

“Where would I go?!”

“Stay with me,” she said impulsively, “We made a good team—we can get your palisman and then leave the coven behind forever. If you want.”

Just don’t go back.

You’re miserable.

They make you shut up.

They don’t care about you.

They make you work when you’re hurting.

They make you feel useless, replaceable.

Just don’t go back.

Her raven cawed a soft “what are you doing” warning. Hunter blinked, bewildered.

“But what about you, what about clearing you?! If they think I’m dead, they’ll think you’re a murderer!”

Lilith waved a hand. “My sister managed to evade capture for years. You and I, two emperor’s coven heads? Please. They’ll never catch us.” She took his hands. “You don’t have to stay with me if you don’t want to. But… Hunter, I don’t want you to go back. You have a chance to start over—you finally have a say in your future. What do you want?”

Xxx

What do I want?

What did he want?

To go back. To go back to his uncle, back to his coven, back to his life.

But the idea of not going back, the idea of getting his palisman and setting off on his own—or maybe with Lilith—was frighteningly appealing, exciting.

No. Belos cares about you. He needs you—go back.

Or…

Hunter’s heart thumped wildly in his chest as a horrible, treacherous idea started circulating in his head.

Go back.

Sneak in.

See how Belos was reacting to his supposed death.

See if he really cared.

It was ridiculous, it was risky, and it was treason, it was a betrayal, he couldn’t do that to his uncle, he couldn’t let him think he was dead just for some kind of—of—of selfish self-affirmation!

He still wanted to do it.

No. No, no, no. Even if he didn’t want to go back to the coven—which he did—he couldn’t leave Lilith in the lurch like that. She’d gone through all of this, had taken him all the way here, had gotten injured so that he could clear her name. Even if she said it was okay, he couldn’t do that to her.

Yes.

Going back was the right thing to do.

His legs wouldn’t take the step.

Lilith had never liked him in the coven, no matter how much he tried. When he’d been younger, he’d tried to get into her interests, tried to learn about history to get close to her, tried everything he could to get in her good graces. He’d realized at about thirteen that she’d never like him, and he was wasting his time, and Belos loved him and that was what mattered. Once he’d stopped trying for her approval, once he decided to treat her like she treated him, he’d thought that would be the end of it.

Now? Now Lilith wanted him to stay.

Huh, all it took was a poisoning.

He told himself it didn’t matter, he told himself that the approval of a traitor, the approval of some person who wasn’t even in charge of him anymore didn’t matter.

That didn’t eliminate the warm glow he felt at being wanted.

It didn’t eliminate her voice whispering you’re brave, you’re strong.

It didn’t eliminate a bigger hand closing over his own.

Which was why he had to go—besides, the fact, of course, that he wanted to go back, of course he did.

For her.

Despite her words, he knew the coven would track her down eventually. If they hurt her, it would be his fault for not clearing her name.

So go with her.

Protect her.

He hesitated, not wanting to pull his hands away. “I… I don’t want to go,” he said in a small voice.

“Then stay,” Lilith said simply, “We can make it work. If you want.”

I do. I do want. “We’ll get my palisman?”

“We’ll get your palisman.”

I’m sorry, Uncle.

Maybe I’ll come back some day.

But I want to figure out my own future.

Hunter pulled his hands out of hers. “You really think we make a good team?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I think we can. If we don’t kill each other first.”

Hunter’s heart pounded in his chest, the blood roaring in his ears.

Go. Don’t go. Stay. Leave. Coven. Traitor. Stay. Leave. Stay. Leave. Stayleavestayleavestayleavestayleavestay.

Hunter shook his head, clearing his thoughts. No turning back.

“Then let’s make it work.”

#toh #the owl house #toh hunter #lilith clawthorne #the golden guard #my writing #toh fanfiction #writing requests

43 notes · View notes

devilrainbunnie · 3 years

Text

Bad, So Bad

Dom!Tomura Shigaraki x Sub!Fem!Reader

a/n: this photo of shig is literally so hot i hate him. i don’t know what it is, but this photo makes me wish he’d throw me down a flight of stairs. tomura shigaraki i would like to ask for your hand in marriage. that’s all. also it keeps switching because i feel like nasty shig would just call you everything— a slut, a pet, a good girl, a brat— he likes it all. idk if that makes sense but, it does to me hehe.

cw: smut, 18+ minors do not interact i check for it, dom shiggy, face fucking, drool, hardcore sex, breeding kink?, jealous tomura, pet play, slight angst

Quite honestly, you were pissing him off a fuck ton since the morning. Tomura had been busy the entire week with planning, traveling, and focusing on a new mission of his that required a lot of thought from his unprepared mind. That week, he had paid you little to no mind. Going about his routine, and brushing you off any time you tried to gather his attention. You’d even put on his favorite set of lingerie, thigh highs, cat ears and all, he just brushed you off entirely. Not caring how sexy you happened to look, he was too busy doing other stuff, and you were simply just in his way. Not once had Tomura denied you like that, he was a raging sex fiend. It was so out of character you almost considered the possibility of him being under the effect of a quirk.

Today however, you reversed the roles. Not acknowledging him at all like you usually do in the morning, instead of your typical ‘good morning, how’d you sleep?’. You just rolled off the bed, and walked into the bathroom. Not even batting an eye at his half-concious state, he found it a bit out of character for you but, maybe you had just simply forgotten to say something, or didn’t notice he was awake. But that also didn’t make much sense to him, you could sense his presence the second he stepped foot into a room. It’s also not like you to still not acknowledge him even if he was asleep, hell, sometimes he’d wake up with you sucking his dick. He’s even caught you talking to him as if he was awake once, you got so embarrassed, you probably did think he was awake. Yes, he did tease you about that, and yes, it is still one of the only things in the relationship that can make you go absolutely mute with humiliation.

Then after that, you walked out wearing the skimpiest outfit he’d ever seen you wear in front of the rest of the league. You were wearing a cute little short dress that rode up midway between your thighs, some soft socks that left an inch or so gap of skin beneath your dress, and a soft cardigan you’d often wear to cover yourself before Tomura was due to come back. You looked sexy, wearing an outfit he loved to see you in, and he knew that it was meant to drive him wild. His jaw was clenched the entire time he was getting ready, he almost gripped the door handle so hard his last finger touched. He hated how often he’d have to replace the door handles around the bar, it wasn’t even funny how much money he’d already spent.

Tomura walked out, about to go to a meeting with Giran, as he headed into the main room of the bar, he saw you on the couch. Posed all innocently, with a lollipop in your mouth, and watching something on your phone. Before he decided to leave, he tried to say goodbye to you, and you simply just got off of the couch, walking into another room, all while you refused to take your eyes off of your phone. His chest felt a little tight after that, and his knuckles were constantly tightly held in a fist. Tomura began to feel a bit insecure, were you losing feelings for him? No, that wouldn’t happen though, then what’s going on with you? What-- oh, oh… you want to play like that? Make him all worked up, angry, and jealous so he’ll pay attention to you? Good luck.

Then the worst happened around when he came back, it was about 12 hours later. The entire night, in the back of his mind he was thinking about what to do with you now. Should he apologize? Should he just start ignoring you back? Should he just have sex with you already? Did you want it rough, or something? Is that why you were being such a goddamned brat? He didn’t know, this was new to him. But his mind was suddenly made as he caught visuals on the horrendous sight in front of him. There you were sat at the bar, cardigan long forgotten about, and replaced by Dabi’s flirtatious aroma. You were obviously drinking a bit, and the patchwork villain took it upon himself to inch closer to you. Tomura stood outside of the door frame for a bit, watching as the two of you conversed. Dabi was practically throwing himself on you, his hand soon closed in on the small of your back, his body turned to face you. Tomura stood practically fuming, so angry in fact he had to hold back from grabbing him by his chin, and turning him away from the league for good— translated as turning him into nothing more but a pile of ash. But a part of him wanted to act rationally to the situation, if we were playing oblivious tonight, Tomura was just going to have to punish you the best way he knows how to punish you. May the heavens be with your poor cunt tonight.

The blue haired man took it upon himself to enter the space, squeezing himself between the two of you. Grabbing Dabi’s filthy paws off of you, making it a point to grab your thigh with his pinkie raised. “I think it’s about time you went to bed, right, Dabi?”

Dabi sighed, running his hand through his raven locks. “Yup.” he turned his attention back to you. “Night sweet cheeks, don’t like crusty over here bite.”

“She’ll be just fine, besides-- she likes when I bite her.” he began to kiss your neck, sucking a soft piece of flesh at your sweet spot while watching the man awkwardly try to exit the scene. The little airy moan that left your lips causing the man to smirk, Tomura’s cock twitching at the sound. “Remember what I told you Dabi. I expect this to not happen again, or else.”

‘What?’ You thought to yourself. It’s true, Tomura had a conversation with Dabi once the two of you practically became official. Well, it was less of a conversation and more of Tomura saying ‘if you touch my girlfriend ever again I’ll disintegrate your limbs and watch you flop around like a fish.’ but you didn’t need to know that. He was just protecting you after all. Just like he was now, fully caging your body under his hold, your back to his chest as he nibbled on your sweet flesh. Absolutely enraged with you, and your recent behavior. Going slow, and soft with you, despite his absolute craving to tear you apart with his cock. Watch you beg, and cry for him.

“You’ve really upset me today, Y/n. You know how much you mean to me, so why must you be so rude with me? Crushed my heart babe. That’s not what good girls do. So we’re going to do things my way, no complaints, no buts, no ifs-- only good girls get it how they want it. You haven’t been a good girl, isn’t that right?” he asked, his lips tickling the shell of your ear as he whispered to you.

“N-No, you’re right. I haven’t been good. I’ve been bad, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—“ you begged, knowing exactly what was about to happen to you. Not wanting him to stop at all, but enjoying the feeling of his unhinged, sex-driven energy.

“— Aht, aht. What did I say? Good girls get it how they want it, don’t try to save face now.” he chuckled darkly, picking you up from your bar stool, smashing you roughly against the bar counter. Making sure your plump rear was in perfect view of his face. He was quick to lift up your little dress, staring at the lacy f/c panties you had on. Cupping your ass in his hands, roughly squeezing the flesh as he tried to gather the smallest peak at your warm folds. “So pretty, bet it’ll look even more cute covered with bruises.”

You couldn’t even lie, you felt your stomach tingle with desire at his words. There was always something so attractive about Tomura becoming so dominant with you out of jealousy, or just in general. Even though you’d be sore for a couple of days, the whips, bruises, and aching muscles were worth it. Nothing was better than having Tomura absolutely destroy your body after a long while of his touch being absolutely neglected from you, but never had it honestly been from work stress. Mostly due to his longer missions you were forbidden to go on. Needless to say, you were bubbling with excitement and curiosity. Was he going to punish you different from the last times? You’d never ignored him before like this, this was going to be fun.

“I want you to count every strike, out loud. Okay?” he didn’t wait for you to reply. Raising his hand in the air, and swinging it open palm directly against your bare cheek. You whimpered out loud, the slap echoing in the room, and a burning sting against your cheek.

“O-one.” you croaked out, trying to bare with the pain of the slap. Your lacy underwear slowly becoming soaked as you anticipated his next move.

Tomura gave you almost no time to recover, as he brought his palm up to slap your other cheek. You cried out in pain and pleasure, clenching your teeth so hard you swore your jaw was going to fall off.

“Ahh! Two!” you whimpered yet again, feeling tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes as he continued his striking. Going until he noticed your flesh become hot to the touch, and absolutely raw. Your face was now covered in salty tears, and your pussy drooled against your thighs at this point.

He must’ve noticed this, as he was quick to make another smack, but much lighter against your clothed sex. “T-Three?” you questioned.

“No, doesn’t count baby.” he reassured. Bringing his hand up again to smack against your cheek, the skin beginning to feel a bit numb. Watching intently as the soft, squish globe of your now heated cheek jiggled with every movement.

“Th...-- three!” you cried out once again, and he striked another time afterwards. Making you count out every single time, until the count reached 30.

You were left a crying mess below him, ass cheeks glowing a bright red, and a strong burning that made the sore muscle grow numb. The man atop of you was grinning wildly at your pain, proud of the way he was able to dominate you, and punish you. Even as your cunt was drooling, and his cock was growing painfully hard, he wasn’t quite ready yet to give into the temptation of absolutely destroying your squishy little insides. You were being a brat, and quite frankly, he wasn’t convinced you deserved to have his cock stretching you out. As he ran soothing hands over your back as you calmed down from your sobs, a plan was forming inside of his head. One for you. If he didn’t feel you earned his dick quite yet, you could always use another hole for him-- you know, since you’re absolutely desperate for it.

“You were so good for me. I know it was hard baby.” he cooed, pressing soft kisses to your exposed shoulders. “But it’s not quite over with just yet, I’m going to need you to get on your knees real quick, okay? Will you be a good girl, a good little pet?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Yes who?”

“Yes m-master.”

He helped you jump off of the bar counter, which would’ve been a kind gesture until he forced you to your knees, ripped off his pants and grabbed handfuls of your hair. “Open that pretty mouth of yours, m’kay?” his hand tapped the soft skin of your cheek, your mouth lolling open for his interest. His thumb running up, and down your pretty pink tongue, watching in amazement at how eager you were. He chuckled at you, pulling his hand away to bring his boxers down to his mid thigh, his large pale member flopping out. The tip flushed a hot pink, and pearls of precum leaking out of it, painfully throbbing in the air, waiting to be stuffed inside of your mouth.

Tomura was quick to thrust inside of your mouth, his entire length forcing itself down your throat. Groaning at the feeling of your warm throat, he decided to go a bit slow at first, enjoying the feeling of your mouth sucking him in. “Mm, use your tongue baby. Use it.” he croaked, wanting more stimulation and you were happy to give in. Humming happily as you complied, he was quick to grab the back of your head to slam into you a bit more. Despite the tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes, and the fact you were choking around him, you continued to allow him to use your body as he pleased.

After enjoying fucking your throat at a moderate pace, he began to buck into you wildly. Caring more about his own end than your breathing, as he didn’t seem to notice how you were sputtering, and trying to pull away, digging your nails into his thighs. Breath rapidly trying to fill your lungs, the only sounds filled in the room were his grunts, his dirty talk, and you crying out for him to slow down even though there was a dick shoved down your throat. “God you’re so sexy like this, just my little fuck doll. A-All mine-- fuck!” he moaned, his body beginning to tingle at the feeling of it all. He loved being able to use you like this, despite the small tinge of guilt he felt for the way you were basically begging him to stop his hard thrusts. But it wasn’t about you right now, it was about him, and you needed to be a good girl. A good girl who lets their master face fuck them because they weren’t being a good girl.

“I-I’m close, don’t stop doing that-- if you want to be a good girl, you have to milk master and swallow every drop of his cum. You want to be good, hmm?” he asked, slowing down a bit to let you reply. Eagerly nodding, and looking up at him with teary eyes. “Good, good. So good for me right now.”

His thrusts continued for a while as you both worked to bring him the pleasure he deserves. Your hand wanting to work itself inside of your pretty panties to toy with your clit, as now you felt your arousal begin to seep against the insides of your thighs. Even as you struggled to breathe, you wanted nothing more than for him to fuck you until your entire lower region was sore, and in need of desperate rest. Tomura was beginning to drool down his face as he lost himself in the pleasure, becoming a whimpering mess above you like he usually did when he was close to his end. His stomach tingled with the familiar release of his orgasm, “Oh fuck, fuck fuck fuck-- Y/n, so good-- FUCK! NNGH!” hot thick ropes of cum were shot down your throat, and you continued to suck his cock as he was unable to continue his unhuman pace. Making sure to overstimulate him, and gather all of the milk that seeped through his flushed tip until he grew soft inside of you.

“Good girl-- open up, let me see.” he demanded, his fingers on your chin, as you opened your mouth to him. Proving that you swallowed all of it, he smiled and hummed. “So pretty, and so good. You deserve a reward, don’t you think baby?”

“Please master. I want.”

“Want what? Use your words.”

“I want you to fuck me. Please? Please, master?” you begged, your eyes glimmering in the dim light of the bar. Which always made him melt at the sight of it, his dick sprung back to life in front of your face.

“Of course, after all, you did a lot of hard work. Get up on the counter.” he commanded of you, which you did so with ease. Plopping yourself to sit on top of the bar counter, your hands at your sides holding on to it as you waited. Tomura walked right up in front of you, leaning into you with a mischievous grin. His hands cupping your face for a moment as he admired your features-- even now, when things like this happened, he still found it hard to believe someone as utterly gorgeous was his. Someone he could fuck, and man handle the way he wanted to, without you ever complaining. You willingly went along with it, and even begged him to do it. He dropped his hands from your face, his lips capturing yours instead. His kiss was dominating, passionate, and a little rough on your end. He could easily sense your agitation in wanting to be stuffed already, and he wanted to help.

Tomura snaked a hand down to your thigh, tracing up the flesh to your panties, and grabbing the fabric with all five of his fingers. Feeling the lace slowly disintegrate between his fingers, his other hand came to lift up your dress. Exposing your bare pussy to the cold air of the bar, he was quick to notice just how turned on you were. Slick was everywhere, he couldn’t wait to dive straight into you. As the kiss continued, and Tomura explored the inside of your mouth with his tongue, his fingers began to toy with your weeping cunt that begged to be stuffed as soon as humanly possible. You whined into his mouth as a finger came to flick at your clit. Visibly and verbally annoyed at his ministrations to please you. He pulled away with a chuckle, grabbing his cock in his hands to pump, and align with your entrance.

The tip slowly began to sink itself into you, the stretch was one to accommodate to as you allowed your walls to relax around him. As he stood still inside you, he removed his mouth from yours, and began to leave wet kisses along your neck. “If you keep clenching around me like that, I might cum before you.” he joked, whispering in your ear. “But you’re not going to cum until I say so. You’ll do that for me, right?”

“Yes master.” you said breathlessly, and he began to rock into you. His thrusts long, and exaggerated. Trying to get you used to the brutal pace he often set for the two of you. The sounds of your skin slapping, and cunt squeal hung with every thrust. A perfect harmony to the sound track of a very upset Tomura.

Tomura was quick to put your legs over his shoulders. Preparing you for a mating press as his hands secured at the bare flesh of your thighs. Revealing at the feeling of your silky smooth skin under his cracked palms, everything about you was absolutely perfect. “Pretty girl.” he cooed, leaning forward to kiss you gently, before he began his attempt at brushing your cervix and pelvis bone.

When his pace began to increase, you mewled. Letting out the heavenly sound you knew could drive Tomura absolutely insane. He smiled with heavily lidded eyes above you, his mouth hanging open, most likely preparing to slobber all over you like usual. “You like that? Master’s cock filling every inch of your hole? Hmm?”

“Yes! God yes!” you whined out, your fingernails digging into the ridges of the wooden counter top. Trying to stabilize yourself as you felt yourself quickly growing close.

“Were you being a bad girl because you wanted this to happen?” you nodded, unable to speak as the only thing that left your mouth was broke moans. Tomura didn’t seem to like this much. “Answer when spoken to, pet.”

“Yes! I-I wanted m-master’s cock! I- I needed your— cock so bad! I was b-bad! You’re so big, I can’t!” you admitted, his wicked grin appearing for a second and quickly going back to his opened mouth panting.

“Is masters cock the best cock you’ve ever had?” he questioned, wanting to see how far he could push you until you snapped.

“Yes! Masters co-cock is the best cock! Fuck! The best!”

“Who’s making you feel this way?”

“You!” you cried out, his thrusts getting more frantic as you felt the pressure in your lower abdomen begin to build. A coil needing to be broken. Whining, moaning, and mewling your way closer to orgasming for the first time in the past week. It was all worth it, especially to the man above you.

“Scream it out— scream out my name.”

“Tomura! Fuck! Please— god, you’re so good! Fuck! Please don’t stop! Don’t stop! Tomura!” you begged as he continued to rut into you, always knowing how to perfectly supply his eager demands. At this rate, he’s sure you were made for him. Your pussy fit around his cock heavenly, you clenched around him when he wanted you to do it, and never have you failed at being a soaking mess whenever things got heated. He was the only man able to drive you this feral.

The pace of his slamming hips continued, each thrust tapping your cervix with his tip. Making the deep feeling of his long, thick cock even more appetizing. He could tell how well he was doing when he noticed your eyes struggling to look back at him, constantly rolling back into your skull as he quite literally fucked your brains out. His free hand went to your mouth, opening up the wet cavern as he dropped some of the drool that had been forming in his mouth inside. Letting you swallow his taste.

He’s a sick fuck, who likes to fuck. What more can be said?

His slobbering mess didn’t stop there, he latched on to your neck, legs still over his shoulders. Leaving deep bruises in its wake, and enjoying the way you shuddered every time he created a new bruise. His hands sneaked their way to your chest to fondle your breasts, enjoying how they pebbled in the air of the room and especially under his touch. After leaving an array of dark bruises across your neck and collarbone, your chest was his next target. Suckling softly on your nipples, and using a free hand to twist, and tweak the neglected sister. The sway of his hips becoming less rough as he put his attention into his favorite part of you: your pretty titties.

After a while of thoroughly marking you, and covering your upper half with so many love bites people more think you’re permanently dark shades of purple like Dabi. He resumed his focus on the deep strokes inside your tight cunny beginning to piston into you, and toy with your little clit between his pointer and thumb. Panting like a dog above you, and thriving off of watching how hard you tried to restrain, and suppress your pleasure. “I’m getting close— fuck, keep clenching like that babe. Cum when I say to, okay?” he demanded, looking into your eyes.

“Okay— fuck, Tomura!”

You continued to let out broken phrases of pleasure, and his name. Allowing yourself to fully drink in the setting, and his member reshaping your insides to accommodate to him like a perfect cock sleeve. As he pounded into you, he kept demanding you to call out who exactly is making you feel good. At the time you didn’t think much of it, but Tomura wanted Dabi in the other room to hear just exactly everything that was going on after he left.

Soon, the overwhelming knot inside of him came closer, and closer to its release. As did your own, his thrusts because more frenzied, as if he was in a panic trying to get you both closer. “Take it, take it! Fucking slut, my little slut. A-Are you my little slut, baby?”

“I’m m-master Tomura’s s-slut! I o-only live for his c-cock!” you whined, wanting to give him exagtly what he liked to hear.

“Keep saying my name baby. Please. Fuck.” he begged, grabbing your neck to squeeze. “Brat. My b-brat, my bad g-girl, my disobedient pet— so naughty sometimes. Only this cock can set you straight. Isn’t that right?” he teased, looming over you. Breath rapidly fanning across your face.

“Master’s c-cock is s-superior! You’re s-so big Tomura. So fucking big, and good. Tomura please—... I can’t hold out anymore p-please!” you squealed, bringing your hands to the forearms that connected the hands against your throat. Trying to convince him with your touch to let you cum.

“Just a bit l-longer... mm, good girl.” he continued to squeeze at the sides of your neck, not even minding your hands on his arms.

Soon his thrusts became sloppy, and weak as his end was peaking. Your fleshy, warm walls thightly hugging his cock and trying to milk his cock for all he was worth, you were always good at that. Sucking him basically dry out of each, and every hole of yours. Tomura whimpered loudly above you on accident when you clenched tightly around him, you smiled at the sound. “Fuck, Y/n I’m gonna cum. Cum. Cum-baby.” he begged, thrusts continuing their sloppy mannerisms as his seed was shot inside of you. “Take it! Take it! Fucking shit! Y/n!” You released, crying out his name, and clawing at his arms. Your moans turned into screams rather quickly. Hot splashes of cum drowning themselves in your wet womb, your tight hole continued to clench, and unclench as you came down from your high. It was like a floodgate of euphoria had been released, and your body was floating now. The stuffed feeling inside of you comforted you as your cunt tried to relax from the abuse. Tomura wanted to fill you up a million times now, until your tummy got a bulge from how much cum was inside of you. Until you were filled to the brim with his seed, fuck it, maybe he does want kids.

“We’re not done yet baby, still gotta’ let that burnt crisp know who exactly is allowed to touch my pet.” he smirked, member slowly beginning to grow back to life inside of you.

Little did they know, Dabi was outside of the room, cum covering his white tee shirt, and calloused hands. Panting wildly at the sounds you were making.

Tomura was going to make sure now, your only moans were ever of his name.

Even more so now.

You’re his pet after all.

taglist: @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love @jojosbisexualbrainrot @hawksxmexdabi

#shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #bnha au #bnha x reader #shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki headcanons #shigaraki smut #shigaraki angst #shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki #smut #bnha smut #18+#cw: pet play #dom shigaraki #incel shigaraki

280 notes · View notes

trashmenofmarvel · 3 years

Text

Branded - Chapter 55

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: The aftereffects of the ritual hit you both harder than expected.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by araniaart . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

Chapter Warnings: Explicit sexual content

AO3

You sprang from the bed, slipping on the hardwood floor with only your socks as traction, but you caught your balance as you raced across the room. Barely pausing as you threw open the door, you ran, guided by…

…by a thin golden thread, faint but present if you concentrated and focused on the feeling of an other connection. One that was familiar, yet different. It was strong enough for you to follow, something that had only happened when Bucky had been in supposed danger.

But this time, there was no rage, no blinding anger and hatred. You were anxious, terrified of what you would find at the end of that thread.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to go far. Only to another guest bedroom barely twenty feet away, and you burst through that door with just as much urgency as the last.

Two healers and four guards were stationed around the room. The healers you recognized by their pale blue robes, and they were both standing to one side of a bed, a bed you knew you had to quickly reach.

The sorcerers on guard didn’t stop you. In fact, they gave you something of a berth, stepping out of the way in your haste to get past them. The healers, too, didn’t block your path, and you didn’t question any of it. All you could think about was getting to Bucky.

As soon as you saw him, you knew something was wrong. Bucky looked exactly the same, but he was too still. His breathing too shallow and slow. You placed your hands on his bare chest, his skin too pale and cold.

Closing your eyes, you reached out, feeling for the demon energy within him. You found it after pushing your concentration further, so faint you almost couldn’t sense it. Whatever the ritual had done, it had drained him of too much energy.

Perhaps for the first time, you were truly grateful for your particular brand of magic as you kept your palms pressed to his chest, letting the energy seep from your hands into the core of his own magic. Your hands tingled pleasantly and your eyelids fluttered, but before you could give him any more of the energy he needed, Bucky shuttered beneath your palms and bolted upright.

You took a single look at his face, slightly turned your head, and over your shoulder said:

“Leave.”

The sorcerers didn’t need to be told twice. Pheromones were already cloying in the air, heavy with enticing perfume.

The door barely shut behind the last guard before you were pulled off your feet. Bucky’s face was at your neck, tasting and licking your skin, his claws tightly gripping the thick cloth of your robes.

You didn’t bother speaking; Bucky was too far gone to hold a conversation. He was starving, ravenous, and even if you couldn’t sense it across the bond, you would have known it in the pitch black of his eyes as he’d stared at you like a meal he wanted to devour.

As he pulled you down onto the bed, pressing you into the covers, you welcomed it. You did make a noise of protest when he ripped off the silver robes, his claws making quick work of the soft material.

All thoughts of your ruined outfit fled as Bucky gripped your thighs and spread them, his sharp teeth scraping against your throat, his breath heavy. You weren’t much better, your body thrumming with anticipation as you attempted to touch every inch of him you could. It was the kind of desperate, wild hunger Bucky hadn’t felt in a long time, and getting a taste of it across the bond was going to drive you mad.

Bucky didn’t let it get that far. There was no patience in him, his need was too strong for that, and when he rubbed the head of his cock across your entrance, you nearly saw stars.

Your breathing stuttered and you wrapped your legs around his waist, angling your hips upward until the tip was pressed against your soaking entrance.

Bucky lowered his hands to your hips, gripped tightly, and pushed.

You cried out sharply, in pleasure or pain, it didn’t matter, but you squeezed tightly with your legs, refusing to let him stop or slow down. Bucky, for his part, didn’t do either, and the burning stretch was nearly too much to bear.

But you bore it, and you begged for more in unintelligible words, and Bucky pushed further and further until he was buried up to the hilt and you almost couldn’t breathe. He filled you so completely, in a way that was more satisfying and fulfilling than it had been before. Was this what it was supposed to be like?

“Yes,” you gasped into his ear, twining your fingers in his hair. “Yes, please, Bucky, yes.”

He gave a groan that almost sounded pained, but when he pulled back his hips and thrust, you were the one crying out as if tortured.

But he didn’t stop. Whatever you were feeling across the bond, Bucky could feel it too, and he knew exactly how far he could push you. With each roll of his hips, the pleasure echoed between you, and it wasn’t long before he was fucking you hard into the mattress.

You clung to his back for purchase, mindless from each spark of heat that ignited with each thrust, and your orgasm hit hard and fast without warning. You arched your back and cried out, your muscles seizing up around him, and Bucky shuddered to a stop, his moans buried in your hair.

The energy drain was intense, pulling at you so hard it prolonged your orgasm. Thankfully, you had a lot of energy to give, pulling it from the magic inside you. It was more than Bucky could ever take from one person, and you gave it all, gasping and shuddering until he finally stopped.

Bucky practically collapsed on top of you, careful of his weight but just barely by propping himself on his elbows. Not that you minded. Having two-hundred and forty pounds of demon on top of you would, hopefully, be something frequent in your future.

Without speaking, you rubbed your palms down his back, subtly moving your fingers and casting a minor spell.

Bucky groaned against your neck, slightly shifting his hips, which almost made you drop your concentration.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking to make sure you’re all right.” Your fingers next traced up the back of his wings, since they had come out at some point. You hadn’t even noticed, not with how preoccupied you’d been a moment ago.

Bucky pushed back far enough to meet your eye. His forehead was still beaded with sweat and his hair looked exactly like he’d just had wild sex. You couldn’t help but smirk.

“I’m fine,” he insisted, his voice graveled and scraping up your spine in a pleasant shiver. “Better than fine. Also, that tickles.”

Before you could make good on that delicious tidbit of information, Bucky leaned down and kissed you, so sweetly at first that you couldn’t take a breath. And then he deepened the kiss as he always did, as if he had only meant to have a taste and couldn’t stop himself from taking more.

You parted your lips, opening yourself to him, and his long tongue rolled over yours, grasping it in that indecent way he could do. You wrapped your fingers in his hair and pulled him closer, squeezing him with your thighs, and being rewarded by Bucky’s deep moans.

And then he grabbed you by the hips and rolled you both over, breaking off the kiss and grinning up on you from where you were now straddling him.

“Round two?”

Any thought of telling Bucky what had happened during the ritual, of your impossible meeting with the Ancient One, of doing more extensive tests to make sure he was truly okay, were washed away at his charming grin. Not to mention the more needy part of him throbbing between your legs.

You groaned and bit your lip, more from surprise than trying to be seductive. Bucky still followed the movement with a hungry eye, anyway.

“How can you still be so hungry?” you asked in a whisper. And he was, you could sense it across the bond. It wasn’t nearly as bad as it was before, but Bucky still wasn’t completely full.

“Maybe because you’re just that delicious.”

“Bucky.”

He sighed and had the grace to only mildly roll his eyes.

“I’m fine. Really. Whatever you did to me… yeah it drained the hell out of me, but it worked. I can… I can feel the bond like, like before, but somehow different.”

“Yeah.” Your answer was quiet, the smiles vanished. “What… what do you remember, Bucky? From the ritual?”

He winced only slightly, but it was enough to make you regret asking and making him remember.

“A lot of pain, and blood. And my sigil being opened. You… joined us together at the same time, right? Cut open both our sigils, and hands, and did like a… double-pact kind of thing? Where did you even think of that?”

Your smile was back, this time a tad shaky.

“Uh… not sure. I was just kind of… grasping at straws. Going on instinct and intuition.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes.

You gasped as he sat upright, and it was the last full breath you took, because you were seated firmly in his lap. Meaning his cock was now fully embedded in you again.

Bucky, for his part, didn’t react except for his fully blown pupils and the hint of desire flickering across your bond.

“Are you telling me… you took a dangerous, never-done-before, demonic ritual and… winged it?”

You winced, bracing yourself for the riot act that was surely coming, the one you probably deserved for doing something so dangerous in a snap decision. But it never came.

Bucky gently took your head in his hands and planted a kiss on your forehead.

“That’s my girl.”

You face went so hot you were surprised you didn’t burn him.

“I… well…”

Bucky watched you sputter. His expression was serious enough, but his eyes were sparkling with humor.

“You’re… not mad?”

“No, of course not. Why would I be?” Warmth spread across your bond, mirrored in his eyes. “You accomplished something no one’s done before, despite the obstacles in your way. Strange or Wong or myself be damned, you did this. And I’m proud of you.”

You had no idea what to say, you’d always been bad at accepting compliments, so you leaned forward and kissed him hard.

Bucky made a noise of surprise but returned the kiss without missing a beat. You would have been happy to let it continue and take him up on his offer of a second round, but there was something you had to say first.

Regretfully breaking the kiss, you didn’t go far, meeting his blue eyes and stroking your thumb across his jaw, the always-present stubble brushing against your skin.

“I couldn’t have done any of it without you, so… Thank you for trusting me, Bucky. I can’t imagine what it took for you to do that.”

Now it was Bucky’s turn to flush, the tips of his pointed ears turning pink. Had you ever noticed that before?

“I would trust you with anything, sweetheart.”

He pulled you in for another kiss, this one reflecting the warmth and love flooding across your bond.

Your tail went stiff as goosebumps ran down your arms and legs, and you gave a muffled moan of surprise when Bucky’s tail wrapped around yours. As entwined as you were already, the added sensation on your tail was almost too much, and you buried yourself into the kiss.

“Come here,” he said, smiling against your lips.

This time Bucky pulled you down, and you followed him onto the bed. Touching, reaching, and connecting in ways that you had never thought possible, and in other ways, felt as old as time.

Next Chapter

#branded #demon!bucky x reader #demon!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #my writing #my fanfiction

139 notes · View notes

alexaplaysgames · 3 years

Text

Hideaway

Pairing: Felix Escellun x GN!MC

Fandom: Fictif (Last Legacy)

Rating: T (swearing, dorks making out)

Words: ~2600

Description: Felix and his barista explore his childhood home.

Notes: Felix has all my uwus 🥺 did not post five fics in one day (yet) but I might if convinced.

Thanks to @callioops for the inspiration :)

Please go easy on me I am in no way a fanfiction writer by nature but my love for Felix has evidently overpowered my insecurities ;)

Edit: Uhh.... I was debating between settings for this and realized I made it super ambiguous, so I’ve edited it now!

Warning: This is heavily canon divergent now. Oops.

I’m not even sure how I ended up here, to be quite honest.

But I would’ve had to be crazy to have predicted such a thing- a portal to another dimension (is this another dimension?), a towering manor overflowing with stuffy furniture and servants, a raven-haired goth (although he would protest to such a description) with a bird skull strung around his neck. Honesty, his fashion sense is questionable, though admittedly charming, but I nonetheless can’t seem to get him out of my head.

No, this is the stuff of fantasies born to the insane, of perhaps just the slightly deranged.

I’m not protesting, however, quite the contrary. As I pull Felix through the winding corridors of his childhood home, trying not to thing about the smooth softness of his cool hand in mine, I can honestly say that I haven’t had such fun in a very, very long time.

“Stop, stop!” Felix laughingly protests between laboured breaths, tugging on my hand. I gradually slow to a halt, our footsteps echoing in the large, surprising empty corridor, and Felix slips his hand from mine to brace his hands on his knees as he pants. I try to ignore the resulting disappointment that pangs in my chest and grin.

“You doing okay there, bird boy?”

Apparently, he still has the energy to raise his head and glare.

“My apologies, dear barista, that I have not your physical endurance.” He rolls his eyes, then pauses and smirks. “My being a magical prodigy has spared me the effort of such trivial things as exercise.” He spits the last word out with a scoff.

My grin widens as I saunter closer, placing a finger under his chin to raise his gaze to meet mine from where he is still bent over and panting.

“Perhaps we’ll just have to work on your stamina then, won’t we?”

Felix’s cheeks flush that pretty red that I know has nothing to do with exertion as he ducks his head. I smirk as I turn to examine the nearby wall, giving him time to collect himself. How fun it is to make him blush.

A row of framed paintings lines the wall, all of the equally bizarre. I try to make sense of the faces in them, but the harder I look, the more blurred they become. They are all covered in a discernible layer of dust, indicating that this hallway is rarely used. A peculiar sort of coldness rolls off of the strange pieces, one that has me averting my eyes from the freaky, obviously magically concealed paintings.

“Do you think anyone will find us here?”

I question as I turn to see Felix straightening and running a hand through his hair. I try not to let my eyes follow the motion, choosing instead to meet his icy gray gaze.

He seems perturbed as he looks around, biting his lip. It’s as if he’s just realized where we are. His fault for letting me lead him through the monstrous maze that is his home.

“No. Escell has not entered this corridor in years. I’m surprised he has not blocked it off. He rather enjoys avoiding all things that make him uncomfortable.”

“And what makes him uncomfortable about this wing?”

“Too many memories, my dear. Memories he would prefer to keep locked up.” Though he says it with a smirk, tapping one black-painted fingernail against his temple, it comes out only as sounding rather sad.

I open my mouth to reply, but am interrupted by a sharp-

“Master Felix! Enough with your foolish hiding!”

Felix’s eyes widen as he visibly flinches. “Great goddess, have mercy.”

The voice of Madam Usoro, an angry, mean, lump of a woman, sounds like it is coming from just down the long hall. I cringe inwardly, and probably outwardly, at the thought of meeting her again. According to Felix, she was one of his many childhood nannies (the only one that actually managed to survive his torments), and judging by her scowl, she hasn’t had a “me day” since then.

Unfortunately, Escell also assigned her the task of watching over Felix.

“Ridiculous,” he huffs, “it is as if I am nine years old again!”

My gaze darts frantically between the doors lining the walls, not sure where any of them lead.

I grab Felix’s sleeve and tug, though his eyes stay trained on the end of the hallway, his expression resigned.

“Felix!” I hiss, “which of these goddamn doors will get us out of here?”

He merely sighs. “Why bother? My inevitable capture fast approaches, thus I have decided to be accepting of my fate. I will remain here as a prisoner for the rest of my days while Escell continues to treat me like a babbling infant.”

Great. Now really isn’t the time for his dramatics. I lunge forward and lock my hand around his wrist, tugging him once more down the endless corridor of doors. I feel Felix stiffen as I go to open the first door that catches my eye, but I yank it open and pull him inside before he can protest. The door shuts with a satisfying click and we are alone in a strange, dark room.

“Felix?” I cannot see a thing.

A flash of light, and then Felix appears, a green

orb of light glowing in his palm. I suck in a breath as I take in the captivating way the light hits his features, highlighting his long eyelashes and silvery eyes.

“Apologies! I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

I shake my head, unable to divulge to him the truth. I can’t have him knowing about my strange infatuation. Though I often indulge in what I consider to be harmless flirtation, I know Felix obviously isn’t interested in me. Just days ago he was crying over me, thinking I was someone else! The thought is sobering, and I shake my head.

“What is this room?”

“Ah,” he appears uncharacteristically lost for words. “This is... nothing. We can wait here, I’m certain she’ll cease her endless badgering soon enough.”

I send him a thumbs up before I turn to examine the room. I might as well look around, if there’s nothing else to do but sit around.

“Wait!” Felix’s sharp cry is especially harsh in the quiet of the strange room.

My head jerks up. “What is it?”

“I simply think it best not to carelessly voyage through the uncertainties of the dark. You haven’t a clue what you could stumble upon.”

Something about his tone sounds off, but I sigh and move back towards the door anyway. I have learned that there is no use arguing with him.

I’m almost near the safe haven of Felix’s orb of light when my foot slips on something. I manage to catch myself, but lean down and pick up the offensive item out of curiosity.

It’s a bound, leather notebook. It looks worn, from what I can tell in the faint light, and I flip it open to the inside cover, ignoring Felix’s faint protests in the back of my mind. On the right page are lines of scrawling, messy and unintelligible handwriting. But that’s not what catches my eye. On the left, the page reads:

Property of Felix Iskandar Escellun

I lift my gaze to meet Felix’s guilty visage.

“This is yours?”

He cringes but attempts to hide it with a shrug. The movement does not at all look natural on him.

“You are aware I was raised here?” He snatches the journal out of my grasp with his free hand, then quirks a brow. “Why are you surprised to find an object previously in my possession?”

Felix is an atrocious liar. I glance around the room and suddenly it hits me where we are.

“This was your bedroom, wasn’t it?”

Although Felix is, I assume, currently staying somewhere else, his reaction leaves me with no doubt in my mind that this used to be his room.

Felix bites his lip (he really needs to stop doing that lest I get distracted) then slowly nods. With another sigh, he presses his palms together, then spreads them apart until green light flows throughout the room, the night vision goggle-like effect making it look like we’re on an episode of ghost hunters.

“I would rather not spend time sifting through old memories,” Felix says quietly from beside me as I observe my surroundings.

The room is relatively sparsely decorated. In the centre of the opposite wall is a large, canopy bed, the sheets tossed to the side and the curtains haphazardly thrown about. A large desk is pressed up against one wall, overflowing with notebooks and stacks of parchment, and a bookcase on the opposite wall is spilling over with messily arranged books. A large, elegant armchair is piled high with odd boxes near the middle of the room, and an open armoire is empty save for a pile of clothing laying at the bottom. The whole place is a mess, and though the furniture is very fine, Felix’s attempts to hide that fact are quite obvious. The few windows are boarded up, the curtains surrounding them singed. In fact, there are several odd burn marks on the floor, and I don’t think they’re due to the large stone fireplace.

“Wow.” Very eloquent of me to say.

“Ugh. I despise this room.”

I drift curiously about making note of the objects in the room. Aside from the pieces of writing, there is very little here to signify that the room was Felix’s.

I walk over to the window and am pleased to find the the large wooden board covering it is relatively easy to dislodge. Behind it, there is a window seat, and I glance out the window to see a view of the rolling hills that stretch far and beyond, illuminated by the moonlight.

Felix flops onto the window seat with a sigh. I sit beside him and try to ignore the fact that our knees touch.

Felix squeezes his eyes shut. “I apologize for my theatrics, dear barista, but I would truly rather leap off the highest tower of the castle of Porrima than suffer through living in this room again.”

I refrain from telling him that I did, in fact, almost leap off the castle’s highest tower, and it is not as fun as he makes it out to be.

He hardly ever speaks of his past without flippant disregard for true emotion. “Will you tell me why it was so bad, Felix?”

His eyes shoot open and he scoffs, though his eyes glisten in the moonlight which shines through the window.

His voice is small as he replies. “I was forced every day to live a life I hated in hopes of pleasing a father whose love I already knew I would never earn. I have never felt so useless, so pathetically desperate, as I felt here. And here I am, back again. All my work to escape this place has been for naught.”

My heart aches for him, the expression on his face causing a physical pain in my chest.

“Felix...” I say softly, and before I even register what I’m doing, my hand is grabbing his.

Felix meets my gaze, eyes wide. Every time I touch him he gets so surprised, and I wonder how often he has been touched lovingly in his life.

“I would never think you useless, Felix, never. You are so extraordinary, so brilliant, and it’s a shame that you can’t see it. You have done so much for me and... I need you. Not just to get home, I don’t even know if I care about that anymore, but because you’ve make me so happy, Felix. Being with you feels like being able to breathe. I know that everyone else has left you, but I promise you, I never will. Never.”

His lips part in shock at my words and this time I can’t stop my eyes from flickering down to his mouth. He is so beautiful. I would do anything to kiss him, even just once.

Felix raises his hand and his fingers draw lines down my cheek, making me shiver. Then he leans forward and presses his forehead against mine, closing his eyes.

“Thank you.”

The words are said so quietly that I barely hear them, but I don’t need to with the gratitude that seems to roll off of him in waves.

“Felix?”

“Hm?”

A pause.

“Do you ever think about me?”

“I... I- of course I do. You have consumed every aspect of my waking life.” I can hear a slight teasing in his voice.

I lick my lips. “Do you ever think of me like you think of Rime?”

I can feel him flinch at the name and am about to apologize before he speaks.

“Rime is gone. A necromancer knows better than to waste energy attempting to recall what has been truly lost.”

“Oh... I-“

He sounds so incredibly sad. Whoever Rime is, I’ve no doubt that Felix loved this person. Though I know I shouldn’t feel jealous of a dead person, envy ripples through my stomach all the same.

“I... do. Think about you.”

And the meaning has changed. He pulls back with a shaky breath, cheeks bright red. “I know I am not the most naturally affectionate person, but I-“

He thinks about me. My heart does a fluttering little happy dance at the thought.

Screw it. If I leave this world, I don’t want to have any regrets.

And that’s the thought that propels me forward as I crash my lips into his with a longing I have never before felt. Felix gasps against my mouth and stiffens, and I panic. What the hell am I doing? But no sooner has the thought left my mind then he relaxes and kisses me back. He kisses me back! And I’ve never felt anything more wonderful.

His hands come to set at my waist as mine cup his face, feeling his jaw work as he kisses me and that makes it all the more real that he is kissing me and this isn’t some sort of fervour dream. I pull his hair free from its tie and tangle my fingers in the silken locks of his hair, and god, it’s just as soft as I thought I would be.

Felix kisses like he talks- a little hestitant, full of passion, and enough to make your head spin. It feels like I’m falling, I don’t know which way it’s up and which is down, just like when he rambles on about spells I could never hope to comprehend, but the drop is thrilling because I’ve wanted it so badly and for so long. At first it’s slow, soft, but I want, so I press myself harder against him in effort to let him know that’s it’s okay for him to let himself take from me what he needs.

HIs hands tighten around my waist as he pulls me closer to him, hands drifting over my sides, and I smile against his lips at his momentary display of forwardness. I retaliate by tugging on his hair that flows between my fingers like water, causing his lips to part against mine as he gasps, the perfect opportunity to slip my tongue into his mouth and I’m worried that I’m moving too fast but he moans. I sling a leg over his thigh and we’re grabbing at each other like horny teenagers now-

Felix pulls away with a gasp (I knew we had to work on his stamina). We’re both breathing hard, echoing in the quiet of the large room, and he blinks rapidly; he looks rather like someone hit him over the head with a brick.

I smile at him, running a thumb over his lower lip, and he lets out a pained noise somewhere between a whimper and a squeak.

“I liked that,” I whisper.

“You- you did?”

I nod. “Of course, Felix. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long.”

“R-really?”

I roll my eyes, responding by leaning forward and pressing another chaste kiss to his lips.

“Me too.” He whispers it like a secret, one that I’ll gladly hold forever in my heart.

Felix tentatively reaches and takes my hand in his, flipping it over and drawing little patterns into my palm as he turns to stare out the window again. It’s soothing, and I don’t really pay attention to the patterns. But after a while I think he starts inadvertently drawing hearts into my skin. It’s rather cute; I didn’t take him for a romantic.

“Master Felix!” The voice sounds from not too far outside Felix’s bedroom door.

“Shit.”

I’m afraid I don’t possess his way with words.

Our eyes meet and we both burst into a fit of giggles as the sounds of Madam Usoro’s footsteps gets louder. Trapped as we are, she’s bound to find us soon. Somehow, I’m not worrried. Nothing could ever take Felix from me.

And he knows that I will never leave him.

#Felix Iskandar Escellun #Felix Escellun #Fictif #Fictif Last Legacy #Last Legacy #Last Legacy Fanfiction #fanfiction #interactive game #Felix Escellun x mc

171 notes · View notes

jaskiersvalley · 3 years

Text

Shards of Ice

There was a lot of yelling in tags, reblogs and comments about Lambert needing to be loved following this post. You should have been more careful with what you wished for, because before things can get better, they need to get worse. But he gets his happy ending, don't worry.

CW: Suicidal thoughts

The room was cold and dusty but Lambert no longer had the energy to care. It was a room, his room, as barren as it was. He had survived trekking up to Kaer Morhen, at least he wouldn't be exposed to the elements so it was a bit better, even if there was no roaring fire. There wasn't even any wood in his room to start one. It would have to wait. Much like food could wait too, Lambert still had a few rations and some water in his pack, that would see him through the next couple of days while his leg finished healing. He so desperately wished he had something to take for it, even just a root to chew on for the pain but he'd run out of potions a while back and had been too caught in grief to even think about making more. At least he had a bed to lie on, that was better than the cold, hard forest floor. Lambert would take any small fortune as a blessing at that point.

Sleep claimed him and didn't release him until the sun was high the next day. Groggy, stiff from sleeping in his armour, and ravenous, Lambert pushed himself up. In the light of day his room looked no better, still just as empty and stale as when he'd walked in. If he could, he would have gone for a wash, anything to freshen up but his leg protested too much. In the end, he sat on the floor next to his bed, munching on a ration of cured meat, willing himself not to feel.

The others had to know he was back. He'd made enough noise, they probably even saw him approaching. But obviously he had no place in their lives. A dogsbody who was good for making their lives easier but didn't warrant anything in return. Not that Lambert did it to get something. But he'd always thought family looked after each other, took turns picking up the slack when one of them stumbled. As the day wore on and Lambert pulled his bedroll onto his bed for a bit of extra warmth, there was only one conclusion he could draw. While he had counted Geralt, Eskel and Vesemir as his family, they didn't think of him in a similar fashion.

On his own with his thoughts, Lambert had the chance to mull it all over. He had been a fool to think his fellow Witchers would consider him part of their family unit. Not even Lambert's own flesh and blood had done that. Just because Destiny threw them in the same cooking pot didn't mean were all part of the same cake. Though Aiden had been different. He had seen Lambert, all of him and decided that he was worth something. Desperate fury at the unfairness of it all had Lambert's lips wobbling even if tears were beyond him. He raged against his lot in life and the fact that the one possible good thing had been ripped from him. Nobody wanted Lambert and, when he found someone who did, they were violently snatched from his grasp.

With nothing do do but sleep and heal, Lambert didn't bother keeping track of the days. While his food and water lasted he would be okay. And when it ran out, he'd decide what he wanted then. Time stopped existing for Lambert, he was either asleep or wallowing in misery. It wasn't like anyone actually cared that his behaviour was very unbecoming of a Witcher, let alone a fully grown man. Lambert figured that if nobody wanted him at his best, it didn't matter what he was like at his worst.

A soft knock woke him from his slumber. It was better to sleep than get lost in his head. Why someone would try to take his only solace from him was beyond Lambert and he woke with a snarl. His leg still pulsed with pain, his room was still cold though he had managed to somewhat air it while the sun was high so it was maybe a little less chilly.

"Lambert?" Eskel's voice called as the door opened. "You missed breakfast again."

All Lambert heard was that he hadn't provided breakfast once again. He'd been back for probably a few days but soft foods and warm honey hadn't magically appeared on the breakfast table for the others. Well, it served them right.

"Go away!" He growled low in his throat.

"I just wanted-"

"Fuck off!" Lambert didn't let Eskel finish. Whatever Eskel wanted, he could get for himself. "I don't want you! I don't need you! Just leave me the fuck alone!" He threw his gloves at the door, followed by his bracers which clanked loudly against the wood, barely missing Eskel's face.

For the first time in his life, Lambert got what he asked for. The door closed again and he was alone. A strangled scream mixed with a sob in his throat and he curled up on the bed, heart and chest aching worse than his leg.

Time had no meaning, Lambert stayed curled up under his blanket, eyes open but not seeing. He'd had enough. Enough pain, enough rejection, enough loneliness. His rations were dwindling but he couldn't even find it in himself to finish them off. There was no point, it would only prolong his suffering.

Another soft knock on his door but he didn't even bother acknowledging it. He was done, the others could get on with their happy little family, they didn't need Lambert in any capacity, that had become obvious in the last few days.

The door opened and Eskel stepped in, an armful of logs and a bag of kindling in hand. He didn't say anything but got a fire going and left. The warmth of the room didn't reach Lambert's heart. He stayed where he was, even when Vesemir stepped in, a bucket of steaming water and a couple of wash cloths. Lambert didn't even have it in him to growl when hands methodically stripped him and wiped the worst of the Path's grime from his body. Fingers deftly worked the bandage on his leg open and, like when Lambert was a kid who'd scraped his knee, the injury got tutted over. Vesemir left and Lambert wondered whether he was such a disappointment that the fact he couldn't even heal from a simple bite had sent the man he'd once considered his father figure turning away in disgust.

For some reason Vesemir was back with a tray. It smelled like medical supplies but Lambert couldn't understand why. Firm hands worked over his leg, cleaning out the wounds, wrapping them. Finally, a vial was tipped against Lambert's lips and he swallowed, hoping it was poison to put him out of his misery. He fell asleep with the sweet bitterness of the potion still on his tongue and decided that maybe this wasn't such a bad way to go.

Unfortunately he woke up again. This time Geralt was in his room, a bowl of broth warming by the hearth. Lambert finally found his words.

"What the fuck do you want?"

He pretended not to see the way Geralt flinched and looked away. It filled him with a sense of perverse satisfaction, knowing that he repulsed his, well, Geralt wasn't his brother, not anymore. Not that he ever was actually.

"Eat," Geralt said, grabbing the warm bowl and holding it up. When Lambert made no move to take it, he fiddled with the spoon. "I can help feed you if you need."

Growling, Lambert snatched the bowl, ignoring the way it was so hot his fingers almost burned. The broth was good, seasoned with his favourites, not that the others would know, they never bothered to ask him. Still, it slid down his throat and warmed his belly, so close to his still stone cold heart.

Anger bubbled in Lambert's chest. The others couldn't even leave him be to make a dignified exit from this world. For some cursed reason now was the time they decided to bring Lambert back, even as he fought tooth and nail to be left. From then on, Lambert never woke alone. There was always someone in his room, never once commenting on his nightmares. Maybe they didn't notice, or thought it was just Lambert's regular dreams.

"Who is Aiden?" Eskel asked one night when Lambert woke, heart in his throat. "You call out for him a lot."

It wasn't something Lambert wanted to answer. He didn't want to trust Eskel with Aiden's memory. It wasn't something he had earned. However, each time Eskel was there and Lambert awoke from a fresh nightmare, he was asked the same question. There was only so many times that Lambert could hear those words before he snapped. At first it was just a gruff "nobody" then a "none of your business" to "a friend". It went on and on like that until Eskel had the full story, with Lambert held close to his chest and shaking like a new born foal.

When Lambert finally left his room, it was with Geralt hot on his heels. Something told Lambert that he knew about Aiden too. Those suspicions were only confirmed when, in the kitchen, Geralt casually said, "I'll come with you in the spring. We'll avenge him."

By the time spring came round, Lambert didn't feel quite so hollow. His heart had started to thaw out but the clump of ice that sat heavy in his chest could barely be called a heart anymore. Over the winter he'd been shown what it could have been like to be part of a family, to be wanted but he couldn't quite connect with the others anymore. The trust he'd offered had been twisted and warped until it was nothing more than a burnt silhouette of what it had once been.

Lambert was no fool. He knew Geralt travelled with him not just for revenge but also for Lambert's safety. It wasn't like Lambert was going to throw himself at the first chort he found. That was not how he wanted to go. But the others didn't care to listen to him in that respect. In a way, nothing had changed in that regard. Lambert's voice was still one to be ignored.

Winter came round quicker than expected. Lambert and Geralt turned north to Kaer Morhen and trekked up the mountain. There was smoke meandering through the air from the fires that had already been lit. It wasn't the Lambert had wanted to come back but he had nowhere else to go either. At least in the old keep he could actually survive winter in relative safety.

"Welcome home boys," Vesemir said as he stepped out the greet them, hugging Lambert first, then Geralt. "Eskel is already home and he's brought a guest with him."

Distantly, Lambert wondered how Geralt would react to Eskel having a guest. And maybe he was a little jealous that Eskel, despite his scars and menacing build, could find someone to winter with so easily. There was only one person Lambert had ever considered inviting home but that had only been a fleeting hope of the past, Destiny had made sure to quash it without hesitation.

"Lamb?" A familiar voice called and Lambert's whole chest hurt. His mind was cruel to play such games, taunting him with the one thing he couldn't have. "Lambert!"

A body barrelled into Lambert, arms wrapping around him tightly. Lips pressed against Lambert's and he tried to see who was stupid enough to mess around with him like that. It wasn't Eskel, his arms felt heavier around him. Eyes open for the kiss, Lambert saw an eyepatch and, as his assailant pulled away, a familiar green eye.

"Aiden." The word was a broken whisper of hope and disbelief. Lambert's hands cupped Aiden's cheeks, held him in place to be inspected, admired and committed to memory. "I thought you'd died. I'd avenged you."

"You're a real darling, thank you for that." Aiden smiled and placed his hands over Lambert's, warm palms holding glove covered ones in place. "But, by some twist of fate, I survived, more or less intact. Took a while to recover, Eskel found me in some remote temple, being healed by some monks. Dragged me back here as soon as I was able to make the journey."

Hands slipping from Aiden's face, Lambert pulled him in for a tight hug, eyes squeezed shut tight. He let Aiden go but only as far as keeping an arm wrapped around his waist. From where he stood, he looked over to the other three Wolves, standing together and watching them. Maybe, just maybe, they were more of a family than Lambert had dared hope. He wasn't certain yet, needed more time to accept that. But, for the first time in a long time, he had he spark of hope flickering in his heart.

#lambden #minor geralt/eskel #lambert #eskel #geralt of rivia #vesemir #aiden #cw: suicidal thoughts #tldr: lambert loses all hope before it comes back

62 notes · View notes

hello-im-not-a-possum · 3 years

Note

" Leave! Me! Alone! " (for the prompt thing :3)

*Fully dusts off BATIM Monster AU due to it being the spooky month* You know, I don't think I've pinned down what type of monster Thomas was when I started this...

And I recently realized that I have a strong lack of vampires in this AU.

The GENT Mechanic wasn't a full-on monster hater. He had no interest in joining any monster-hunting group that sniffed him out, he often rolled his eyes at small-town preachers who looked down at them, and he mostly minded his own business when it came to the tricky relationship between humans and monsters.

But he also wasn't anywhere as enthusiastic about the studio as Joey and Allison were. He was a sensible man, he knew that monsters were dangerous and that it was stupid not to only trust them at an arm's length.

He could admit that he admired that his client could go as far as to start an entire animation empire just to ensure that his friend (and many others he had met along the way) would be in a place where they weren't seen as outcasts and wouldn't stop doing what they loved because of their circumstances, but he couldn't help but feel... wary of the majority of the studio's strange inhabitants.

Nobody would blame the human mechanic for avoiding the music department as often as he could, knowing the Music Director and how he viewed humans, it would be like blaming a mouse for avoiding a lion's den.

At the same time, he would get funny looks from others as he never went near the studio without a silver cross, an iron ring, a small bag of mixed herbs that was dubbed 'monster bane' due to it being a mix of various monster-repelling plants, and a bag of salt. Because of this, Thomas was not a popular person in the mostly-monster populated studio, but that didn't matter to him.

This wasn't his circus, it wasn't his monkeys, and once his contract ended, he'd probably never go there again. At least, that's what he would tell himself until the day wearing his cross started to burn himself.

--------

"It's a good thing that Allison found you in this state and threw your... wards away imminently." Dr. Hackenbush sighed as he continued to apply the numbing paste to his still twitching patient's neck. "Due to the secrecy surrounding vampire covens, their reluctance to talk about their various races' weaknesses as they're a monster hunter's favorite prey, and the many different types of vampires in the world, it's actually hard to determine what can and can't kill a recently turned vamp. Especially when one can't remember the circumstances of their change."

Tom was partly focusing on what the doctor was telling him, partly freaking himself out by trying and failing to remember how and why he had turned, and mostly keeping an eye out on the entrance to the infirmary as if he expected something to fly in and finish him off.

"Vampires in general might be notoriously hard to keep down for the count, but the process of the metamorphosis from human to vampire is extremely exhausting on the newly made fledgling." The doctor stated as he moved on to put more of the paste on Tom's other injured areas. "While this wouldn't be lethal to an older vamp, it's still extremely painful to them and considered to be torture among many of their races. In your current state and judging based off of the traits I've seen so far... ...I strongly suspect that the cross would've eventually burnt your head clean off your neck if you had not been found in time."

Thomas absentmindedly put his hand where his cross would normally be and gritted his teeth.

Nobody visited him yet, nobody aside from Allison even approached the door before the doctor shooed her out. He wasn't in the state to receive visitors yet, but he could already feel the parade of smug monsters gawking at him. He could already hear them laughing at the loss of his humanity, he could already picture several of them sticking their noses up at his misery declaring 'serves you right!' at him.

"...Could you open your mouth for me Mr. Conner?"

"Huh?" The mechanic snapped out of his day-nightmare and acknowledged the doctor's request. "Oh yeah, sure."

"Thank goodness, it seems that you've been brought in just at the cusp of changing..." While Tom didn't close his mouth on the doctor, he did look at him funny when he began to paint a different paste in his mouth, specifically, on his gums and teeth. The stuff made his mouth feel strongly like static in a matter of seconds. "Comment all you want, but you'd be thanking me if you knew exactly how much of a bitch it would hurt if you had to go through this without the strongest painkillers mankind could make."

"Well I ned mure af ha stuff if I turn inta a baht manstah?"

The mechanic half sarcastically asked through an extremely numb mouth as soon as the doctor was done putting the paste in there.

"No, unlike a werewolf who will transform based on the position of the moon, a vampire's ability to turn into a bat is normally rooted in the said vampire's willpower and or their mental and emotional state. It will not hurt unless you will it to. But turning into a bat and back again will use up a lot of energy and burn a ton of calories, so I don't recommend it as of right now. For similar reasons, I also wouldn't recommend swimming twenty miles and running a marathon back to back either."

The doctor did a once-over on his patient's treated injuries and checked his vitals before giving him his normal clothes back.

"Alright, it seems that everything's up to order..." The doctor proceeded to write down a list that he handed to Thomas. "Don't eat anything until after you can fully feel your mouth again, otherwise you might accidentally cut out your own tongue. If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to either come to me about it or ask around the studio for either werewolf packs or vampire covens. The latter's rarer than the former but werewolves and vampires have been known to get along well due to the pair often engaging in a symbiotic relationship."

"I thawt tat Wahwoles an vamhires hated each other..?"

He was internally grateful that the staticky feeling of his mouth was subsiding just enough for him to be able to talk normally again.

"That's a common misconception that came from World War II I'm afraid; American soldiers who happen to be vampires hate Nazis who happen to be werewolves and vice versa."

Thomas frowned as he stopped to read the list, it was basically a bunch of common vampire dos and don'ts, mostly don'ts; avoid sunlight, religious symbols and texts, mirrors in public areas, etc. He ran his tongue against his top and bottom canine teeth and while his tongue still felt off from the medicine, he could tell that those teeth were longer and sharper.

He knew that with each passing second, he was becoming more and more like one of the studio's many monsters that he was wary of, and he felt gutted because of it.

"...Thanks for everything, doc. I... I'll go ask Joey for some time off to adjust to all of... this."

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

Instead of going to Joey, Tom had spent the rest of the day trying to carry on with his daily tasks and work as usual, fixing up the pipes, checking on the Ink machine, mostly just trying to bury the knowledge of his vampirism in work.

Thankfully he was unbothered by the studio's workers, so it mostly worked out fine for him. Until he got to his least favorite part of the studio to work in: The music department.

Part of him was tempted to just make Wally do this, but as a werewolf, Wally would sense that he wasn't wearing silver or wolf's bane anymore and would be curious as to why he wasn't wearing any. He didn't want to lie to him but he also didn't want the Janitor to find out about his ...condition, he wasn't ready for that yet. In fact, he didn't want anyone in the studio's wolf pack to find out about this. He had goosebumps on the outside and inside just thinking about how they'd react.

He knew that they wouldn't be smug about it like how he assumed other monsters would, even worse than that. They'd know that he didn't have a coven as he was only recently turned, so they'd probably welcome him into the pack with open arms, especially if he was one of those vampires that was able to turn into a wolf too. They'd freely and willingly accept them as one of their own, a monster.

He tried to shake those thoughts away and continue to work on pipes that had been bitten into by the godforsaken raven monster. He cursed about Sammy under his breath as he fixed them as usual. He could feel the music director's presence as he did so, but unlike how this normally went, he didn't sense any hostility or hunger coming from the looming shadow of the beast in human's clothing.

Thomas had his back turned away from the normally wrathful monster, he wasn't seeing what the man's expression was. He didn't know if the damned bird was proud of his lost humanity, looking at him like he was now worthy of being an underling of his, or if the musician simply pitied him for god knows why.

But the mere presence of the beast alone was driving him crazy.

"Leave! Me! ALONE!" The vampire mechanic spun around and half-shouted half-hissed at the confused looking music director. "I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU'RE THINKING ABOUT ME, BUT I DON'T NEED YOU TO LOOM OVER MY WORK AND RUB IN WITH YOUR PRESENCE THAT I'M A FUCKING UNDEAD, BLOOD-SUCKING, FANGED FREAK!"

Thomas wasn't sure which reaction he was excepting from the beast, but he felt a mixture of goosebumps and anger as the director stepped forward and looked at him with intrigue.

"...Do you mean a vampire?"

"Yes, of course I do." The mechanic rolled his eyes as he fought back the urge to fight the raven. "What gave it away?"

Sammy smiled at him, not in that hungry 'I want to eat you but know that I can't' kind of smile, but also not a smug 'haha! you're a monster too now!' way. Before today, Thomas wasn't sure that Sammy was physically capable of smiling like that and it both creeped him out and made him angrier about this situation.

"Nothing, you simply told me that yourself."

"...Then why were you starring at me like that?"

The Bird monster shrugged.

"I was just wondering why your presence didn't seem to harm anyone anymore." He stated as he turned to leave Tom to do his work. "I guess I know why now."

#bendy and the ink machine #thomas connor #dr. hackenbush #sammy lawrence #fanfic #batim monster au

9 notes · View notes

petri808 · 3 years

Text

Bakudeku canon divergent, vampire quirk AU

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24

When Bakugou finally woke up in the Ena City Hospital, his head was splitting worse than a punch from Kirishima in full quirk, and ears rang with the force of all 108 New Year’s bell tolls. If he’d had no memory of the night before, Bakugou swore he’d just survived the worst hangover in history. Even his eyes hurt from the bright, piercing fluorescent lights and they weren’t even open! He turned his head to the side, noticing how much effort it took just to shift in such a small manner. It was as if his body was drained of... “Ugh, that bastard,” he groaned. ‘Fucker bit me.’ And as if to add insult to injury, a pin-prick pain in his neck revealed itself in that revelation.

His arm flopped up, hand straining with jerky strokes, reaching to touch the fresh bite wound located at the junction of his neck and shoulder. He flinched at the tender, bruising pain that sent a shock down his spine. Son-of— This just in! Pro Hero Dynamite cast in one of those cliché vampire movies that went straight to video. Definitely not the career start he’d envisioned.

“Oh, good you’re finally awake Mr. Bakugou.”

“Who the fuck are you?” he spat at the male voice. “And can someone turn the fucking lights off?!”

“I am Doctor Ishihira, and my apologies,” the doctor flicked off the overhead light. “Is that better?”

“Yeah,” he grumped.

“Mr. Bakugou, you were found yesterday morning and brought in suffering from hypovolemic shock due to severe blood loss and dehydration. We’ve treated you with 3 liters of IV fluids and blood plasma to bring your numbers back up, however you’ll still be groggy until your body replenishes the nutrients you were stripped of.”

Over a day had passed! At hearing he’d been out cold for so long, Bakugou immediately clenched his fists, swearing up and down about being released until they threatened to sedate him for longer. Longer?! He begrudgingly relented and settled down, but damn it! That meant Midoriya had another head start on him again! And now that the man knew he was on his trail, finding him would be a lot more difficult!

“What the hell is hypo-whatever shock?” Bakugou questioned.

“When you were found, you were in and out of consciousness and rambling incoherently, all signs of severe blood loss. The fatigue you’re still feeling is also due to the effects of it. Luckily the amount of loss wasn’t enough to start shutting down your organs.”

The doctor continued explaining a few more details regardless of the tantrum like a robot. Minor injuries he’d been treated for. The obvious puncture wounds in his neck, questioning Bakugou about any description he could provide of his attacker. He wasn’t about to tell this doctor or any authority figure who the true culprit was, so he feigned a temporary retrograde amnesia. Based on a raised brow, peering over his glass’s expression, the doctor didn’t look very convinced. Oh well, Bakugou really didn’t care about the man’s opinion.

“Mr. Bakugou, we also called you parents…”

“You what?!” Bakugou tried to jump off the bed, but his body absolutely refused to respond and ended up flopping like a dying fish. Ugh! He really was worse off than he’d thought.

“I’m sorry, but you are a minor, so we were obligated to do so. However, they did give us permission to treat and release you on your own recognizance once we felt you were better.”

Well, that was good news. ‘Sounds like mom actually listened to my letter.’ Or the authorities surely would have shown up by now. “Ugh! So, how much longer am I stuck here?”

“If you continue to recover well, tomorrow morning.”

Fuck! Now a three-day head start! Just great, he groaned. Midoriya could get far away with that kind of a jump start. “Fine, whatever! Now go the fuck away.”

The doctor left the room after explaining how nurses will be monitoring his progress, but to also let them know if anything started to feel worse. They needed to know if he developed any lasting effects from organ damage. Once he was alone again, Bakugou rolled gingerly onto his side as his mind processed the new information. Whatever Midoriya had been hit with must be the cause of this weird blood thirst that resembled a goddamn vampire plot line. Perhaps the significance of the blood coloring in his eyes was a sign of that thirst taking hold? That’ll be a handy tell, too bad it seemed to appear within seconds of the next step.

But if Midoriya had just fed on a victim, and history showed at times, a span of days before the next incident, what had caused his friend to attack him so fast? Was this thirst like a hunger? And what happens when you exercise or exert yourself? You use up energy. ‘Duh, Katsuki.’ Fighting and expending all that energy must have triggered the attack. ‘Wow, it burns fast.’ That meant Midoriya probably struggled to control this thirst, and that’s why he was pleading for him to leave him alone. But sorry, he couldn’t do that. ‘Fucker shouldn’t have run!’ One way or another he is getting his friend back home where he belonged. In fact, this only made his drive to find Midoriya stronger because he felt like he was partially to blame for the predicament his friend was in. The guy had to be scared, freaked out, and lonely. Bakugou’s heart clenched at the thought. He knew his friend was a social person by nature who loved being around friends and family. To be stuck out here all by himself and too frightened because of whatever this new quirk was had to be horrible… and utterly not fair. Of course, he did have a tendency to isolate himself when he feared…

Bakugou groaned. “Kami, not again with this shit!” When was Midoriya gonna learn to stop running away!

As his eyes relented to the fatigue and his mind slipped back into unconsciousness, Bakugou could only pray he’ll get a lead as soon as he got out of this hospital. This strange new quirk, if that’s really what it was, posed a serious danger not only to Midoriya, but the public. The reputation of pro hero’s had taken a major hit already because of AFO and the league, so if the public found out about a blood drinking hero attacking people… ‘I gotta get you out of here…’

After his encounter with Bakugou, Midoriya had rushed out of town as quickly as possible. Tears poured down his cheeks as he took off into the sky from having given in to the lust of this uncontrollable quirk. But he couldn’t stop it even if he’d wanted to. He’d learned the hard way right at the beginning that once it took hold of his mind, the only thing he could do was give-in or succumb to an even worse ravenous state that literally hurt. The pain of holding out on the hunger made him feel like a starved predatory animal that tore at his insides until he relented. In this state, the blood of any creature that came too close became a meal. But it was never enough. Animal blood didn’t satiate him in the same way that human blood did. Plus, he worried that if he let it get completely out of control, he might just end up killing someone. So far, he’d been lucky to leave them all unconscious but alive.

It was obvious that the light AFO had hit him with contained this strange quirk. How ironic, to take down a villain, only to be turned into one. That’s how Midoriya felt. How else could he feel? A hero wouldn’t hurt other people, so by taking the blood of others for sustenance, that made him a villain. Therefore, he couldn’t be a hero anymore. It must have been AFO’s plan all along once he’d realized he was losing. The villains end goal was to ruin hero society and this was definitely one way to do it. Take out his primary rival. The man poised to carry on a torch of safety and security, and snuff out any who chose to do harm… The whole situation with Bakugou really turned this into a nightmare out of body experience. To see his friend’s eyes suddenly show fear, then fade away the more he drank… his mouth clamped to the man’s neck… it was a horrible imagine that was sure to haunt him. He could still smell the burnt cinnamon from such a close encounter. If only he had clothes to change into or even a pond to bathe in, because that lingering scent was gonna drive him mad!

Midoriya curled up and clenched his eyes shut tight in an abandoned and overgrown castle he’d found outside of Ena. It didn’t look like it’s been maintained for a very long time, so the likelihood of a human showing up seemed low. He knew he should have travelled farther away, but he was too tired, too upset and just wanted to quit. All the years of growing up quirkless, to gain OFA and become the very thing he’d dreamt of, only for those dreams to be dashed again. It was as if life just didn’t want him to be a real hero. Maybe he should just put himself out of his misery, and yet— he couldn’t do it. To die out here alone where no one knew where he was or what had become of him, that wasn’t fair to his family and friends…

They must be so worried about him right now. His poor mother didn’t deserve any of this. Would his friends look down on him now? And All Might, his idol, who’d taken him under his wing, was he disappointed? And that just left Bakugou. He’d said the truth in answering the man’s question. No, Midoriya never would have expected him to come looking. Katsuki Bakugou giving a damn about him? Yeah, right. Bakugou wasn’t doing this because he cared. There was always a selfish reason behind his madness. Fear. Anger. Jealousy. Shouldn’t big bad Dynamight be thrilled that his biggest rival was gone?

Okay that was a big, fat white lie he’d been telling himself for the last two years. He knew Bakugou had moved past those pettier behaviors, but it was simply easier to believe and keep their relationship as rivals than to hope his childhood friend would ever see him as something else. And yet… ‘Kacchan was genuinely surprised by my answer. Did he really come looking for me because he cared that much?’ Yet in what way? Why was the man trying so hard? Did he… ‘miss me?’

Midoriya shook his head violently of those thoughts. No, no, he didn’t want to believe that because it would make this situation even more unbearable than it already was! He’d already given up everything he’d ever loved. His hopes and dreams, a future and losing an affection he’d craved for years would just simply be too much.

#bakudeku #bkdk #katsudeku #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #bakudeku canon divergent au #blood quirk #vampire quirk #bakudeku au #bakudeku fan fic #bakudeku fan fiction #decchan #ktdk #ch 6 #bloody passion #petri808

14 notes · View notes

the-crows-typist · 4 years

Note

hi hi lemilia~ can I get a ficlet with sebek and and fem reader using the word "flower" if you don't mind? thank you so very much~ -☁️✨

The Possibilities are Endless

"The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all." - The Emperor, Mulan (1998)

The garden of the Ramshackle Dorm was known to be barren with no life seeping through its dry soil. The trees never bear fruit nor did the flowers ever bloom as the seasons passed. The dorm’s prefect was different from the dreary environment, she was bubbly, she was playful…She was happy. Despite her disposition, despite the fact she was not from this world, despite the fact she may never go home, the smile on her lips was as radiant as the sun’s rays in the early morning.

Something Sebek came to admire and envy.

It wasn’t long until Malleus and the prefect would meet under the moonlight one fateful night and would quickly become friends. Two quiet and misunderstood people finding solace in one another where she was not judged because she was different and he was never feared for how powerful he is. It was a trusting connection, a pact, a willing agreement to keep each other company.

Sebek first heard of this friendship not long after Malleus eluded his guards’ search and was soon found inside his room. There was a small smile on his face as he talked about her, how nice she was to him despite not knowing who he was. The first year blinked, never ever seeing the prince look so calm, so happy, so open.

He wondered if the prefect was capable of magic…But that soon changed when he saw her in the garden trying to plant in dry soil.

“The land is infertile.” He said, appearing behind her in an instant. This human. Just looking at her eyes, Sebek knew she was not capable of magic and yet, someone as protected and secretive as Malleus was quickly disarmed in her presence. “No matter how many times you plant, those flowers will not grow.” He explained, the self-appointed guard explained.

“I’ve purchased some fertilizer so it should probably help.” She explained, her eyes holding a kind gaze under the sun hat that protected her head. “The dorm looks really sad so I thought it would help to plant something colourful.” He looked at the pack seeds next to her. Petunia, stock, and sweet alyssum. Flowers that burst with color. He knew those plants would help liven the otherwise uninhabited dorm but with the dry soil, she was just scattering seeds for the passing ravens and crows to eat.

He took his pen, kneeling down next to her and giving her a look of contemplation. “Before you can even think of planting these flowers,” a hand went up to her hat covered head then pushing it down her face making her squirm. “You must make sure your soil is fertile. No matter how many seeds you scatter, nor the times you try to water it, nothing will happen.”

His pen glowed, the tip touching the soil and letting its energy flow within the barren ground.

Sebek did not know why he was helping someone like her, they did meet up until the night Malleus decided to walk around alone but he knew of the things she had done for the school, for the people around her. She was one of the three first year students that broke the magic chandelier but at the same time she was the one who risked her life to save the people she considered friends, despite it being obvious that they thought the opposite, from overblotting and burning themselves dry of their magic, their life force.

Each battle, each injury, each blot of ink that stained the otherwise pristine crystal of a magical pen, she was able to stand against it...All with a bright smile on her face. She was a strong individual, Sebek affirmed to himself.

Something he’d only ever hope to be.

His magic flowed through the ground like tree roots, enriching the soil with his energy then disappeared when his pen was pulled away. “That should do it. I’ll let you do the rest from he—“

“That! That was a revitalizing spell, right?” She asked, her eyes shining in curiosity and excitement. Sebek found it endearing almost immediately. “Professor Crewel demonstrated it to us during alchemy class.” He gave her hand for her to take and lifted her up, her hat now adjusted to hang by the string around her neck. “It’s another version of it. I only gave energy to the soil so your flowers can grow and bloom.”

“Thank you so much! The garden will look beautiful thanks to you.” She smiled at him, her palm feeling warmer in his hand. She was precious.

“Sebek Zigvolt, Diasomnia, I’m a first year just like you.” They shook hands, her own were warm against his gloved ones. It was a nice feeling.

“Sebek.” She blinked a few times, holding his hand in her own. “It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

His visits to the garden were frequent from then on with each greeting consisting of him coming from behind and tipping her hat over her face to tease her. “The garden is looking good.” He commented, seeing sweet alyssum growing nicely on the steps to the dorm. The petunia sprouts growing along the allotted sections of the garden that overlooked the walkway to school and there were even clumps of grass that began growing in patches.

“Yup, the spell you put on the garden did wonders.” Water was sprayed along the budding flowers. “I can’t wait to see it in bloom. I even thought to get other seeds so the garden would look nice during the summer!”

“Oh? What were you planning on getting?”

“Sunflowers! Oh, and maybe even some magnolia. The color would go great with what I have now, don’t you think?” Sebek nodded his head and pointed over to the side far side of the garden. “You can line the sunflowers by the perimeter to create a natural barrier.”

“And the magnolias can go by the dorm’s pathway! No wait, I have pots near the door. I can place it there!”

“Can magnolias handle pots?”

“Only one way to find out.”

It was concluded that Magnolia cannot handle pots a months into its growth. Sebek and she watched as the Magnolia tree was carted off to Pomefiore since their garden could handle such a big tree.

“We should look into smaller plants next time.” The prefect commented to which Sebek nodded his head.

“We should.”

With each visit, Sebek began to learn more and more about her, how her world was so different from his, what her own family was like, what they were doing the last she saw them...Sebek’s heart twisted seeing the sad expression on her face.

“I hope they’re doing alright.” She said, snipping some petunia of their leaves. “I miss them.”

He placed a hand over hers. “They are. And I’m very sure that you’ll get to see them soon.”

She smiled at him, but this smile lacked the vibrant shine he was so used to seeing.

The garden continued to grow with every meeting until the once dreary dorm transformed into a haven of reds and oranges, of yellows and greens, of blues and violets. It was a beautiful sight to behold for Sebek and his partner, his confidant...his...someone whom he cared for very much.

The winter holidays were fast approaching and Sebek decided to spend his last day with the prefect in the garden that both of them worked hard on. The two exchanged parting gifts with one another with Sebek receiving a pack of chocolate covered sunflower seeds and the prefect receiving a lovely scarf that was decorated with sunflower patterns,

“Oh, thank you so much. It’s beautiful!” She twirled around it, the cloth swaying with her movements. “It’s so warm too.” She pressed the cloth to her face and giggled as she felt the softness of the fabric. Sebek sat there for a moment and readied his magical pen.

“I have one more gift to give you.” He turned around, back facing her.

His pen shined brightly against the dim light of the winter sky. The same spell he used that would give life to the otherwise barren land that was once Ramshackle’s garden. The green energy travelled through the ground and breathed life to the freezing flowers. “I don’t want your work to be put to waste because of a few inches of snow.”

“I won’t be able to help you during the breaks so this should lighten your work load while I’m go—”

A sniffle and a sob, the prefect’s eyes were suddenly full of tears. Her form shivering and Sebek catching her as she went over to hug him close. “Thank you...” She sobbed into his shoulder; her shaking shoulders were calmed by his hands. “Thank you for being with me.”

“Thank you for being there, Sebek.”

As he held her crying body in his arms, he remembered all the trials she had to endure, the battles, the confrontations, the overblots. One way or another, she had to face them alone. There were moments he wondered just how much she had to cover herself to be able to smile the way she did.

She was the strongest person he knew, but even the strongest person had a breaking point.

“I’m sorry. I must look like a mess right now.” She sniffled again, wiping her hands over her tear stained face.

To his side, he leaned down to pick a single flower from the stem.

Stock.

The flower slipped into her ear, his hand cupping her cheek to wipe away one last tear that fell out of her eye. “The winter holidays won’t be long. When I get back, I’ll come to you. I promise.” Their foreheads pressed together as the winter wind blew through, the scarf wrapped snugly around her neck, and the flowers dancing around their feet.

#requests #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek zigvolt #twst sebek #sebek ficlets

145 notes · View notes

wing-ed-thing · 3 years

Text

Cabaret (Might Guy x Reader, Chapter III)

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIIIChapter IX Chapter X Chapter XI

Guy woke you from dreamless sleep in the middle of the night. He laid a gentle hand on your shoulder. It was time for your watch. You bolted up at the touch, propping yourself on your left palm. The kunai from under your pseudo-pillow felt heavy in your grip against his neck. Guy had kept the fire kindled, but just barely. The dim glow outlined his face as he lingered kneeling over you. You relaxed, recognizing him after a few blinks. He looked exhausted, but gazed upon you with concerned eyes. He recoiled his touch softly. You put your kunai down. Wordlessly, Guy settled into his makeshift cot.

You stretched, sitting up against a large fallen branch. The heat from the little flares warmed your cheeks. You threw a small piece of wood on the embers, watching as the tiny flames licked the offering. The light burned just bright enough to see your surroundings, but not enough to give you away to any that may be lurking in the woods. You breathed deeply and closed your eyes to focus. No other chakra signatures anywhere around.

Guy tapped out quickly, curled up in his blanket to your left. He gave out a light snore. He must’ve been a lot more tired than he let on to you before. Raven black strands slipped from his forehead, falling across his eyes. You glanced around. You were alone. Gingerly, you reached over and tucked the stray strands back, but quickly recoiled as a small shock pinched your nerves. You shifted back against the log.

Much like the night before, you found yourself thumbing through the case file once more. Bits of light fluttered on the page. You ran a finger over your new name, new identity. The name of the club where you were to become the equivalent of a cabaret girl, a hostess. The file felt thin and light in your hand. The Leaf did not know if the plot by the Sound existed, let alone it’s details. You rolled the edge of the paper in your fingers. The layout of the city printed on the page wrinkled at the border. You have long since memorized the image. You tossed the pages into the fire. You wouldn’t be needing it anymore.

At the rate you and Guy were going at, you’d arrive later today. You took a few items out of your pack and began work on your face. As tedious and expensive as it was to do missions like this, it was the only way for an undercover mission. Any ninja could use a transformation jutsu, but any team with a half-skilled sensory ninja could sense a small, yet continuous, flow of it from a mile away if they really tried. You ran a brush down your cheekbone, the tinted light posed a challenge, but not one you hadn’t overcome before. You tried not to grin as you thought about what new products you could buy with your reimbursement ryō. While you got the process down to a science, it still took focus.

In time, you witnessed dawn impose itself on the world. Little by little, you observed the orchestra of the forest. As the sun began to rise, you could hear birds, see them fly overhead as they began their day. Small rodents rustled in the treetops. For a while, the forest took on a teal blue tint, but the hue changed as the sun rose. Beams of sunlight trickled through the trees. The saturation became green and gold. The fresh, crisp air pleasantly shocked your lungs. The daylight shown on your sleeping partner’s relaxed features.

You shifted and shadow once again enveloped his figure.

Guy began to stir by the time you were finished. As you were packing your equipment back up, his eyes suddenly shot open. He sat up in his make-shift cot.

“Alright,” he stated, stretching his arms over his head, “Breaktime’s over.”

He turned to you. He arched his eyebrows and assumed a semi-defensive posture. Guy’s brows sewed together in confusion. You rolled your eyes, sighing.

“It’s me, genius.”

“Riiiight, right.” Guy took in your new features. He had heard about your abilities, but hadn’t had a chance to see them up close. He tilted his head. If Guy hadn’t known you, you could have easily been a different person. He mentally bisected you. Closing one eye and squinting the other, he raised his hand to block his vision to your face. Same clothes. Same body language. Same figure. Guy moved his hand. Different hair. Different facial structure. How did you pull that off?

“Are you going to stop staring?” You questioned, not looking at Guy, “It’s unprofessional and if you’re up then we should really head out.”

Guy nodded, gathering both of your things together. You dispersed all evidence of the camp and dismantled the protective jutsus. Not long after, the two of you once again vanished into the trees, not a trace left behind.

There were about 15 more hours to go. This, of course, did not include the extra time it would take as you crossed the border to the Country of Rice. Naturally, “civilians” like yourselves don’t have chakra control so for a portion of the trip you will be walking in case you were unlucky enough to get stopped by Sound patrol. Every few minutes, you scanned ahead for any chakra signatures. You were getting lucky today. Unlike the day before, you found little trouble as you traveled with Guy.

You shot through the trees. In the distance you could see the Valley of the End. The two statues stood tall at the end of your sights. You were almost to the border. The closer you got, the clearer you could hear the falls. They tumbled down into the canyon carved by battle. You had heard about it, but you never got a chance to actually see it. Breathtaking. You stopped to take it in.

“Why’d you stop?” Guy asked, coming to perch on the same branch as you. You took a moment to catch your breath, hands on your knees.

“I’ve just never seen it before,” You confessed, motioning to the landmark. You took a deep breath, standing back up straight. “This is the line into the Land of Sound. We should probably start walking soon.”

“We can take a break, you know. We’ve been making good time.” Guy offered. He had rarely seen you interested in anything. If you wanted to take in the valley, he would happily indulge you. You stretched your limbs.

“What, are you slacking off now?” you asked haughtily. “You don’t want to be the first one to the Sound?” You regretted saying that as soon as it left your lips. It definitely wasn’t a challenge. You were just being sassy, giving him a hard time, but Guy perked up.

“Are you talking about… a race?” Guy’s eyes were wide in excitement, a dumb grin enveloping his features. You huffed, hands on your hips.

“No, I don’t want to race-” But he left before you could finish. Not one to be outdone by Might Guy of all people, you started after him. You called out from behind, “You’re ridiculous!” Guy let out a hardy laugh in front of you.

“You only say that because you’re losing!” You sped up into the tops of the trees, running across the tops. Guy took a brief look behind him, not seeing you. But before he had time to fully look back in front, you slammed down a few feet in front of him. In an instant, you pushed on a smaller branch with your foot, bending it down before launching yourself forward. It swung forward, uppercutting Guy. He grunted as you advanced smugly. “Very interesting! Very creative!”

You moved forward, flipping and maneuvering among the tree limbs. But you couldn’t keep your lead for long. Neck and neck, Guy took a straightforward route. You closed in rapidly on the border to the two lands. You both swiftly passed by Hashirama’s head. In your peripheral area, you caught a glimpse of his opponent, Madara. You passed by their silent stare off, landing in the Land of Sound.

Guy had his arms crossed, his chest puffed. You blew a strand of hair from your face.

“Okay, you ‘won’. Doesn’t mean you have to gloat.”

Guy’s smile grew wider. You turned away with a scoff, beginning to walk down the outskirts of the forest. You found a beaten path. This was likely the route that civilians typically took. Guy followed as you sauntered away, trying not to betray how sore you were about your defeat.

Despite expending energy on your “challenge”, Guy hovered energetically around you. Out of your peripheral you saw his animaled hand motions. Your mind filled in the wide eyes and raised brows which he without a doubt wore. You strolled on and Guy chatted on. You didn’t know someone could talk for so long. You didn’t particularly care to register what he said. Perhaps, being tuned out was your mistake. You focused on the path ahead, searching for chakra signatures every once in a while. What you were not focused on, was the hand that came to clamp down on your shoulder. The fingers that brushed against your skin. It should have been a friendly touch, a playful gesture to most, but as soon as Guy’s skin met yours, the same electric current that you felt that morning coursed through your body.

It happened in an instant. The sensation faintly rose within you, looming, running behind the scenes of your sensory system. You felt it at your core, something that could only be described as purely Might Guy. His will stood out sharply and his energy zapped throughout every fiber of your being. The feeling deposited itself in your bones, picking up something to exchange. You felt it: the mix of emotions, the anger, the annoyance, and something else. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on began to leave your system. You had never felt this feeling before. Your heart began to pound in your chest.

You shoved him away.

“Don’t touch me!” You shrieked. You stumbled a few steps back, wrapping your arms around yourself. Your eyes widened from your rapid heart rate. Guy had stopped in his tracks, slightly shaken, holding his hands defensively and low. You looked into his eyes, panicked. Softly, you warned him, “Don’t touch my skin.”

Guy’s eyes were on you, betraying worry. You felt that your heart had skipped a beat. You found yourself holding your breath. Your chest moved as you slowly exhaled. Guy waited for your word, standing stone-faced and silent. You flushed slightly, ashamed at your outburst. The corners of Guy’s lips turned upward as he gave you a reassuring nod. You relaxed, but Guy did not.

He glanced over your shoulder, unmoving. You turned only to be met with a pair of Sound Ninja. How could you not sense them before?

“Is there a problem here?” the first patrol asked.

“Not at all, sir!” Guy answered with his usual Might Guy charisma.

“No, problem!” You laughed, “There was just a spider! Came straight down on my head! Sorry to inconvenience you two, so embarrassing!” The two patrols weren’t interested.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” the second dismissed. He glanced at you over, eyes lingering in a downward position as he smirked. He shifted closer to you. Guy tensed. The first patrol came around you, to sandwich you and Guy between the two of them. “What’s your business in the Country of Rice?”

“Work,” Guy responded.

“Do you have work visas?” the patrol closest to you questioned, leaning down, his face now in close proximity to yours.

“Yes.” You took the opportunity to take a step back as you reached into the side of your pack. You produced two small booklets. The second patrol’s hands came over yours and took them from your hands. You felt a small shock, but nothing near as electrifying as when Guy touched you. Instead, it was the slimy feeling of a weak will. A feeling you were familiar with and confident you could conquer. You looked into the eyes of the Sound ninja. His hand lingered a bit longer at your stare. A small burst of chakra. “We are simple travelers and nothing more.”

The ninja’s eyes glossed over. You removed your hand from his. Handing one to his partner. You focused on the dazed ninja as he idly flipped through the little booklet.

“Aoki Genki-” You second glanced at Guy and then to you- “and Takeuchi Yume… tell me, have you seen any Leaf ninja wandering these parts?”

“We haven’t seen much of anyone wandering these parts.” Guy’s statement wasn’t false. “Why? Is something the matter?”

“Another patrol squad got roughed up at the border not too long ago. By what we can only assume from the fallout, it was a group of Leaf ninja.” The first patrol answered, following his partner’s lead.

You inwardly rolled your eyes. You got confirmation that the squad that ambushed you were ninja working on behalf of the sounds, but they were most definitely not at the border.

“How terrifying!” you feigned.

“Let someone know if you see anything,” The two ninja handed your visas back to you. You tucked them back away. “We wish you safety in your travels.”

“We will,” you assured them, smiling graciously, “Thank you for your service.”

The Sound patrol disappeared. The second ninja was still glossy-eyed.

You and Guy spent the rest of the walk in silence.

Finals have been crazy. I’m trying to do these once a week but the next might be delayed a bit. I’m trying to not edit these too much. I want to do this for fun but I can’t help but stress myself out when it comes to series and if people like them. I’ll keep doing these for fun!

#might guy #might guy x reader #shy!readerxmightguy #might guy relationship #Maito Gai #maito gai x reader #maito guy #Maito guy relationship #cabaret #naruto #naruto x reader #naruto x y/n #naruto x you #naruto headcanon #naruto headcanons #naruto imagines #naruto imagine

54 notes · View notes

urbanseeress · 3 years

Text

𝙷𝙴𝙻: 𝙽𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝙶𝚘𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑.

WHO IS HEL?

Hel (or Hela) is the daughter of Loki, the trickster god and the Jötunn Angrboda and sister to the monstrous wolf Fenrir and the Midgard serpent, Jormunganr. Appearance-wise, she is “half living”; where half her body is described as being heart-achingly beautiful, and “half dead”, where the other half of her body is described as the pale flesh of death and the rotting flesh that comes after.

Odin, the All-Father and ruler of Asgard, sent Hel to the realm of Helheim where she was to rule over the souls of those who had died a “dishonourable death” - this refers to the death of those who did not die in battle but have died of natural causes, sickness, old age etc. This gives her titles such as Goddess of Death, Goddess of the Underworld etc. (NOTE: Those who die in battle do not directly go to Óðinn. Freyja gets the first pick of warriors and those she chooses go to Fólkvangr, only then does Óðinn get to choose his warriors for the Valho̧ll from those who remain).

ASSOCIATIONS:

SOLAR SYSTEM: Pluto

ZODIAC: Scorpio

MOON PHASE: Dark Moon, New Moon

CELEBRATIONS: Samhain, Yule

COLOUR: Black

NUMBER: 9

RUNE: Hagalaz

HERB: Mugwort, Wormwood, Cedar, Rue, Mullein and Plantain

INCENSE: Myrrh, Storax, Jasmine, Sage

TREES: Ash, Beech, Elder, Elm, Holly, Juniper, Willow and Yew

CRYSTALS: Black Tourmaline, Black Obsidian, Black Onyx, Apache Tear, Black Moonstone

ANIMAL: Wolf

ISSUES, INTENTIONS AND POWERS: The Afterlife, Battle/War, Darkness, Death, The Otherworld/Underworld, Shadow Work, Necromancy

HONOURING HEL:

The various ways I honour Hel:

I built Hel an altar that consisted of a statue of Hel, black candles, black crystals (See above in “Associations”) and a black altar cloth.

Make offerings to Hel – she tends to like coffee and dark chocolate, but I also burn incense on the altar for her. I also light a plain black candle dedicated to Hel.

Hel’s Incense – See above in “Associations”.

I meditate on the Hagalaz rune.

I say prayers in her name to my loved ones that have passed away.

I leave offerings for my loved ones who have passed away, this is mostly a candle, incense, a small dish of their favourite food.

Clearing up the graves of the dead whenever I walk pass and see rubbish left around it or fix any flowers or wreathes that might have fallen over.

Doing anything creative for her is something that she loves. I made a gemstone bracelet to represent her so that I can wear it everywhere I go and connect with her even more. The bracelet is made of Black Onyx beads, Skull beads and the Halagaz rune bead; all these things are associated with Hel.

CONNECTING TO HEL:

How I connect to Hel is by taking a walk through a cemetery where I can really contemplate on Death and connect with the energies of the dead around me. I also do meditations in the cemetery to tap into the death current. Whatever I hear, feel, smell and think of during my walk (or during my cemetery meditations) I always write down in my journal.

Sometimes I call upon her with a simple invocation before asking her directly for guidance. I use Tarot Cards to communicate with her following an invocation or sometimes I just meditate on the spot and wait for any images or sounds to appear in my mind’s eye that could potentially be a message from her.

I play dark, tragic and brooding instrumental music out loud, which helps me relax and contemplate on a lot of things. I also listen to a lot of Viking-inspired music to help me connect to her. I also read a lot of gothic literature, which inspires feelings of grief and longing as a healthy way to let all those feelings out, Edgar Allen Poe’s poetry is one of my personal favourites to read out loud for Hel and I to enjoy together.

MY MEDITATION – ENCOUNTERING HEL:

The first time Hel appeared to me was when I was simply daydreaming, I heard faint whispers of “Hela… Hela… Hela…” in my mind. Before this happened, my mind was completely blank and this was at nighttime as I laid in bed. I thought that this was very random, but nevertheless, I understood these words and felt inclined to close my eyes and meditate in case there was a message for me.

Hel was very unfamiliar to me and to be fair, I am still getting to know her to this day. Deities are very complex with their many different layers, personas, and energies. In general, if I ever feel like a deity is reaching out to me, I focus on the energies I feel from them and meditate on it. Doing so helps me get a “feel” of them, their energies, their intentions, their story. I tend not to look them up because I always want to feel their raw, unfamiliar energies personally and not let their mythology affect the way I sense or view them. I then take note of it in a journal and then proceed to read about them afterwards to see if my interpretation of the deity matches that written in the literature. I always believed in trusting my intuition.

In this meditation, I found myself being transported into what looked like the inside of a cave, however, part of me felt like this was no ordinary cave because it was not completely dark and obscure like caves would usually be without a torch to light the way. This cave in my vision had a pale light blue light seeping through from somewhere. I also noted there were white/pale blue crystals around me among the rocks that made up the cave’s walls.

In the cave, a child approached me. She had long silvery-white hair and pale white skin and icy blue eyes. I also noticed she was wearing a grey torn-up viking dress that was up to her ankles and that was also covered in dirt (perhaps she had been in this cave for a while trying to find her way out of it). She did not seem like she was afraid or lost, in fact, she was quite the opposite. She saw me, playfully touched my hand, smiled and giggled and happily ran away.

Not long after, a woman appeared in the direction the little girl ran off to. She had long raven black hair and was wearing a long, black dress. Her appearance reminded me of a crow.

She just stood there and stared at me, studying me. We stared at each other without saying a word to one another for a while. Later, the little girl I saw later reappeared and joined the woman. Were they mother and child? I had no idea, but they most certainly knew one another and seemed very close. They held hands and suddenly, a flash of light appeared above them and then they disappeared…

Standing in the spot they were standing was another woman with her back turned towards me and partly covered in the shadow of the cave although part of her was also under the pale blue light of it. She slowly turned around to face me. As she turned, I saw from the light that she was indeed very beautiful. Youthful, glowing and with an air of mystery around her but I could not help but feel a sense of brooding and grief in the air too. I could not tell if she was smiling or not for she also looked as if she was pained and in sincere regret. When she finally turned to face me completely, that was when I realised half of her face was disfigured.

It was not just her face, the other half of her body that now revealed itself from the shadows as she stepped forward, half of her body was either rotten or in the process of rotting away. I admit that this image frightened me, and I felt my heart beating and I also felt myself going into fight or flight mode. However, I could not move and stayed rooted on the spot, just staring at her. I could not scream but I know my jaw hit the floor at this point, to be in shock is a complete understatement.

This was Her, this was Hel and I was in Helheim. I probably should not have come here.

I stood there as she limped over to me, she was limping because she was trying to drag her “dead half” with her. The dead half of her was completely limp. I noticed the half of her that is “alive” is also had toned arms and legs and has somewhat of a four-pack, possibly from dragging that “dead weight” for so long. She took my hands in hers; one of her hands was pale but felt very warm, I even felt a pulse from it, a sign of life. The other hand, rotten, decayed, skeletal but still covered in strips of tissue felt cold and dry, and majority was bone, it made me flinch. I also noted the smell of rotting flesh and perfume (I assume is what her live half was wearing at the time) as she stood in front of me.

I finally had the courage to look up at her, into her eyes. One eye was a beautiful sapphire blue, while the other eye was blind, white and lifeless and barely hanging on in its socket as there was no eye lid to support it. I tried to ignore all that and she smiled at me. Her lip curled into a small smile, whereas the skeletal half of her face already looked like she was smiling since all I could see were her exposed teeth. The image of Hel then faded, and I slowly came to, back to the mundane world.

I am still in the process of interpreting this message but I believe the main thing that Hel tried to convey to me was DUALITY. Half beautiful, half rotten and decay. Half alive, half dead. Woman and child. Black and White. Shadow and Light.

HEL IN MY LIFE:

Whenever I think of, work with and connect to Hel, I have always felt a sense of brooding and grief, darkness and mystery, there are also times when I feel fear. She is most certainly a compassionate deity when she wants to be, but most of the time, she is detached, cold, stoic and does not really take sides. She also does not mind what you do in your craft or in your life. She basically gives off the impression of, “You do YOU as long as you do not impede on others.”

She prefers to not interfere with anything and would rather watch you. I always feel like she has her eyes on me, watching every move and decision I make, wondering what will happen next. She sometimes expresses curiosity and fascination with me; I interpret this as even though she is a Death goddess, she still likes to be involved in the lives of her children where she can watch them live in the way they want until they pass away from this world and she welcomes them into her realm with open arms.

I never really got over the fear I feel sometimes when I connect with her, but then again, I believe that was her intention. The whole point is to feel uncomfortable and never get used to this feeling. I remember sincerely apologising to Hel later for reacting so negatively towards her, but she told me that she took no offense and that it is a good thing that I reacted in the way that I did towards her.

She wants to constantly remind me of how I feel whenever I encounter a shadow of mine. This fear is a projection onto her. It is almost as if she is a mirror image of all the “bad” and “evil” things of myself that scare me, make me uncomfortable and make me want to run away from. Since she constantly pulls out the shadows from within me to make me feel extremely uncomfortable and makes me face them, I ended up doing Shadow Work with her as my guide. She always asks me, “Are you truly afraid of me or of the things I remind you of when you look at me?”

She is aware that half of her body is Death itself, but it never bothers her. Even though she literally must drag the other half of her body along with her wherever she goes (literally the dead weight of herself), she acts like she had gotten used to it over time and does not let it stop her from doing what needs to be done. The fact that physically, she gained muscle from dragging her dead half around for so long indicates that she gained strength from her ordeal.

I see Hel and see that this dead side of herself is like her very own personal shadow, except that, she is at peace with it and living in harmony with this side of her. She is an example of someone who had integrated their shadow into their life and has reached the point where she no longer needs “Shadow Work”. Only a deity is capable of this because to me, Shadow Work lasts a lifetime. As you grow older, the more Shadows form.

I admire her so much and this is why she is my role model. I strive to become like Hel and so I have dedicated my entire life to Shadow Work with her. I believe that I too can live in harmony and be at peace with the parts of me that I tried to cast away. I want to unapologetically bare my real self and feel nothing but pride. I want to uncensor my own ugliness.

Hel also eased my fear of death and completely changed my perspective on it. I view death as an end to something and the beginning of something new. I view death as a transition. Death also leads to rebirth. It is very hard and painful to let go of things sometimes, but it is necessary in order for you to move forward with your life. You come out of that situation stronger.

I used to be so afraid of the idea of dying and leaving behind all my loved ones. I also struggled with the death of loved ones, losing my Father was the one that hurt me the most. When he left, I felt a part of me die with him. I remember it took a very long time to heal and move on with my life. I was trapped in never-ending grief and was consumed with so many negative emotions like guilt, pain, rage.

What I felt is indescribable, but I remember telling my therapist that “Losing Dad felt like there was a hole in me that can never be filled by anything or anyone and I had to learn how to live with a part of me gone, but at the same time I somehow still felt severely depressed. It is not normal, it did not feel normal, nor did it feel right. I felt so numb and so empty yet despite that a part of me had died along with him, I was still able to feel negative emotions that reminded me that I was still alive.” Thinking back to that moment, it feels like Hel was with me all along, but I never realised until much later, she was there especially during those times where I felt, “half dead and half alive”.

Nowadays, I have accepted and even embraced death. Hel made sure that I was ready for when that time comes. To live your best life, you must also embrace death. As for the death of my Father, I had finally come to terms with it and vowed to live the best life that I can. I also realised that he is not truly gone because as long as I remember the memories of him, he will live on inside of me.

#norsemythology #norsepaganism #heathenry #shadowwork #witchcraft #death

20 notes · View notes