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hearts4renaa · 11 months

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OH MY, LOVE IS A LIE!

summary: it's all over now, but he's still thinking of you. featuring alhaitham, diluc, kamisato ayato, and zhongli. part 2 to you're losing me.

w/c: 2.1k in total a/n: i am really churning out angst for yall. inspired by hits different by taylor swift

I find the artifacts, cried over a hat. Curse the space that I needed.

“There’s no way you still have that.” Kaveh comments as he walks past Alhaitham in their little library of the home. Kaveh looks at the small crystal in the scholar's hands, cringing.

Alhaitham glares at the blonde. “Shut it.” He grumbles, twirling the gem in between his fingers. He intended to give it to you over dinner, as an apology for the stunt he pulled two weeks ago. The guilt took over his body like a fever. He was sleepless for a few nights, and you slept in the guest bedroom. Eventually, he drew to a conclusion. The two of you had been dating for quite a while; maybe it’s time to take it to the next step.

He invited you to a proper dinner that night, and you accepted despite the growing tension between the two of you. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t realize the two of you had very different plans for that night. He was there to take it further. You were there to end it.

Kaveh’s scoff takes Alhaitham out of the depths of his memory. “Don’t you have better things to do than nag me?” Alhaitham spit out. “Pay your rent, perhaps?”

Kaveh rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. “It’s crazy how you’re talking to me how you talked to them.” A glare made its way into his amber eyes. “Thought you would’ve learned to watch your choice of words after what happened.”

Alhaitham had no rebuttal. He knew Kaveh was right. He didn’t think his words or actions carried much weight until you were crushed under them. His words and actions chipped away at what he loved until eventually, nothing was there at all. How did he not notice? How did he not see the storms in your eyes? How did he not hear the tiredness in your voice? How could he let you fight for the relationship alone, while he stood on the sidelines as it withered to nothingness? His eyes redirect from Kaveh to the gem in his hands. It’s like he can still see your face in the reflection. Like the love was still there, shimmering and sparkling the same way the gem did in the afternoon sun.

“And yes, I do have better things to do.” Kaveh says, walking towards the entrance of the house. “I’m heading to lunch with a friend of mine.” A knock pierces their conversation, effectively saving Alhaitham from having to face the harsh truth from Kaveh of all people. “Ah, they’re here!” Kaveh leaves the library entirely, leaving Alhaitham in the room alone. He hears the front door open. “Y/N!” Kaveh greets. Alhaitham freezes.

What the fuck?

“Just one second, I forgot something in the study.” He hears Kaveh say, and footsteps are fast approaching. Kaveh retrieves his left behind item, but not before Alhaitham stops him. The grip he has on Kaveh’s forearm is almost painful.

“What the hell?” Alhaitham’s voice is bitter. Jealous, even.

Kaveh yanks his arm away. “Just because you lost the love of your life Y/N doesn’t mean I have to lose my friend Y/N.” Kaveh’s voice is firm. Soon enough, he’s walking away and out the door.

Alhaitham feels the sorrow truly kick in. All the times he asked for space from you. All the time he could’ve spent with you. Now, the space between the two of you was farther than ever before. And he can’t do anything but look at the gem in his hand, wishing he could run to you more than ever.

I trace the evidence, make it make some sense, why the wound is still bleeding?

He won’t admit it, but Diluc’s hands were beginning to ache from the endless action of polishing the glasses. He insisted on working the bar tonight, letting the usual bar staff have some well deserved rest. Peering down, Diluc takes the time to examine the many scars on his hands. They were dotted on his skin, and they all held a story. A burn. A scab he kept picking at. An accidental cut. Either way, they all had an experience leading up to each wound.

He realizes how much of a hypocrite he is. Scolding you for wanting the adventure, for getting a minor injury as if he doesn’t do ten times more fighting than you did. Worried endlessly for your safety, as if he doesn’t risk his life on the daily. Diluc has faced many wounds over his life, but the worst one he’s experienced was losing you.

The breakup wasn’t dramatic. The two of you sat across from each other next to the fire, and you told him of how you lost the love. Of how the flame burned so slowly than it burned out. The two of you agreed to end things together; at least, that’s what you think. He didn’t lose anything. His flame still burns as brightly as it did in the beginning. Perhaps his flame burned so bright that it overtook yours. You packed your things and left Dawn Winery. He saw you off with a polite wave, but the moment the door shut, the dam burst and the tears flowed.

Now here he was, without you, repeating a stupid polishing action until the door opened. There you were, with the Traveler and Venti of all people. It’s awkward for a moment, both of your eyes darting around to avoid the other’s. Eventually, the three of you get a table to sit at. As your group passes by, he hears the Traveler quietly say something to you. “Sorry, Y/N. I didn’t think he’d be working today.” He hears you laugh. Oh, how he wishes he was the source.

“Don’t worry about it,” You say. “I’m basically over him.”

Diluc feels a sting in his chest, and he has to stop himself from dropping the glass in his hand. That hurt. He certainly wasn’t over you. The night passes, and you are engaged in conversation. Diluc takes the chance to steal fleeting glances in your direction.

The weapon on your back has more wear and tear. Your bag looks heavier, more used. He sees minor scars on your skin. A few on your arm, one on your cheek, some on your calves. It takes everything in him to not fret over you, but he knows he can’t. You’re not his to lose anymore. But most of all, Diluc sees the way you exude light. Cheer radiates from you, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you more beautiful than you were right now.

You may bear more scars than when you were with him, but he’s never seen you happier.

You were the one that I loved! Don’t need another metaphor, it’s simple enough.

Ayato runs a hand through his hair while walking the streets of Inazuma City. He was on the way to a wedding attire fitting, for his wedding to another Inazuman noblewoman. The wedding isn’t for another month, so it’s crucial to ensure that all clothing is prepared and ready to allow ample time for unforeseen circumstances. On the way to his appointment, Ayato passes by a familiar restaurant. He softly smiles, remembering how he used to visit often. Then, his smile is replaced with a frown when he realizes he hasn’t been in two months. There was no reason for him to eat there anymore- he used to eat there with you.

He’ll never forget how puffy your eyes were when you broke things off with him. It was obvious you were crying, and with how the conversation was going, Ayato was about to cry too. “I can’t do this anymore, Ayato.” Your voice sounded exhausted. Ayato hated knowing he was the reason for your sleepless nights. He didn’t understand why he snapped at your skepticism over the arranged marriage. He couldn't, and wouldn’t ever imagine you marrying someone else. He understood. The problem is, he understood too late. Now, it’s been two months and he still doesn’t go a single day without thinking of you.

Finally, Ayato arrived at his destination. The tailors was a quaint little shop in a less busy corner of Inazuma, but many of the locals purchased ceremonial clothing from the owners. They’re said to have a very keen eye, even when it comes to choosing employees. Ayato slides the door open, and he is greeted by a worker.

“Welcome! Are you here for a fitting or-”

He could recognize that voice. There’s no way. His eyes widened at the realization, and you did too, seeing how your words trailed off.

“Y/N.” He breathed out your name as if he had been suffocating prior. You take a second to compose yourself before putting your professional facade back on. He is a customer. He is no more than that.

“Are you here for an appointment?” You ask.

Your formal tone throws him off. He remembers your cheery usual tone from back then, and he wishes nothing more than to go back to those times.

“Yeah.” He nods. “It’s…wedding attire.”

You feel your breath hitch in your throat. Of course, he’s still going forward with the marriage. After all, he made it clear that you have nothing to offer for the Kamisatos.You nod curtly before gesturing him to a fitting station. “Please allow me to grab my tools.” You give a small bow, ignoring eye contact. You turn away to head towards the shop’s tool drawer with measuring tapes and such. When you’re certain he cannot see your face, you allow your bottom lip to tremble slightly.

Meanwhile, Ayato’s eyes stay trained on your figure. For the two of you to break up, then have you be the person attending to him during the wedding fitting? The Seven must be laughing at him as he experiences this cruel twist of fate. Suddenly, it hits him. The two of you are part of each other’s past. It’s over. You aren’t in each other’s present lives, and you most likely won’t be part of each other’s futures.

You might be a stranger now, but he will forever recognize your voice in a sea of people.

A wrinkle in time, like the crease by your eyes. This is why they shouldn’t kill off the main guy.

“Who do you think the lucky one is?” The women of Liyue gossip. Their eyes are fixed on Zhongli, following him like a hawk. The man in question is shopping for flowers. However, he seems to be interested in the large bouquets of flowers, the ones far too large to be classified as “just felt like it” flowers. He takes his time to examine each flower thoroughly. He checks the stems, petals, if they’re fully bloomed. Uncommon than most men nowadays, Zhongli was truly looking at every factor while shopping for these flowers, which is why the women were so interested to know who they were for.

On Zhongli’s end, his senses were being absolutely bombarded with the signature floral scent. Zhongli’s taste in flowers only gets incredibly picky around this time of year. After all, the anniversary of your death is upcoming. He only wants the best flowers for you, since he couldn’t give you the best when you were still alive. If there’s one memory he’ll never forget, it’ll be how you still told him that you loved him, even in your final moments.

“Excuse me, are you looking for anything in particular?” A worker asks him.

Normally, he’d politely decline and continue about his day. But he can’t. Not when said worker looks identical to you. His eyes are wide, scanning the person up and down. Same hair, eyes, facial structure. If he didn’t know better, he’d think you were right in front of him. Unfortunately, Zhongli does know better. He knows that you are no longer alive. And he knows that he is the reason for your death.

He regains his composure. “I’m alright, thank you.” His smile is polite, but not sincere.

"Ah, alright. I’m sorry if this sounds weird but…” The worker started. “Are you doing alright? I’m sorry, I just felt like I had to ask you. Gut feeling, I guess.”

For a second time, Zhongli was taken aback, but he answered nonetheless. “Yes, just trying to find some nice flowers.” The worker smiled. It amazes Zhongli how much they look like you.

“Are you buying flowers for someone?” They ask.

“Yes,” Zhongli pauses. “They’re for someone who is very dear to me.”

The worker points to a bouquet. “How about this one, then? It’s one of my favorites.”

Zhongli smiles. They were your favorite too. He lets out a chuckle at the situation. He had always hoped to see you again, but he didn’t think you’d visit him like this. “That one looks great.” He responds.

He looks up at the sky, and he hopes you know that in every other universe, he would’ve chosen you.

#genshin x reader #zhongli x reader #diluc x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #ayato x reader #genshin angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin #morax x reader

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humanlyimprobable · 2 years

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Ok ik theres a lot of drama happening rn, and this isnt about any of the Current Drama but is it bad that I get stress dreams and nightmares about internet drama and bad shit happening to CCs I'm a fan of

#like #i need to be clear that I have a life I go out and do shit regularly and all that but like #idk #theres just been so much #whether its tragic news about CCs I like or internet drama about oh 'whos a fuckwad now' or whatever #im tired #and yes I have been paying attention to the drama today #both ah and rt fandom wise and the latest dream scandal #i lived through 2016 tumblr so i dont particularly care about the dream scandal shit and I dont want to talk about it besides reminding #folks that its ok to be skeptical or critical of evidence presented and it is in fact a good thing to question it #listen to victims and potential victims yes but also be critical because you can still be lied to #thats all i care to say #but the rt stuff hits hard #ive been an rt fan literally all my life #i dropped off in 2021 when i discovered the dsmp and got into twitch and all that #but i still cared about rt as a company and have made many friends over shared interests in their content #particularly rwby and ah #which have been incredibly influential for me in my life #it was a massive dream of mine to work there someday for a long time #to hear about what Kdin went through #that hit hard #i had always heard stories about minority treatment with rt and was concerned but under the imppression they were trying to be better #but hearing it all laid out like that #it fucking sucks #people can say oh rt has been going under for a long time now and whatever sure #but this was a huge part of my life #even after my dreams of working there faded I still considered it a bucketlist item to at least collab with the ah crew or be a guest #i wont lie and say that I wouldnt still jump at the chance to be a guest with them someday #but just #yea. idk. im sad

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verinarin · 4 months

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Romcon Fluff | Ratio accidentally drinks your Love Serum ?!? | Tried to make this into a oneshot but I think it needs 2 more chapters, wdyt shall I continue?

Ruan Mei You accidentally made Veritas fell in love with you and he dislikes this festering feeling you have brought to him

support me on ko-fi ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

Ruan Mei is one of your closest friends, yet you rarely meet her since most of the time she’s off somewhere pursuing her lifelong pursuit of divinity, yet she never missed gifting you presents for your birthday.

You smile as you carefully untie the silk ribbon on your present, you can’t help but guess whatever is inside is a bottle of perfume because you could already inhale the sweet scent before even opening the intricate wooden box

Once you lift the lid it reveals a beautifully carved glass vial filled with a lavender-coloured liquid, you carefully examine the shimmering liquid in awe, it smells so sweet like a cherry blossom cake, you notice a light blue envelope inside the box

You carefully place the vial back to read open the envelope, there’s a beautifully written letter addressed to you, her sincerest friend

“Dearest friend of mine, Happy belated birthday. Now I have prepared this gift of mine long before your birthday but since I’m currently in the middle of nowhere I have deduced that It’ll reach your doorstep approximately 2 days late and for that, I apologise,” you smile as you read her letter, ah she’s still the same

Upon reading the 3-page long heartfelt letter Ruan Mei reveals that she has been making this rejuvenating serum for you since earlier this year, she said she used your DNA and modified it so for your birthday she gave you an enchantment serum of some sort

She said to pour it into a hot beverage and not too much since it’s a highly concentrated serum, so you decided to brew a cup of tea while you text her thank you. Okay so a little bit goes a long way, you slowly pour the serum into the tea when all of a sudden the bell into your apartment rings, it shakes you and accidentally makes you pour a lot more than you intended to

You quickly flip the vial and close its lid, you silently curse as you put the vial back and rush towards the door, you open the door with a pout on your face, now when you see the person behind it makes you more annoyed than before, Veritas Ratio in the flesh

“Why haven’t you been answering my texts and even my calls ?, your lack of response is going to cost us both substantial damage,” ah yes your assigned partner for the annual Intelligentsia Guild research showcase, where you and the narcissistic prick in front of you are assigned together by the committee

“Damage ?, I was just enjoying my birthday. Our research is not going to somehow dissipate into thin air if I enjoy some time for myself,” you groan, you want to slam your door into that handsome prick’s face, but you can’t because he’ll sue you

He scoffs while looking down on you, without any hesitation he slides into your apartment, at this point you want to just pounce over him, but thankfully you’re in a good mood because your tea is waiting for you-

That entitled motherfucker—

When you turn your body you see him blissfully sipping on your tea, like he’s entitled to it, “Hmm this tea is exquisite, the colour is stunning too where did you get this from ?” he asks as he swirls the cup, your cup

“Veritas Ratio that was my birthday present ?!!” you yell as you storm towards him, you try to pry his hands away from your tea but sadly he’s way taller than you, “Well then I need you to tell the person that gifted you this tea to tell me where they acquire such complex tea blend,”

You’re fuming, you swear that there’s smoke coming off your head like some sort of chimney, he notices this and weirdly he thinks you’re cute, he can’t believe that his heart just skipped a beat when you pout at him, what an unusual feeling

“Stop pouting, you’re making my heart palpitate faster than usual,” Veritas groans which surprised you, what the hell was he saying ?

“What the hell are you implying ?!” you scan his face, somehow this man who is well known to be rude and disrespectful is blushing profusely, what the hell happened here ?!

“You !, can you stop looking that beautiful basking underneath the sunlight it bothers me, I hate it,” he can’t believe he just said that out loud, what the hell is happening with him

“H-huh ?!?, what the fuck is wrong with you Veritas, I rather have you yell at me for fucking up some calculations than whatever this is,” you shriek feeling slightly disgusted and oddly flattered ?!?

“Well do you think I have the slightest idea what made my mind suddenly throw out my rationale out of the window and replace it with you instead ?!,” okay this is starting to freak you out because this feels too real, way too real is this a dream, please be a dream

You start to lightly slap your face to snap yourself out of this horrific nightmare, “This is no dream, I suggest you start to be responsible over this,” he leans forward and reaches out to your hand, he presses it towards his beating heart, he’s serious about how fast it was palpitating-

“W-what do you mean responsible ?!?, for what h-huh ?,” you try to pull your hand away but to no avail, it’s like he glued it down on his firm chest

“For these festering feelings that I don’t enjoy having nor experiencing, it must’ve been the tea I drank because before this I was quite normal when it comes to staring at that captivating face of yours. No, I mean that horrid face of yours that someone enchanted when illuminated by the sun,” Oh nous, it can’t be that tea can it ?

Oh !, Ruan Mei what the hell did you gift ?. Veritas could see your face reduce to a state of emotionless, “Don’t ignore me fool !,” he mutters as he now guides your hand to rest his head against your palm

“S-stop acting weird,” you stutter on your words, your confidence has been drained and now you’re left with red-tinted cheeks, how frustrating

“Can’t help it, I just want you to notice my presence,” he mumbles against your palm, slightly kissing it while talking, Oh my nous, Ruan Mei needs to fix whatever this is or at this rate, he can’t perform his task as your research partner

“Okay okay I need to somehow make an antidote for you,” you take a deep breath trying to think of something, but how can you when he’s there watching you with those puppy eyes

“Please do because, to be frank, I’m extremely uncomfortable with the way I just want to kiss that pink lips of—“ before he can continue you slap his mouth shut with your palm

“Shut up !!, don’t utter any more nonsense, just get out of here and don’t come back until I find a way to fix whatever this is,” you quickly push him towards the door, he’s adamant about staying by making things harder for you

“Can’t I just wait here and assist you? I might miss you if you kick me out, I mean no of course I wouldn’t miss your brilliant mind what am I saying of course I’ll miss you,” this man needs to be stopped, you can’t handle the contradictions that he’s spewing

“What do I need to do for you to get out !,” you huff as you wipe away your sweat, this man weighs like those sculptures he makes

“A kiss on the lips should suffice,” he smirks, why did he smirk?!?, never mind that you can’t deal with this nonsense anymore, you quickly drag him by the collar and press your lips together within a second you pull away from the kiss leaving him happily dumbfounded, you took this chance to hurriedly push him out the door and lock it

What the hell just happened ?!?

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #dr ratio #dr ratio x reader

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refiwrites · 10 months

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Happy Father’s Day

Pairing: ID! Leon S. Kennedy x Fem! Reader

Warning/s: 18+ SMUT MDNI, p in v, unprotected sex, BREEDING, rough sex, creampie, mating press, praising, cockwarming, lmk if i missed anything

Note: It’s father’s day and Leon is the only daddy I know 🤪 sorry this is probably unhinged I just had to write this out rq sorry if its short- and i just HAD TO USE THIS GIF BECAUSE DADDY– also my breeding kink going brrrrr

GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

You and Leon were once again entangled on the bed. His muscles tensed under your every touch, breathing becoming uneven and the grunts falling from his lips and yours- along with the hot sloppy kisses you shared.

“Are you really this needy?” He jokes, a little breathless as he sat up on his knees while you were all splayed out in front of him, the sight making him want to bury his throbbing cock inside of you already.

Your heart was hammering in your chest as you stared him as he knelt before you, light sweat drenching both of your bodies but the glow of the afternoon sun hitting him–

It made him look like a fucking god.

But you had something else in store.

The moment Leon’s cock finally sinks in your drenched cunt, both of you moan out in pleasure as Leon supported himself to hover above you, your legs simply locking around his waist as he fucks you in missionary.

“So needy… squeezing me so tight already..” He chuckled, those blue eyes of his never leaving your face as he studied you with every slow thrust he gave.

You bit your lip and laugh with a slight heat to your cheeks.

“I just missed you..” You whisper against him as he moved his hips at a gentle pace. It was killing you. You wanted him to hold you down and fuck you till next week but no– this time you’d take your time, especially with what you had in store.

Leon probably didn’t have a clue what day it is, nor did he even care to as he was buried deep in you, but you knew.

Father’s Day.

Of course the two of you had talked about kids before but with your busy jobs, especially his, it was hard to find time to actually try for one. The two of you had been married for about three years now, settled into your new home and whatnot.

But you’ve seen the way Leon would watch as you two simply walked down the street and he’d spot some parents in the park- or anywhere really- playing with their children, picking them up, witnessing them with the brightest look on their faces.

While Leon looked like he longed for something like that, now with you on the picture. He wanted to have a family, with none other than you. His wife. But his job was a pain in the ass.

You wrap your arms around Leon’s neck, grazing your lip against his skin as you left hot open mouthed kisses, making him groan and put his chest flush against you as his movements slowly began to increase, making you moan out his name, hands tugging on his hair as your eyes rolled back.

The feel of him throbbing and dragging in and out of your soaked walls only made you want it more. Your hands now snaked over his back, pushing his hips down further against you.

Leon felt you clench around him and he chuckled lowly. “God- you- fuck..” He couldn’t even finish his sentence because your cunt was pulling his cock in so deep.

“Shit..” He breathed out as he stared at you with a light furrow to his brows before his eyes closed shut momentarily. “I’m not gonna last long with you doing that- ah..”

That was the plan.

You moaned as his pace finally increased as he sat upright back on his knees, holding your legs apart as he snapped his hips against yours making your body jolt and his hand instantly reaching for your tits, cupping it with his hand and squeezing.

“So fucking beautiful.” He uttured underneath his breath as he went back to grab at your hips to steady himself as he pounds into you. Him lifting your hips up, making him hit a new angle that had you seeing stars and grasping at the sheets.

“Leon- oh fuck yes just like that.” You whine.

The way you were reacting to him as he fucks you never gets old. It was like the first time all over again and he grunted in response, working harder and pressing you against the mattress. His finger slipped in between your legs to rub against your clit.

“O-oh fuck..” You whine out, arching your back as Leon worked for both of your orgasm.

You almost get sidetracked as you could feel him already twitching inside you.

“I’m close sweetheart, need you to cum for me, yeah? I just need to feel you cum for me..” He whispered, leaning back down to lazily kiss you, tongues meeting sloppily as you moaned against the kiss.

You were close, he was too.

Your mind was already buzzing, eager to experience that high but you still had to act. “L-Leon- Leon..” You call out for him in between pants as you held onto his strong arms.

“Y-yeah sweetheart? Fuck I’m so close..” You hear him say but your next words stunned him.

“C-cum inside me..”

Leon’s hips stuttered as he stared at you wide, pupils dilated as he gripped a little too tight on your thighs. “H-huh what..?”

“P-please Leon..” You begged. “F-fill me up.. w-wanna have kids with you..” You were starting to get lost in the pleasure as you rambled on about having kids with him and you wanting him to stuff you full of his cum.

Leon’s brain buzzed and it felt like a switch had been turned on that had his nerves setting aflame as he let out almost a growl.

“Fuck, sweetheart..” He was still holding back from folding you and fucking you until you were dripping of him as he tried to gather himself. “Y-you want this? You want me to cum inside you? Fuck a baby into you? Holy- fuck- shit..” His mind was racing.

You couldn’t respond further but you tried as you nodded desperately. “Yes- Yes Leon!”

“Fuck- thank you sweetheart- gonna cum inside you-“ Leon couldn’t believe it- the tiredness was washed out of his body, replaced by the need to shoot his load in you, his eyes glued to your belly, his mind already engaged in scenarios of your baby bump growing and he lets out a loud grunt of exertion.

His newfound energy being put to good use as he suddenly lifted your legs up, folding you, his arms grasping at the back of your knees as he held you in place as you continued to clench around him.

“Thank you baby- fuck I’ve wanted this for so long..” he managed to groan out as he fucks even deeper inside you. “I’m gonna make you a fucking mommy- you’re gonna be so good…”

All you could do was moan out your replies as he talked to you that way, the coil in your stomach bound to snap. “Leon- I’m so close- p-please..”

“Hold on, sweetheart… wanna do it together..” he breathily says as he leaned down and captured your lips, you kissing back without thought.

“A-alright come on- let go for me sweetheart- fuck! I’m- ah fuck cumming!” He moaned in your ear as his whole body stilled, his thighs shaking a little as he finally came inside you, the feeling making him dizzy a little.

When it did, you cried out in pleasure as your body spasms against his. “Yes- oh yes..” You chant out along with his name as you held him close, rolling your eyes back as he twitched inside you, spilling the last of his hot ropes in your walls.

It took a while as Leon grunted in your ear, breathing out and leaving a kiss on your neck as he shuddered at the sudden sensitivity of his cock.

“That- thank you sweetheart..” He whispers, chuckling as he carefully tried to pull away but you shook your head and held him in place as you bought your legs down.

“O-oh? You want me to stay inside you..?” Leon asked, you really never failed to take his breath away.

With your mind clouded with pleasure, you nod and he shakes his head with a smile, brushing stray hairs away from your face as he was careful to lay beside you whilst keeping himself sheathed inside you as he lets you hike your leg around him. Both of you catching your breath and Leon still couldn’t believe what happened.

“Did you really mean that..?” He asks once his breathing calmed down as he looked at you intently. You blinked up at him and nod, leaning in and kissing his jaw as you snuggled against him, the feeling of being so full of him making you sigh in content. “Yes, I did..”

Leon broke out into a wide grin, sending a kiss to your forehead as he pulled you closer. It seemed like every worry slipped away from him in that moment at the thought of finally getting to have this with you. “You’re amazing..” was all he managed to say as he let his lips linger against your head.

Tiredness was seeping into you as your eyelids droop close, not without you saying one last thing to Leon.

“Happy father’s day, honey.”

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angelltheninth · 11 months

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begging you for ak!jason x hero reader hate sex pls imagining it is not enough i need to read it and inject it into my brain 😁

Pairing: AK!Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, table sex, secret relationship, hate sex, banter, enemies who fuck, age-gap, pussy slapping, clit stimulation, size difference, name-calling, degradation, size kink, condom use, body betrayal, Reader is Batman's new ally

Word count: 0.7k

A/N: I wanted this to be short but I got carried away, evil Jason was just too hot.

Jason smirked at you, his armor leaving indents on your thighs as they were spread out for him. "Wipe that smirk of you face already, its disturbing." You push your hand against him, of which he bites the fingers off one by one as the table under you shakes from the force of his deep, hard thrusts. "Fuck! Are you trying to break the table?"

"No, just you." He pushes closer, his hands on your hips, encouraging you to roll your hips with him. You try not to, you try not to give him the satisfaction of it, but can't resist him, "What would Bruce say if he knew his new friend was spreading her legs for me? Bet he'd be really angry with you. Yeah, I'm thinking... a little spanking for the naughty girl."

"Bruce wouldn't- ah, fuck, oh!" You grabbed onto the edge of the table, your cowl fully slipping, your face revealed, eyes widening. "D-Don't look at me you motherfucker, this is just-" He slapped your pussy again before pressing his fingers against your clit.

Your hips rose from the table to meet his thrusts, the echoing sounds filling the storage house. The weapons you used lay aside, the condom wrapper glistening in the dim light. At least he remembered that not wanting a repeat of you denying him like last time.

Last time. "We should stop doing this Jason. It' wrong." You were a hero, and him... something much darker, not a villain not yet but he was so close to that title.

"Yeah its real fucked up how easy you are. Letting me fuck you, coming all the time, screaming my name. But you have been distracting me more then usual. Maybe you should let every villain in this city fuck you, see if you can set them on the correct path. Then again, I am a very possessive man, I would kill any guy who wants this sweet hole. Its mine." Jason took your hands in one of his and pinned them down, "Keep them there, don't you dare move."

For some reason you listened. It was so shameful to obey him but had Jason's big, hard cock pumping in and out, making your body react.

"She obeys!" Jason boasted laugning.

"Fuck you." You still had the strength to flip him the bird.

"Aw that's adorable, is that the finger you use when you think of me?" You did. More then one finger because one wasn't nearly enough. "Bet you love having the real thing huh? Finally a man who knows what to do with a whore cunt like yours." He curled his finger over your clit, sending your back arching. "You think he's listening right now?"

No, the comms were off, you made sure of that. "N-No. He can't be."

"Then why is your pussy trembling so much? You want him to hear? Didn't know you let cockhungry sluts in your ranks these days Bruce. Must be real desperate. Poor little thing probably didn't even know how much of a slut she was." He spoke with an almost maniacal edge to his voice, his cock twitching inside you.

"S-Stop it. Its not true." You whimpered, getting all teary eyed.

"Yes. It. Is." He accompanied every word with a slap on your pussy, each sting making your head spin until a high pitched moan left your mouth, "Hear that Bruce?! That's your partner being my little whore!"

"I- I hate you." You managed to still bite back but your body didn't agree with your actions, and honestly you weren't sure your heart did either but that was easier to ignore when you were being pounded by Jason's cock. "I hate you, I hate you, I fucking hate you!" Jason was only spurred on by your words, fucking every inch of his fat cock into you until he felt your walls tighten. Despite your best efforts not to your body reacted to his, stars dancing behind your eyes, head spinning, only able to feel his cock still working between your legs and his fingers on your clit. "St-ah-op."

"But babygirl," Jason pulled out and took the condom off, letting the cum gather on the floor, "We still have the whole box of these to go through."

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cupids-scream-queen · 5 months

Text

-> Joker x f!reader

Prompt: size kink

Warnings: dubcon, breaking and entering, voyeurism, slight stalking, knives, blood, submissive reader, size kink, no protection (wrap it for the holidays!)

Summary: You were home from work, fucking yourself with your little vibrator. Joker always had his eye on you, and he couldn't stand watching you fuck yourself with a pathetic little bullet, now could he?

You were horny.

After the holiday rush, after the many, many rude customers, you found yourself alone, exhausted, and in need of some good fucking.

Unfortunately, you also weren't the type of girl to fuck a random guy, so you were stuck at home, in your bed, with your pretty pink vibrator. It was a soft baby pink, and although it was quiet, it was one of the best ones you'd ever owned. You had it on its lowest setting, teasing you clit as you made yourself wetter. You moaned slightly as you increased it, your clit wonderfully in pleasure as you arched your back, slightly.

Unbeknownst to you, Joker was watching you out your window. He was hard in his trousers, his tongue poking out of his mouth to lick his lips as he watched as you pathetically curled around the plastic toy. It should be him, really--you were his, even if you didn't know it. He'd been watching you for a long time.

You didn't know it, of course. You were polite to a man that needed help on the street, unknowing that the man was a criminal that was one of Gotham's most wanted. Ever since, he'd been obsessed with you, needing to get closer to you at every cost. He knew everything about you, and you were none the wiser.

But watching you pleasure yourself, your pussy clenching around what should be him, made him so impossibly angry that he couldn't help it when he broke into your apartment, your moans all throughout the apartment like music to his ears.

"You ah, havin' fun there?" He asked, his arm resting against the doorframe. You looked over, your eyes wide with shock and terror as you took in the stranger in front of you. No, he wasn't a stranger--it was the Joker, clear as day, in front of you.

"Wh-What do you want?" You tried to cover yourself up, but it was no use. The damage had been done. You weren't sure how long he was there for, how much he had seen. He shamelessly stared at your body, scanning you as if he owned you.

"Well, let's see, I'd like you to stop fucking yourself with that pathetic thing," He pointed at the toy in your hand, and you looked at him like he was crazy. Well, maybe he was, but that wasn't the point.

"A-And what's it to you that I use this?" You snapped, your face red with embarrassment as he started to walk his way closer towards you. You had nothing on to protect yourself from him, and you knew he was capable of things you weren't able to fathom.

"It makes me, let's say, incredibly angry," He walked closer, his hands pressing against the mattress. You inched your feet closer to the rest of your body as you peered into his dark eyes. You couldn't find any emotion behind them, and it scared you to no end. "You should, ah, have something else inside of you, if you catch my drift."

You looked him up and down, your eyes finally settling on the bulge that was barely hidden by his purple trousers. It was bigger than anything you'd seen before, and your pussy got wetter thinking about it. You scolded yourself, trying to remind yourself that you were in a situation that was life-or-death, and that getting aroused by the Joker of all people wasn't going to help you.

"What?" You asked, innocently, as if you hadn't just heard what came out of his mouth. You weren't sure if that was the right move, his eyes glazing over and his mouth slightly ajar as he crawled farther until he was on top you, pressing you into the mattress.

"I want to fuck you," He stated, touching your face with a glove-clad hand. "And I want to make you mine."

Your mind was racing, and you could barely comprehend anything that he said. Make him yours?

"Y-You mean...?"

"Yes, yes, I want you to be my fuckdoll for tonight," Joker laughed darkly, his hands roaming your body as he pleased. You were frozen in fear, your mind telling you not to move, that if you didn't do anything he'd get bored and leave.

"W-Why?"

"I've ah, had my sights on you for a while, doll," He shifted closer to you, and you could practically smell his breath...which smelled like mint. "And let's just say that, ah, you ain't talkin' your way out of this. I want you to lay on your back and take what's gonna come to ya."

You did as you were told, laying so that your body was flush against the mattress, your naked body on full display. Joker seemed to enjoy your obedience towards him, as he pet your head mockingly with his gloved hand.

"I don't want you to talk," Joker flicked a knife out of his pocket. "Or else, ah, I might use this against ya to shut you up." As if to prove a point, he slashed at your shoulder, lightly grazing the skin with the blade. It immediately started to bleed, and your eyes pricked with pain. Your pussy was wet with arousal.

He put the knife next to your neck, and you were still as a statue, wondering what he'd do. He simply made a slight scratch, carving something into your neck. It hurt, but you didn't flinch. Afraid of what he'd do in light of defiance, you decided to do whatever he told you in order to get out of this alive. You weren't sure how patient the Joker was, and something told you that you really didn't want to find out tonight.

He then put the knife on the pillow beside you, and pressed his lips up against the wound on your neck, kissing it. His tongue lapped at the blood, and you moaned somewhere deep inside of you. You could feel his lips curl against your skin by the action, and you couldn't tell if he was upset.

He then took the toy out of your hand, turning it on to it's highest setting.

"Ya like getting fucked by this piece of shit?" He asked, shoving it into your pussy. It hurt, your pussy barely stretched out or prepped for this, and you nearly cried out in pain, your eyes beginning to drip tears onto your cheeks. Joker licked the tears up, giggling to himself as he continued to ram the toy into you, watching as you struggled to contain yourself. "You're gonna get somethin' way different tonight."

He took the toy out of you, and practically threw it against the wall, breaking it. You looked at him, your eyes wide and full of tears, only fueling him. He grabbed you by your hair, forcing you into a kiss. It was rough, teeth and tongue and teeth meeting each other. You kissed him back, your hands finding his hair and pulling him closer, moaning in his mouth. You weren't sure what was coming over you, but you suddenly needed him. You had to have him.

"Ah, ah, ah, calm yourself there, I'm in charge," He slapped you across your face. You marveled at how big his hand was compared to your face, and once you started to focus, you realized just how big he was compared to you. His hands were nearly twice the size of your own, and you realized that he had to be anywhere from one to two feet taller than you--your puny little frame nothing compared to his.

You looked at him, almost helplessly as he began to work his way around your body, poking, prodding, and slicing bits with his knife. It shouldn't have made you more horny, it shouldn't have made you more into what was happening to you...but yet, it was. You were enjoying this, and you were finding yourself anxiously awaiting what would happen next.

He started to suck at your skin, his mouth nearly fitting around half of your neck as he left a hickey and a bite mark, signifying that you were his. His little fuckdoll. His hands began groping your breasts, and you gasped as you realized his hands were just as big as your tits, if not slightly bigger. He was on top of you, his broad shoulders double yours.

"You're so fucking small and helpless," He growled into your ear, licking the tender flesh. The warmth of his breath against your ear drove you crazy, and you moaned a bit, as if asking for him to fuck you senseless. "You'll get what you deserve later. Right now, it's my turn to fuck you up."

He started by biting down your body, making sure to mark both of your collarbones with his teeth. He licked at every cut he made on your body, the sharp, metallic taste melting on his tongue. He groaned as he tasted your blood; the taste of your skin like cocaine to him.

"God, you're so perfect for me," He licked your nipple, and the bit it, eliciting a loud cry and moan from you. He grinned. Bits of his face paint were on your body, white and red stains everywhere from the grease paint. He thought of you like an art piece, his canvas, his.

He began to move his fingers down to your folds, gathering slick between his fingers. Curiously, he pulled them into his mouth, tasting all of you. He licked his lips as if finishing a good meal, and he laughed as he shoved them into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself. He then took his fingers away, and took his pants off, revealing his purple-and-black stripped boxers.

He slipped them off with ease, revealing his full length. His cock was far bigger than you grasped beforehand, and your mouth watered as you imagined it inside of you, creating a bulge inside of you. Your thoughts were halted as he shoved his fingers inside of you, three at once. His fingers were thick, and you cried out in pain, which earned you a slap across the face again.

"Ah, ah, pet," He wagged his tongue at you. "No crying." You moaned, and he nodded. "That's what I like to hear."

He began to fuck you with his fingers, spreading your pussy open for him. He was quick with the work; as soon as he figured you could take it, he took his fingers out of you, and shoved them in your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself again.

He lined himself up with your entrance, his large hands on either side of your hips as he pushed the head of his cock in your pussy, stretching you farther than his fingers. Your eyes filled with tears, a few rolling down your cheeks and falling onto the bites on your collarbone.

He pushed in farther, half of his cock in you and he placed a hand on your abdomen, feeling himself fill you up. You were so much smaller than he was, and he was crazy about it. He then suddenly pushed all the way in; your abdomen had a visible bulge.

"Look at how little ya are, pet," He growled, slapping the bulge. You gasped, moaning as you felt his hand collide with your skin. He grinned, his cock stretching and filling you more than you could even dream of. He was so much bigger than you. He was dangerous, he could break you with one wrong move. You were a porcelain fucktoy, and both of you knew it.

"I'm gonna fuck you like an animal," The Joker practically growled, thrusting into you. Your eyes glossy with tears, your stomach bulging from his cock being so endlessly big made him go mad with desire.

"Y-Yes, p-please," You gasp out, shuttering as Joker thrust into you roughly.

"Don't. Talk. Shut your mouth before I fuck it," He threatened, grabbing the knife he previously discarded and held it threateningly against the skin of your breast. It was not more than a mere threat; the blade slashing through your skin lightly, drawing enough blood to start dripping down, coating you in a dark mixture. "Ain't that a pretty sight?"

You nodded, arching to meet his thrusts, as he penetrated into every inch of your being. You only needed him—you sold your soul to the devil, and now he was getting his end of the contract. He smirked accordingly, his thrusts beginning to get longer and more drawn out, filling you completely and then leaving you empty within the same breath.

"Ah, you're so good against me, do you feel that?" He pressed your hand against your stomach, and your eyes widened. You could feel every time his cock entered your body, truly stretching and filling you to your limits. "That's all me, doll."

You whimpered in response, and he elicited a moan from you when he bucked his hips to thrust deeper into you, if that was even possible. Though you were lost in the pleasure, Joker was meticulously marking you up as his, carving his initials into you wherever he pleased--including on your neck, where everyone could see who, exactly, you belonged to. The Joker's girl.

"Fuck, yer so tight," He grunted, your pussy clenching around his dick, begging to not have him leave. You moaned around him, your body behaving in ways you never thought possible. Joker took your body in with every bit of hunger--his eyes like a predator's as he took in how vulnerable and slutty you were for him. Just for him.

"I'm close now, and you're gonna be filled with my cum," Joker forced you to look at him, a hand on your face roughly. "I want you to remember this moment, pet. As of now, you belong to nobody, except for me." You nodded your head, your brain too fucked to even care about what you'd agreed to. You needed the release, your orgasm quickly appearing as Joker continued to thrust into you. He sensed this, your pussy clenching on him harder in anticipation, and he snuck his hand away from your face to circle your clit harshly, drawing even deeper moans from you.

He pushed on your clit, the sudden pain mixed with pleasure doing it and you came on his cock, your pussy clenching around him even harder as you rode out your orgasm, his hand never leaving your clit nor his thrusts slowing down. No, he was going to fuck you until he came.

He continued to thrust, his warning mere seconds ago of being close a forgotten promise as he continued to thrust farther into your body, fucking you as much as he could before he felt himself reach his limit. He came with a string of curse words, his body rumbling on top of you as he filled you, completely, with his hot, sticky cum. You felt even more full, his dick filling you to an even fuller extent. You felt your abdomen expand again, struggling to fit all of his seed inside of you.

"What a pretty little fuckdoll you are," He mused, groaning as he slid out of you. He pushed the leaking cum back inside of you. "Don't waste a single drop of that stuff, it's potent." He warned, and when he was done pushing it back inside of you, he had you lick his fingers clean. You tasted his cum, a salty, strangely sweet mixture that sat heavy on your tongue.

"W-What now?" You asked, your voice quiet. You weren't sure if you were allowed to speak yet--but you were well spent and Joker was clearly in a better mood than when he found you.

"Now, doll, you stay there and I leave," He got off of you, leaving you whimpering as you missed the heat from him. He got back into his clothing, and grabbed grease paint out of his jacket. "Ya got a bathroom?"

"Right there," You pointed to a doorway, and he went inside. Coming out, he had a fresh layer of grease paint on, and nobody could tell what had transpired between the two of you. At least, just by looking at him.

He laughed at you one last time, taking a polaroid of you for later. He blew you a kiss before storming out of your apartment, leaving you naked, cold, and alone in your bedroom.

Shaking, you gathered yourself up after a few minutes, and made your way to your bathroom. You could feel the seed spilling out of you, drenching your thigh. You saw yourself in the mirror, Joker's initial on your neck, his name carved out along the lower side of your stomach. Marking him as yours, bonding you with him for the foreseeable future.

Part of you wished he'd never come back. That part of you was the sane one, the part of you that was logically and rightfully afraid of him. And, yet, a darker part of you wished he'd do that again soon, because god, he was the best fuck of your life.

Enjoy my writing? Please feel free to leave a like, comment, or reblog!

This is the first time writing for Joker, so apologies if it's not the best.

I might make a part two once Smutmas is over...

Part 2: ♡

#joker x reader #dc joker #ledger joker #ledger!joker #ledger!joker x reader #joker x y/n #slasherfucker #slasher community #slasher fanfiction #slasher fucker #slashers x reader #slasher smut #slasher headcanons #cupids smutmas advent calendar

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beiasluv · 1 year

Text

sully boys walked on you changing 😳

a/n: i am out of ideasss, lmk if you have some :) anyways, enjoy! :)

masterlist

although the na’vis are not known for their coverage in clothing pieces, they have a time for changing things up.

i swear they are putting so much trust in their piece of clothing, like neytiri’s top is holding on for its dear life.

jake (2009)

“hey, y/n um- OM MY FUCKING-“

“HEY! JAKE GET THE FUCK OUT!” you covered your bare chest and turned away from him. “GET OUT! LEARN HOW TO KNOCK FOR MY SAKE!”

“so- sorry!”

“GO!”

“y- yes! going now,” he closed the curtain slowly.

“no peaking!”

stares a moment before going out the tent. he is doing that shOOk face before collecting his senses.

definitely smirking to himself behind the curtain

jake is definitely a sweet guy and a consent king, but he can’t help himself sometimes, y’know. getting those free views is not something he’ll see everyday, might as well take advantage of it.

he tries to kill his thoughts but those pictures flash over and over he had to beat himself to it.

definitely have to bonk his head to get some senses back. he’ll be so flirty at first, but he’ll become so shy afterwards

definitely thinking about you before going to bed. he’ll be a drunk person in love, imagining your embrace during the nights.

tails wagging and everything when he daydream about you.

can’t even look at you in the eyes for a week, i guess. he was so ashamed but he can’t help himself teasing you of it 😈

the sweetest boy 100% tho. he’ll even comfort you.

“hey, y/n, i know i can be a wuss sometimes but you don’t have to be embarrassed to me. I know i’m an idiot but you have a really sweet body, don’t think i am a creep, but i think every part of you is perfect, and i mean it,” he tucked a hair behind your ear.

neteyam

his father’s son 100% a flirty boy

“y/n, i was wondering- OH HOLY- nice views”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, GET OUT!”

“okay, okay, going now, you should wear that more, or should i say i like it off,” he snickered behind the curtains.

“YOU- son of a- please, get out!”

he is so sweet about it tho. he’ll apologize afterwards 🥺

he’ll hug you whenever he can 100% and shower you with comforting words. maybe he can shower you with seductive compliments *AHEM*

“i know I’m an idiot, y/n, but you are so cute for me, and i mean it, okay?” “never let anyone sees you like that, because you are my little potato and mine.”

but neteyam being neteyam, he’ll throw out a joke afterwards like

“next time call me, I’ll help you change.” *wink* *wink*

he’ll daydream about the scene that flashed against his eyes, he wouldn’t complain about it. just basically dozed off in the middle of the day, drooling and everything, and people around him were worried asf. “tf is wrong with his dude.”

wanders to those deep dark waters that he know he shouldn’t go there. definitely cringe at himself and smack some senses back.

then he always learned how to shout before going in, which other people thinks it’s weird why he started doing it now, after all these years.

when he knows you are inside he’ll never miss a chance to tease you.

“hey, y/n! watch out for a handsome boy going in, he might see some views.”

“oh, shut up.”

lo’akkk

my boyyyy, he is flustered to the flustered

“y/n, i wanted to ask- AH- WHAT-“

“OH MY GOODNESS, please, get out!”

“I’m so sorry!”

his face is so red that people walking past the tent would ask if he is okay💀 he’ll be so flustered he couldn’t even answer them.

people got worried so they called jake to see💀

“lo’ak! what happened, did you do something?” he grabbed his son and shook him.

“no-nothing dad! let me go!” he refused to stay in his embrace.

“then tell me what happened!”

“MR.SULLY, HE SAW ME CHANGING! IT’S NOT HIS FAULT!” you quickly got out of the tent. lo’ak’s face turned even redder and his body’s temperature is rising rapidly.

the fact that, I am telling you, jake died laughing inside. he was like- “HUH” and then “HAHAHSHSHHA”

lo’ak couldn’t be more embarrassed, but he was met with your comforting words later on. you went to see him in his tent alone, choosing wisely to bring a shawl to cover your shoulder

“hey, lo’ak, are you feeling better?” you placed your hand on his shoulder. “look, i’m sorry-“

“no, please, i should be the one apologizing,” he turned to look at you, instinctively looking down first but panicked and looked up. “I’m sorry for reacting like that, your body made me think things i never imagined- BRAH EW WHAT DID I JUST SAY.”

“it’s okay,” you giggled. “glad i can help.”

“NO- I SWEAR I AM NOT A CREEP!”

“YOU ARE MY CREEPER,” a peck on his lips. muah.

today’s a great day to try something new! and take care! 🤍

@rosaryos / @bumblinbumblvee / @loudcolorwolfgarden / @nyotamalfoy / @fangirl-2610 / @astablacksword / @lokisblueskin

#avatar x reader #avatar the way of water #avatar imagine #jake sully imagine #jake sully x reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam imagine #lo’ak imagine #lo’ak x reader #fanfiction #imagines

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merakiui · 4 months

Text

simply business.

yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, slight nsfw, misogyny, power imbalance, workplace misconduct, abuse of authority, ceo azul, secretary jade note - you'll do anything for this job. mr. ashengrotto wonders if there are limits to your anything.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Mr. Ashengrotto. Thank you for making time for me today. I can’t begin to imagine how packed your schedule is,” you admit with a gentle laugh.

Just as you practiced with Trey and Riddle, you shake his hand firmly and confidently. Even if most of your poise is feigned to hide a mountain of anxieties, it manages to fool the CEO of Mostro, for he mirrors your amiable greeting with one of his own. Or maybe he sees right through your act and is choosing to remain quiet. You’re not going to think too deeply about that.

“The pleasure’s all mine. You have no idea how startled I was when your application found its way on my desk. Why, I thought I was dreaming.”

If he brings up childhood memories, talk about it. Why not? Trey advised hours earlier, serving you and Riddle individual slices of strawberry tart. Friendship is just as good a connection as the one made through sweets.

Which is very solid guidance coming from a baker.

Even so, she shouldn’t rely solely on past connections. In business, that means nothing if the connection itself isn’t stable and worthwhile enough, Riddle, ever the realist, added with a grimace. We should know. We went to school with him.

Hey, don’t sweat it. You’ll do great, Trey added when he noticed the despairing look you’d given your tart. I’ll bake you something to celebrate, so do your best, be yourself, and bring home good news.

With his and Riddle’s encouragement, you had been so certain of your abilities before, in which you proudly proclaimed you’d get the job and charm Azul in the process, but now you’re not sure. Standing here in his office, thirty-something stories in the clouds, you can’t escape the suffocating fear as it saps the oxygen from the room and renders your lungs vacant.

“I aim to surprise.”

“And surprise you have. Pleasantly, might I add.” He motions for you to sit, to which you comply and lower into the seat across from him. A mahogany desk separates you from a sparkling future. Your gaze pans from him to the man standing a few inches behind, a clipboard and pen held in both hands. Standing isn’t the right word, actually. With his height, all lithe limbs dressed darkly, he looks like a bodyguard ready to escort you to your execution should you make the wrong move. You can handle one pressed suit, but another is too much. And this one looks even more intimidating than Azul with his sharp, stoic stare. “Pay him no mind. Jade’s merely here to make note of our discussion.”

“Ah, I see. Nice to meet you, Mr. Jade.”

He nods his silent acknowledgement, two-toned eyes filling with light.

“Shall we begin?” Azul gathers a few documents, straightens them, and then dives right into the rigmarole. “I must preface this by stating our past friendship has no influence on my decision or the outcome of this interview.”

“Completely understandable,” you blurt, trigger-happy with agreement.

Don’t be a yes-man, Riddle’s words from before float through your head, stern like a parent. You’re human, not some gear meant to strengthen their corporate machine. If they can’t see that, then that’s no environment for you.

“I… Actually, it feels a little awkward talking like this,” you add with a nervous sigh. “With the stakes being so high and everything… It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, but I’m happy you’re doing well for yourself. Oh! I’m not saying that to butter you up or anything! That’s my honest opinion.”

He chuckles. “I’m also pleased to see you again. Although going forward I would like to keep this matter separate from the task at hand.”

“Right. Sorry. We got off topic.”

He flips through the papers—likely your resume and application and any other information he has on file—and hums. “It says here that you have experience managing an online platform. Would you care to elaborate?”

“Oh, that. It was for my friend’s family business. He’s a baker. The shop has a nice reputation in the neighborhood, but they don’t really have any social media presence. My friend and I thought his family could benefit from a website and a Magicam account, so we put both together. I was in charge of creating and managing the website.”

“I see.”

You notice Jade scribbling something and your heart drops into your stomach. “S-So I have experience in design and…stuff.”

Relax. Don’t pay attention to him.

“Then may I assume you’re passionate about photography and graphic design?”

“Very.”

“It’s good to have an eye for aesthetics. I can clearly see that from the samples you submitted. Your portfolio is impressive.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ashengrotto. I take pride in all of my work.”

“In that case, would you mind walking me through your portfolio?”

“I’d be happy to.” You scoot closer to his desk without thinking, gesturing to the prints he’s laid out for you. “That’s the website I designed for my friend. He wanted something simple, family-friendly, and easy to navigate. I had to appeal to both customers from the neighborhood and customers who might be visiting for the first time. Finding a balance was a little difficult, but I made it work after lots of dedicated effort.”

He gestures to another sample and you delve into the lore behind it. This carries on twice more before he indicates his satisfaction with a beaming smile.

“Aren’t you diligent?”

The delivery is more backhanded than you’d care to hear, but you choose to brush it aside. “Thank you.”

“Your baker friend… Are you employed?”

“Oh, not currently! It was just a side gig. A one-time thing.”

“Is that all?”

You open your mouth to reply and then stop. Did you hear him correctly? “Is… Is what all?”

“You may not work for him in that capacity, but you might in another capacity. ‘One-time things’ could snowball into—”

“It didn’t and it never will,” you interrupt. You realize your error seconds later and smooth out the abrasiveness in your tone. “My apologies. I meant to say that I’m not affiliated with him in any of those ways. I’m merely a friend who helped out where she could. Nothing more and nothing less.”

Azul hums flatly, as if disappointed. Jade scribbles. You swallow mounting dread.

What was that about?

“Very well. Moving swiftly on… Can you tell me about yourself? What drew you to this job?”

“I’ve always wanted to manage a social media account for a business like yours. There are so many branches. I think it’d be a very fulfilling experience.”

“Is there a particular branch you’re interested in?”

“Definitely one of your restaurants. I’ve worked with food websites and accounts before, so I have the necessary qualifications you might be seeking.”

“Social media is no easy task. It can be stressful to manage any platform in which you have a following. With that in mind, may I ask how you normally handle stressful or challenging situations?”

“I don’t get stressed very easily. I’m normally very level-headed.”

Liar. I’m so stressed right now. Sweating like crazy and everything!

As if listening in on your thoughts, Jade drags his pen across paper.

“But in the event that you might face such a situation?”

“If such a thing were to occur, I’d take a step back, analyze everything objectively, and see what I can do to mitigate the stress or difficulty that’s cropped up. If it’s a team effort, I’d gather everyone involved for a meeting so that we could discuss together.”

“And if it was an individual effort?”

“It depends on the severity of the stress. If it comes down to it, I’d have no problem notifying my supervisor or manager of the issue firsthand. The sooner you’re made aware of something, the easier it is to draw up a plan of action, right?”

“That can be true, yes.” Azul shuffles his files. “How would others describe you? From the perspective of a friend, perhaps? Or a spouse? Are you married?”

That’s…way too personal. Is that even an interview question? So far he’s asked everything Riddle went over in our mock interview. What’s up with this sudden shift?

You force a stiff laugh. “Not married yet, no…”

“Do you plan to be?”

“Um… I…don’t know. I’m focused on my career right now.”

“Ah, a career woman. Most women your age often settle down. Not you, though. Ambitious thing, aren’t you?”

Your lips twitch into the beginning of a scandalized grimace, but before you can allow your tactful façade to slip you hurry to paste an unruffled grin on your countenance. “I’m passionate,” you smoothly correct. You don’t miss the way Jade’s pen halts before he continues his duty as scribe. “If I may, Mr. Ashengrotto, did you not say you wanted to keep work and personal matters separate?”

“Forgive me. I was only testing you.”

Just what kind of test is that?

“O-Oh. Well, I hope I passed.”

“With flying colors.” He clears his throat. “Now then, what motivates you, Miss (Name)?”

“My friends and family. Myself. The food waiting for me at home.” He quirks a slight smile at that. “I always strive to do my best.”

“A fine attitude to have.”

“Mhm! I like what I do. Every day’s exciting and I love a good challenge.”

No, I don’t. I almost cried on the way here. This is too much of a challenge for me. I didn’t even think I’d get an email back from you…

“You seem like quite the optimist.” He straightens the papers once more and then clips them together. “I appreciate your insightful, honest answers.”

“Oh. Oh! Yes, right! Of course! Thank you for your time.” You practically jump out of your seat to shake his hand.

That was good, right? It felt so fast, but I did well. Right?

“If I may ask one final question…”

“Sure thing!”

Azul smiles. “Just how badly do you want this job?”

More than anything. I need this job. I’m unemployed and desperate. Please, Azul. You have to help me out.

Obviously you can’t phrase it like that, even though the spineless side of you wants to.

“I…would benefit greatly if I was hired. Working for you and your successful company would be an amazing honor.”

“Is that right?” He releases your hand. “All right. The job is yours.”

You blink at him, shocked. “Wait. It is?”

“On one condition.” Azul sits back in his plush office chair. It’s the expensive type. The one with cushions and reclining abilities. “Strip for me.”

Your blood crystallizes in your veins; your heart almost stops. “Excuse me?”

Surely he didn’t just say that. Surely he meant to say something else. Something like…strip all of your worries and accept this position? Your eyes drift over to Jade. He blinks back at you, a razored smile hidden behind his clipboard.

“If you’re willing to go to extremes for this job, prove it.”

“Mr. Ashengrotto… I…” You laugh, but nothing about this is funny. Bile rises in your throat, scalding with sickening acid. “I…”

“Go on then.” Azul waves his hand impatiently, deceptively youthful features twisting with annoyance. “I haven’t got all day.”

Your hands curl into fists, and you dig your nails into your palms so roughly that you break skin. He can’t be serious. He really can’t.

And yet he’s watching you like he expects it.

Again, you look to Jade for help. He lowers his clipboard. “It’s not polite to make one wait, Miss (Name). We pride ourselves on timely efficiency here.”

“But…” You swallow thickly, your hope slowly waning. “But this… This is absurd! I… You must be joking. I can’t possibly—”

“You can,” Azul interjects. “If you want this job, you will do just as I’ve said. Well? The choice is yours. I’ve played my hand.”

Warmth drains from your person until all that’s left is creeping cold.

Oh, you think with devastating resignation, it’s this kind of management. So this is how everyone survives here.

Inhaling through your nose, you steel yourself. Your fingers twitch towards the buttons on your blazer.

“Will I truly get the job?”

“That depends.”

“On what?” you ask, dreading the answer.

“On how far you’re willing to go.”

“C-Can he leave?”

Azul glances at Jade, a sticky smile spreading his lips wide. “Oh, you’ll hurt his feelings with that. How cruel. I can already see the tears brimming in Jade’s eyes.”

“Heartless,” Jade echoes with a sniffle.

You school your scowl into something friendly. “I… I’m sorry, but I don’t feel comfortable with him here…”

“And you do with me? I’m flattered, but our past has nothing to do with this. I’m grateful you bothered to give me a Valentine every school year, but those days are behind us. So stop wasting my time. It’s money, and every second you spend stalling is a Madol lost.”

Your lip trembles, but you don’t cry. You won’t give either of these rotten monsters the satisfaction.

“H-How much do I have to undress to get the job?” You toy with a button, regret pooling in your stomach.

It’s not worth it. I should leave.

You should, but can you?

“We’ll see. I’m feeling generous today, so your fortune may just be favorable.”

Hopeless, you shut your eyes, exhale a defeated breath, and harden your features into something unshakeable.

I’m sorry, Riddle. I’m not a gear here. I’m not even human.

Slowly, while holding unbreakable eye contact, you undo each button on your blazer. You shrug out of it seconds later, dropping it to the floor unceremoniously. Azul and Jade follow your movements like expert predators ensorcelled by prey.

Here, in this hellish bathyal zone, I’m just a whale fall.

From there, you move to your blouse next. You untuck it from your pencil skirt, allowing the fabric to fall freely. Deft fingers work at the buttons, traveling further down until there’s nothing left of the garment protecting your nudity. That, too, joins the slowly forming heap on the floor. The action leaves both men transfixed, and they eye your lacy white bralette as if attempting to sear the sight into their retinas. At one point, Jade decides to write something down. You fondly contemplate all the ways in which he should die.

“Will that be all?”

“Keep going.”

“Haven’t I done enough?”

“If you have room in that mouth to voice complaints, you can stuff it with my—”

You yank your pencil skirt down, silencing the sin that was ready to spill from Azul’s lips. Jade doesn’t muffle his snicker. Again, you fantasize about pushing him out the window.

I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

With trembling hands, you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra. It’s peeled from your chest then, exposing your tits for their ravenous leering. Their silence says enough. After what feels like an eternity, Azul stops you when you start to slide your panties down.

“I’ve seen enough.”

“On the contrary, I’ve yet to have my fill.” Jade smiles at you, hiding behind his clipboard like the coy bastard he is.

You stand there, clutching your bra so tightly your knuckles ache. “Is… Is it over?”

“For now.”

At that, you fall to your knees, wrap your arms around your chest, and suck in great gulps of air. Fixing your stare on the floor, you find yourself unable to meet his azure hues. If you do, you may just vomit. Footsteps click their way over to you. He pauses; you can feel his gaze burning through you. And then his fingers ghost over your bare shoulder, dancing like playful puppets.

“You start Monday. Bright and early,” Azul says. There’s a detached, clinical edge to the fluff. “I expect wonderful things from you, Miss Marketing Manager.”

As if his words have materialized to topple you—to shatter what’s left of your dignity—you almost collapse. Your arms shoot out to catch you; your palms press against the icy tiles. Still, you don’t cry. Jade’s leather shoes enter your line of sight, which immediately dries your ducts. You don’t have to look to see the satisfied smirk sharpening on his lips because you hear it.

“I must thank you for the entertaining show. Perhaps you should have considered a career in acting.” He drapes your blazer over your shoulders for added effect.

It’s the loudest fuck you in the quietest sentence.

I hope you die a million painful deaths, you despotic, disgusting dickhead.

When you finally stagger out of the building—fully clothed and gutted—dropping thirty-something floors from heaven to the sensible earth below in a compact lift, you fish your phone out of your bag. You’re moving on autopilot when you press his contact. Trey answers on the third ring.

“I was waiting for this call. So what’s the news? Am I baking a celebration cake or a consolation cake? I’m ready for either one. Just say the word.”

The tears are already streaming down your face. You wipe them away, smudging your makeup in the process. “No consolation needed. I… I got the job…”

“See? I knew you’d get it. This’ll be the best celebration cake you’ve ever tasted. Just you wait and—hey, you okay? You don’t sound good.”

You open and close your mouth, unable to pull a reply from the dry depths of your throat. For one minute, Trey listens to your soft, hiccuping sobs. “I’m just—” you sniffle— “I’m so happy… I can’t wait to eat cake.”

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere azul #yandere azul x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader #n/sfw

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thewintersoldatt · 2 months

Text

SORRY, NOT SORRY -RAFE CAMERON

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x fem!listener

Summary: Rafe can be a “good” boyfriend when he wants to be… with a sprinkle of manipulation of course.

Warnings: Naughty language, Fluff low-key from our toxic daddy, ft. JJ being a chaotic mess.

notes: This audio is set during 1x05. Instead of it being midsummer's, it's the listeners birthday! I've been working on this all week and I'm tired of listening to it on repeat, so if something doesn't add up, it's because I got lazy. And I wish Rafe told me he loved me. 😭

word count: Its audio, my panties are wet and so are yours.

Scene one

JJ: Ah, would you look at this! It's our birthday girl!

You: What are you doing here?

Our cutie patootie rambles on then walks off with the security guard.

During this pause count to about 6 or 7.

You: What the hell did you guys do to his face?

Rafe: We didn't do anything… his face was like that when he…showed up.

You: Well, why did you guys corner him in here?

Rafe: We were just making sure... he knew his place. And that he's not allowed here. If anything, we were doing you and your parents a favor, I mean, god knows what he already took.

You: You promised me you wouldn’t start anything tonight, Rafe.

Rafe: Can you give us a minute? I'd like to talk to my girlfriend... alone, so get out. Alright, um, can I speak first since you wanna do this right now?

You: Go ahead.

Rafe: How long have you lived here?

You: I was born here.

Rafe: Yes you were born here, but where - where did you grow up?

You: Figure 8.

Rafe: Yes, you grew up on Figure 8. And where did... our pal JJ grow up?

You: The cut.

Rafe: The Cut. and that's exactly my point, baby. We're kooks. And... what is JJ again?

You: Jesus, Rafe don't start-

Rafe: Come on, you wanna talk, let’s talk. What about communication? Isn’t that what we're supposed to be working on?

Count to 3 during this pause.

You: He’s a pouge.

Rafe: See that wasn't so hard, now was it? Now, let me make something clear, and stop me if you get a little confused - you and me. We’re practically royalty on this island. We’re together for a reason. And before you saying, yes I do love you. I always have and I always will. You’re mine. You’re it for me, sweetheart. And… you’re a kook. So, start acting like one before I do something about it, mkay?

You: God, you’re a dick you know that? How about you leave too.

Rafe: Ugh, look I’m sorry, alright? It’s just… it’s just when I saw him on the patio talking to Sarah I lost it. This is supposed to be your day and I didn’t want him ruining it. Kind of like when… uh… we switched out the coke with flour and gave it to Top because he ate your cupcakes.

You: And how is that relevant to this?

Rafe: It’s sorta the same thing. You - you worked hard on those. Uh, he ate them. I was pissed because they were for me. And you were upset because I wanted to punch him in the throat. Tomato, tomahto. Blah, blah, blah. See you’re smiling, I love it when you smile.

You: You’re such a sap.

Rafe: I love you.

You: I love you too.

Rafe: And again, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause a scene, I just didn’t know how else to get him to leave. You know how JJ and his friends are. All of them are drawn to us like a moth to a flame. Now, uh, can we put this behind us and get back to the party?

You: Thats the smartest thing that’s come out of your fat mouth all night, baby.

Rafe: By the way, I really do think he took something from your bedroom.

You: What?

Rafe: I saw him come down from the hallway, unless he took something from your dad’s office?

You: You’re serious?

Rafe: As a heart attack.

You: But… I’ve never done anything to him.

Rafe: That’s what they do though. You should know this by now. They butter you up, just to take whatever they can right from under our noses. It’s sick, if I’m being honest.

You: So much for trying to be civil.

Rafe: I know, yeah, I’ll talk to your dad, and um, see what we can do. But for now, let’s go celebrate. It’s not everyday someone turns 17.

@rafesapologist @rvfecamerons @sadfury @rafesthroatbaby @rafesaddiction @hockeybabe87 @rafeinterlude @starkeyisthelastname @secretly-tumb1r @kingkylie444 @stayonmars @maybankswhore @barbiiecams @princessmisery666 @ilovebarrykeoghan

If you would like to be tagged, I gotchu sis.

#drew starkey #ai generated #rafe x you #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #i’m in love #my original post #my original writing #enjoy the audio

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cryptidghostgirl · 1 month

Text

Drawing Down the Moon (Alastor x Ancient Roman!Witch!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: I don't think there are any? Please correct me if I am wrong. The subject matter is a little niche.

Description: Alastor reencounters an old friend.

Word Count: 2,871

Master Lists:

All Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Alastor Master List

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

A/N i’ve been reading about roman magic laws for school okay?? don’t judge me. Maybe one of the nichest things I've ever written (except that one Akutagawa x Reader fic I have on my Wattpad where I made them talk to one another in ancient Greek and Latin (its called Leo, Leonis and tbh, that fic slaps if I do say so myself)). Won't be surprised if no one reads or likes this one but I don't care. This will be a monster of a fic, she's been lurking in the recesses of my mind for a hot second now.

"Why would she lie for so long? Does she think I wouldn't accept her?" Charlie was animatedly talking at Alastor as they walked the streets of Hell, "What about me, ME, says un understanding... misunderstanding?... Disunder- Wait, w-where are we?"

Alastor sprung to life as Charlie finally asked a question he had an answer to. Theatrically, he stepped into her curious line of sight, his arms held wide.

"Cannibal Town!" respectfully, Alastor turned and took Charlie's arm in his own, "There's a friend of mine I think you should meet."

"In Cannibal Town?" Charlie doubtfully asked as Alastor began to lead her towards a crowded shop entrance, "But it's... it's... surprisingly nice here."

"Isn't it, though?" Alastor proudly replied, "And it is all thanks to a very special someone."

Alastor opened the stained glass doors to the emporium, allowing Charlie to walk through them before he followed in her wake. The store was full, packed to the brim with cannibals of all sorts, all of whom seemed to part respectfully in the face of Alastor, allowing him to approach the front counter with Charlie trailing after him.

"Ah, Johnny my good fellow." Alastor hummed to the cashier, leaning casually on the counter.

The demon seated behind the table looked up with a wide smile.

"Mister Alastor, it has been quite a while since we've seen your face around these parts."

Charlie watched the interaction in mild surprise. It wasn't often she had the pleasure of meeting someone Alastor knew who didn't hate him or want him dead. Curiosity clouded her mind as Alastor waved the man off.

"I don't mean to be rude but, we're in a bit of a rush." Alastor said, politeness pooling delicately around his words, "Rosie wouldn't happen to be in, would she?"

"Ah, well, you see, Mister Alastor..." the demon seemed slightly uncomfortable, scratching at his ear slightly, "She's a tad... preoccupied at the moment?"

"A guest?" Alastor asked.

"A guest." Johnny reluctantly confirmed.

"Well, no matter. Is she in the back?"

"Yes," Johnny got to his feet, leaning forward as Alastor linked arms with Charlie once again, leading her behind the counter, "but I really don't think it's a good idea to... and they're gone."

"Wasn't that rude?" Charlie asked as Alastor pulled her behind the curtain that separated the main store from the backrooms and Rosie's apartment, "Oh no, is that guy going to get in trouble? Because of us?"

"Everything will be just fine my dear, don't you worry." Alastor patted her hand reassuringly as they came to stop before a door.

Letting Charlie's arm fall free, he straightened his jacket just the slightest bit before knocking on the door. There was a moment of silent anticipation before a voice from the other side called:

"Who is it?!"

"Alastor, Rosie." Alastor replied calmly.

There was a rustling of fabric, a handful of hasty footsteps, and the door swung open to reveal a woman. She was tall and beautiful in her long dress and her wide brimmed hat.

"Oh my stars!" she exclaimed with a bright smile, "Do my eyes deceive me? Alastor? Alastor! Where have you been? These halls really lost some of their sparkle without your lively presence and-"

The woman, Rosie, trailed off as she caught sight of Charlie standing beside her dear friend.

"Oh, who's this you brought with you? Come now, Alastor, she's much too young for you. Oh, I'm just kidding. But where are your manners, Mister? Introduce us, why don't you?"

"Ah, yes, Charlie, this is Rosie: the most darling, delightful, and dangerous Overlord this side of the pentagram."

At his words, Rosie smiled, giving a perfect curtsy. It was as her form lowered that Charlie caught sight of the interior of the room, and the strange seated figure it housed. Alastor seemed not to have noticed and as Rosie straightened herself up again, she laughed slightly.

"Oh, always such a charmer."

"And Rosie," Alastor continued, "it is my pleasure to introduce you to Princess Charlie Morningstar, daughter of Lucifer and heir to the throne of Hell."

Charlie smiled weakly, waving slightly at the imposing and nearly off-puttingly cheerful woman.

"How do you do?" she asked awkwardly, "I am very sorry for interrupting your meeting, I tried to get Alastor to wait but..."

"Oh, yes!" Rosie suddenly exclaimed, almost as if she had forgotten about her previous guest in all the excitement, "Come on in you two, I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

Charlie was about to protest when Rosie grabbed her by the arm, dragging her into the room. Alastor followed, turning his back as he shut the door behind them. Charlie's mouth fell open slightly as her eyes finally saw the truth of Rosie's guest.

She was tall, probably tall enough to rival Alastor or Rosie herself. Skin tinged slightly blue, she seemed to be covered in a faint gold dust that clung to her draped, toga-like dress and skin in equal amount. Heaps of gold jewelry hung on every inch of her as well, wrapping her wrists, her neck, her ankles, her fingers, even braided into her hair. Resting atop her head was a crown of gold with a half moon on it, her feet were bare. With wide, white eyes that nearly seemed unseeing, the woman watched Charlie carefully.

"Can I offer you something to eat?" Rosie was asking, but Charlie could barley hear her, unable to break eye contact with the woman, "I'm sure I have a leg around here or something..."

"I am afraid were not here for food." Alastor thankfully stepped in, turning to Rosie with closed eyes and a wide smile, "We happen to be in need of some help."

"Alastor?" the woman spoke and her voice resounded in itself, loud yet soft at the same time, singular and yet somehow plural.

"Well, aren't you fresh."

That was the first thing she had ever said to him. Alastor had been wandering Hell, minding his own business when he had heard that voice say those words and felt a fire ignited in him. Slowly, he had turned around to see a pair of towering demons. Overlords, he realized, and big ones at that. Alastor's smile sharpened at its edges as he began to formulate a plan.

Charlie turned at last, as if whatever spell the stranger had cast on her had broken at the sound of her voice, to look at Alastor in mild confusion. She heard his breath hitch in his throat. The man in question was frozen, his ears twitching wildly, his eyes now wide open.

"Is that you?" the demon asked again.

Alastor somehow seemed to reassemble himself before their very eyes. Slowly, he turned to the room's only occupied chair.

"Who are you?"

Alastor feigned innocence, looking up at the titan herself as she took a step forward. In an instant, she stood at his height, looking him dead in the eyes.

"An odd one too." she hummed thoughtfully, white eyes tracking the stars, reading his future it almost seemed, "Most people go with what before who."

Alastor was unsure how to respond to that one. The titan chuckled, a grin flashing across her face. It was unexpected, disconcerting. Alastor hadn't thought her face capable of any expression save solemn disinterest. She turned her head slightly to the side, looking back over her shoulder to her companion.

"Zestial, cara mea?"

The spidery demon took a step forward, meeting her eyes.

"Yes?"

"Don't you have something you need to be getting to?"

Alastor may have been dumbstruck, but he wasn't stupid. He heard the order as clearly as if she had not bothered with the formalities of disguising it. It shocked Alastor to his core. This might be his first time encountering Zestial but, he had heard the demon's name before. Most frequently, it had been spat at him by his victims who claimed that one of Hell's oldest and most respected demons would come for him. So who was this other overlord, the titan? Sure, he'd heard of her before but enough that such blatant disrespect towards Hell's most respected made sense? No. Not at all, in fact.

Zestial paused a moment before bowing his head slightly.

"You're quite right." he hummed, "I will be seeing you presently I expect?"

"Perchance." the titan lazily replied, her gaze having long since switched back to Alastor, set on analyzing his features, "I'll let you know."

With another polite bow, Zestial had turned and began walking in the opposite direction. The titan held an arm out for Alastor. He looked at it curiously before meeting the demon's eye's again. She laughed.

"So suspicious. I thought you we're the one killing overlords, not me."

His eyes went wide.

"How do you..." he cleared his throat, "how did you know?"

It was a stupid question and he knew it. There hadn't been any secret keeping, not really. Sure, he never outright said he was the Radio Demon who broadcasted screams but he supposed there couldn't be many Radio Demon's out there really. It didn't matter that he had only been going after overlords for a month or so now, she was one. Of course she would know.

"Let's go for a walk, shall we?"

All it took was one look. Suddenly, he was new again, spat fresh out of life on Earth and in to Hell's gaping maw. One look at her, and he dissolved at the edges, forming and reforming his own ability to speak and comprehend the world around him.

"It is." the woman hummed, a wide smile breaking across her face, revealing the blackness of her teeth, her mouth.

Alastor soon formed a bit of a soft spot for the inhuman overlord. It was that first meeting, that first walk. He had asked, hunting for information to wield against her, about her life on Earth and in Hell. It was her fault really, for answering. That's what had him stuck.

Y/n had laid her life out for him like a freshly pressed table cloth. She had been raised on the streets of ancient Rome and executed as a witch. She was perhaps the oldest demon remaining in Hell, the exterminations having eventually wiped out even the strongest members of her times. Just as Alastor had been reborn as a deer due to his death, so too was she reborn as what they had accused her of. Every ritual, every spell, prophecy itself all worked for her. It was then Alastor understood the interaction he had witnessed between Zestial and Y/n, then he understood the respect.

He found himself drawn to her more and more and, somehow, he always seemed to be able to find her when he went searching. He assumed it was some strange magical nonsense she controlled. Alastor didn't question it.

Y/n showed him Hell in a way he had never seen it before. She taught him where to gather herbs and how to use them, how to bend the earth to his will, how to spin iunges and call down the storms, the rain, the moon. Alastor devoured, fed by her hand.

It was odd, Charlie had never seen a demon like her before. The white eyes, the teeth black with what seemed to be darkness, the gold. All of it was off putting yet somehow, captivating. Alastor seemed to be acting weird, his eyes flitting wildly across the woman, taking in her every detail. Charlie wasn't sure what to do about that.

In some sense, Alastor seemed to be scared. In another, he was in an overjoyed state of disbelief. Charlie wasn't sure which was more disconcerting, or how to respond to either and so, she simply watched.

"I have a question, mea ocella."

Y/n announced one day and Alastor turned from where he sat spinning stories into his microphone at her feet. That was what she had called him, her little eye. She told him it was a term of endearment. Alastor had no reason to doubt. The red grass swayed slightly in the breeze as he looked up at her, immediately bringing a halt to his broadcast.

"What is it?"

"You've been so set on ending all us overlords for so long now," she hummed, "wouldn't you like to do something different?"

"Something like what?"

"See from the other side of the glass."

Her white eyes glowed blue, the gold on her skin shining out into the world around like stars. Alastor sighed.

"You're prophesying again."

She nodded in agreement. Y/n had never seen the point in lying, she had never known its use. Not since before she could remember, back in the times she lived. They were so distant now, so immaterial and unimportant she rarely payed those memories much mind.

"So, what is it you see me doing?"

"Simple riddle or play on words?"

The two types of prophesy, the two options. Alastor put a finger to his chin, humming in thought.

"Simple riddle. Please, not in dactylic hexameter if you would, decoding that always gives me a headache."

"But that has been the meter of prophecy since Justice herself sat on the Delphic throne, mea ocella." Y/n retorted in surprise, meeting Alastor's eyes.

"Yeah, well."

Y/n laughed lightly, looking back out blankly toward the future.

"As you wish, ocella. Just this once. My gift to you."

Alastor hummed his non-comital thanks, turning his gaze back out the the skyline of the city as well.

"One will be two, two will be four, when that number comes be ready for more. Seven years past under grim sudden stress, four becomes ten, I'll tell you what happens next. Help one bright star to the top, not too far, and you will be free from the one not the three."

"Rhymes? Really?"

Y/n looked down at him, the glow fading from her as their eyes met and the future vanished from the scope of her vision.

"You asked for no hexameter, I still get to have fun."

"Yeah, yeah."

The pair fell into a comfortable silence. Alastor ran the words of her fortune in his head, trying to gain any semblance of reason from them.

"They don't sound very... avoidable."

"That's because it's not one of the ones you can change."

"Oh."

Y/n pulled herself to her feet suddenly, her chiton swirling around her. Alastor watched in awe as her image flickered in the air for a moment between the image of herself just a head shorter than him, the one who loomed around nine feet tall, and some three headed monster at what must've been five stories. Leaning, she held a hand out for him to grasp. It took Alastor a moment to realize, shaking his head slightly as he at last accepted Y/n's help and got to his feet.

"Where are we going?"

"I've decided you are going to be an overlord, mea ocella."

"Why?"

"I think it might help you down the line."

It had been years since Alastor had seen her. Long before he had taken his so called seven year sabbatical, Y/n had vanished. Alastor knew she wasn't dead, he would have been able to tell if she was dead. Surly the world would have shifted in some new and strange way to lose the goddess of the crossroads, the titan, Hekate made flesh and blood. Nothing like that had happened and so he knew she was alive, just not where or how.

Y/n's prophecies were always accurate. Standing here before her now, Alastor recalled her words from all those decades before.

One will be two, two will be four. When that number comes, be ready for more.

One had been just him. Two? When he had died and met his shadow. Alastor realized now that three had been Y/n herself and that the fourth important person who had come into his afterlife was the very person who owned his soul.

Seven years past under grim sudden stress, four becomes ten, I'll tell you what happens next.

Seven years he'd been gone, indeed under an unexpected and disastrous situation. When, after seven long years, he had returned to Hell, he had gone to the hotel. It was at the Hazbin Hotel that he not only met Charlie, Vaggie, Angel, and Sir Pentious but that they became vital parts of his life along with Husk and Nifty who before then had mostly existed on the periphery. Those six, plus the original four, made ten.

Help one bright star to the top, not too far, and you will be free from the one not the three.

All along, all those years ago, she had known. Alastor had always respected Y/n, always harbored a soft and disconcerting love for the witch. Never before now had either felt so overwhelming. Alastor took a trembling step forward from his place at Charlie's side. The world closed in, she was the only thing he could see.

Y/n smiled as he sunk to his knee before her, his head bowed.

"Mea ocella." she happily hummed, lifting his head up gently with the tips of her bluish grey fingers.

"Y/n."

----

This fic will probably have a part two.

TAGS:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0 @kahlan170 @wendyphan01203-blog @fairyv-ice @clarakainda @lunaramune @mcueveryday @luxky-aish @peterpankat @corvid007 @juskonutoh @simpingsohard @sethianaa @gabile18 @slytherin4ever @skyeliteratures @zombiesnips-blog

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shugar0cone · 3 months

Text

“Are we bad people”

-summary-

A y/n x Alastor story where they where the killers Alastor was reporting. Oh and y/n is questioning it.

About a month ago I found out my husband was the killer he obsessed about. My reaction was dumb except for throwing up from the realization on his deer meat being off. I could not believe what I seen but at the same time I knew deep deep down he was it, but i could not come to the term of it. I loved my husband more deep than I should have.

“Alastor?” I looked at him, I never had fear over this man, sure he could kill me but if he wanted too he could, we slept in the same bed for Christ sake. “Yes, my dear.” He was digging the hole for Mr.Johnson, he cheated on his wife when he was on a business trip, too much fat to get real proteins out of him. “Why.” I really had to think of how to word this. He was bi polar snapping from the Alastor I know to the Alastor of the night in the shed. “Why, do we murder.” He stopped his shovel. I tensed, my screams couldn’t be heard this far out, animals would eat me in seconds, and if I ran fuck what am I saying mans got legs of a giraffe. I held alastors shot gun, I was scared, for the first time in my life. The owls stoped hooting, crickets went silent. “Darling.” I snapped out of my thoughts. “We kill the bad people.” I thought about it, he was right. We killed from the whores to child abusers. We did kill the bad, but does that make us good?

Surprise surprise we both ended up in hell. I constantly thought about that night. The night of why, why we killed. Maybe now it’s different, for him it’s power, fear, and entertainment. I just wanted to punish the bad. I was feared as much as AL, having a small area in the pentagram. It was the cleanest and most organized area anyone who disobeyed and called out they met with ME, then never was seen again.

It was late one night. I watched over my people or citizens I don’t know how to put it. Deep in thought, wondering what I’ll do for this, that, and more normal overloard shit.

“Darling why all the sulking!” He popped up out of nowhere I was used to it by this point. “I’m not sulking hun.” I pushed my hair back. “Just.” I breathed out. “Watching the devil ducks fly or..” I cut down twords two ducks fight the other bitting its head off. “What ever those freaks do.” I laughed. “Ah.” He stood right next to me. “I hate it when ya lie, darling.” He got frustrated. “I know you.” He said laughing. He grabbed my chin, looking at me. His eyes made contact with mine, I looked down ashamed of what I’m going to say

“Are we the bad people…”

A/N: Wow! I like this honestly it’s hard bc I’m used to putting oc’s names and not y/n and some might be vague anyways thanks for reading hun!

-Shugar

#alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel

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nyoomiin · 2 months

Text

'til the end of the line.

“do you believe in fate?”

in which one late night conversation spirals into many, many more.

pairing. danheng x gn!reader

tags. no warnings, slice of life, fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, healer!reader

notes. yes this is a repost <333 i adore this fic so much

Screeching metal, the glint of a blade, a sickening stab and a pierce through his heart. Panic stricken, he whirled around, barely able to retaliate before he was pulled down under.

Then, there was nothing.

Dan Heng’s eyes flicker open, calm despite the pounding in his heart. He was never one to dream, and more of the kind who never woke up fully rested. Yet, they were always similar in nature when he did, phantom pains ghosting over his chest in their wake. There was no point in trying to get back to bed now — his body had already had its fill, it seemed.

He heads to the kitchen, suddenly parched.

Clattering noise resounds from his destination, and he tenses, the residual fight or flight instincts kicking in immediately. Who could possibly…?

It was only you.

You were new. He didn’t know much about you, actually. The day before was your first day as a passenger of the Astral Express, and he had watched from the shadows as you flit about, chattering and bubbling and sunny. He left for the archives before March dragged him out and introduced him to you.

You were… baking, humming a cheerful little tune as you did.

“What are you doing?” he asks anyway.

You startle, neck snapping around to see him. Batter spills from the whisk in your hand and onto the ground. Your eyes widen at the sight of him, looking him up and down, but he supposes he must seem a mess, having crawled out of bed post-nightmare.

“Oh,” you say finally, “I’m making cookies.”

“... At this hour?”

You snort, using the whisk to gesture between him and you. “Pot, kettle. What are you doing awake at this hour?”

“I wanted water,” he replies. “That’s nothing like baking.”

Shrugging, you turn back to the counter. It’s a right mess, with crockery and ingredients scattered and strewn across. Still, you move with practised ease. You must do this a lot, he notes. His observations are confirmed when you speak again. “I like baking when I can’t sleep. You?”

“I work.”

You chuckle, and it’s a warm thing. “To each their own, I guess. Anyway, you getting that water or what?”

Ah. Right. He moves from the doorway and toward the tap when you whirl around, eyes alight. He doesn’t have the time to be startled before your hands are firm against his shoulder, guiding him toward the seat at the aisle.

“No,” you seem to decide, “I’ll make us both hot chocolate.”

Amusement bubbles in his gut. You were endearing, in a way. He can’t seem to get angry at the flour stains on his sleeve, too. You work fast, and in no time there’s a steaming mug of goodness being offered to him. It’s warm, he thinks, but your expectant eyes might be warmer.

Your head jerks toward the cup, so he drinks. It’s good. Better than good, actually. He can feel the heat seeping down his throat and through his chest, pooling near his naval. When was the last time he had a drink this comforting?

“Good, isn’t it?” you ask, taking the seat across him. You sigh contentedly as you sip on your own mug, drink cradled in your hands. “My best friend used to make it for me.”

Then you slap a hand over your mouth, eyes comically wide. He frowns faintly, curious and wary. “I still don’t know your name! And you don’t know mine either! Damn, you must think I’m weird.”

Compared to March, or even Stelle, he feels you’re pretty tame. He doesn’t say that, though. “My name is Dan Heng. I am the guard of the Astral Express and its archiver.”

You introduce yourself in turn, grinning sheepishly. “So you’re the one I hadn’t met.”

He nods slowly. “I suppose I am.”

You stand then, stretching as you do. Your mug clinks as you set it down in the sink. “I’ll finish my baking now. You can leave your mug there after you’re done. I’ll clean up.”

Glancing down, he realises his hot chocolate has long gone. He stands too.

(That morning, he rises to a box of fresh cookies by his door. Chocolate chips. He decides those are his favourite sort now.)

—

The first time he officially meets you is two days later. Somehow, your schedules hadn’t aligned until March was physically pounding on his door.

“DAN HENG!” March shrieks, excitement coating her tone. “Muffins! Come on! Have some with us — they’re great!”

“I’m coming,” he assures her, “Would it kill you to relax?”

She blows him a raspberry, grabbing his wrist and making a break for the parlour carriage. And these muffins really do smell great, it’s buttery scent wafting through the express even from where they are. He has a sneaking suspicion on the identity of their maker.

The first thing he sees stepping inside the parlour is Stelle unceremoniously stuffing her face. “Wha’?” she asks, mouth filled to the brim. “‘ey’re very goo’.”

A laugh draws his attention from Stelle to you. A bashful smile sits on your face, whilst you hold out a tray of blueberry muffins. “I’m glad you like them, but don’t eat too fast — what if you choke?”

Stelle waves your concern away and your gaze finds him, your smile widening. You’re wearing an apron with the words Kiss the Cook printed on, hair tied in a messy bun. Honestly, it’s adorable.

“You want one?” you ask, holding the tray out to him.

March bounds forward before he can reply, swinging an arm around his shoulders with a force that makes him stumble forward. “This is Dan Heng!” she chirps. “He looks mean but he’s really not. He’s all sweet and mushy inside, but don’t tell him I said that.”

“I’m literally right beside you.”

You snort, and he takes a muffin from your tray, thanking you softly. Grinning, you look him up and down like you did that night, eyes are tinged with amusement. “Bet you fight well too.”

March nods eagerly. “One of the best I’ve ever seen! It’s like — Hiya! Kapow! And everyone’s down.”

“Huh. What I’d give to fight like that,” you muse, more to yourself.

“Nah. You keep making these and we’ll keep you here for life,” Stelle pipes up, having inhaled the last of the muffins.

Laughing brightly, the three of you begin chattering away, drifting to the other side of the parlour. He takes a seat near the window and a bite of your muffin. Damn, it’s like biting into a piece of heaven. He can’t tell if he wants to devour everything you have or squirrel it away to treasure it later.

Himeko sits on the seat beside him, eyeing the muffin in his hand and following his gaze towards the three of them. “Y/N really has a knack for baking, hm?”

You do, he agrees. You must practise a lot. Admiring the curve of your lips as you smile, the glittering warmth in your eyes, he wonders where you are headed. Most passengers don’t stay long, excluding the Nameless. He’ll miss you, he thinks.

“Y/N’ll be joining the crew,” Himeko says, as if reading his mind. “It was time someone who follows the path of Abundance joined our ranks, anyway.”

You’ve been hopping from world to world, different IPC ships and had been just about everywhere, helping people affected by the Fragmentum, before Himeko approached you on Herta’s Space Station, she explains. You had never accepted money, only food and shelter and enough to get by before you’d move on.

How noble.

“That’s a lot of work,” he comments. If that was how it was then it’s no wonder you’re so warm. You carried that air of self-assurance that most healers had, something he hadn’t quite placed before.

Himeko nods, smiling faintly. “Y/N is a good person. I think we’ll help them as much as they’ll help us.”

He didn’t quite understand what she meant by that last statement, but she didn’t elaborate, and he never asked. Instead, he directs his gaze out the window and at the winking stars. He wonders how many are worlds you’ve helped before.

—

Screeching metal, the glint of a blade, a sickening stab and a pierce through his heart. Panic stricken, he whirled around, barely able to retaliate before he was pulled down under.

Then, there was silence.

Dan Heng’s eyes flicker open, his chest raw like the moment he first received the wound. The same dream twice in a week? He sits up, breath escaping in shallow puffs. Standing, he’s out the door before he even realises it, body moving on its own accord.

Water would be good, he decides. Maybe you’d be there too, call it a hunch or call it hope.

He was right. There you were, puttering about the kitchen under the lamp’s golden glow, a soft tune dancing under your breath. Resting a shoulder against the doorframe, he can’t quite decide what to say.

What a coincidence was too snarky, yet what are you making was too blunt. He couldn’t just walk in without saying a word either, that was too rude. Perhaps he should simply return to his room.

“I’m starting to think neither of us sleep.”

Your voice startles him out of his thoughts, and he finds you leaning against the counter, smiling at him with soft amusement. Unwittingly, he begins to smile too. Just the slightest.

“No, I guess not,” he agrees.

“Rough night?” you ask, turning to reach for two mugs. “I’ll make some hot chocolate.”

“You don’t have to,” he says, mostly out of courtesy. Just the thought of the warm drink reveals a slight craving for it. “Nightmares,” he finds himself admitting, something in the atmosphere drawing the confession that much easier. “No, memories, to be precise.”

“Ah, I get it,” you murmur, and he feels like you really do.

He seats himself in the same seat he did three nights prior, and you do as well. The mug of hot chocolate you offer him is accepted gratefully. They might become his favourite drink yet. You have a knack for making them feel like drinking warm hugs.

“I’m making cupcakes tonight,” you explain, noticing the way he glances at the batter on the counter. “Red velvet, one of my favourites.”

He nods in assent, and the both of you settle into comfortable silence. You’ve relaxed into your seat, he observes, resting your head against a hand as the other taps on your mug rhythmically, the porcelain clinking as you do. He maps out the lines of your face whilst you map out each constellation outside, gazing into the eternal night.

“Do you believe in fate?” you ask suddenly, in the moments just before his mug goes cold. He had finished the drink ages ago, he realises. He frowns faintly then, bewildered at the change in the conversation’s direction.

You must sense his confusion, and you’re continuing, “You know, when everything in your life happens because it was meant to be, and all that.”

“I know what fate is,” he replies, “But… why?”

“Why not?” you answer, a playful smile on your lips. “Just… hell, even gods are real, but no one has an answer to it, fate, destiny, or free will?”

You seem to be serious despite your lighthearted tone, so he tries to give you a serious answer in turn.

“I don’t,” he says slowly. “Fate is… complicated. To believe your future is set in stone is foolish at best. What I do believe in is the existence of free will. Life is filled with countless possibilities. Everyone has a path to walk, but it is the individual that chooses their direction.”

“What do you believe in?” he ends off, looking at you piercingly. You’re sitting upright now, alert but pondering all the same.

You hum. “I think… some things really are meant to be, but in the end, it’s your own hands that forge your destiny, no? Fate, free will… whatever it is… It might simply be just what we make of it.”

“Yet if there is no right answer, why ask anyway?” he counters.

Your eyes sparkle, and at that moment, you just might have the universe in your eyes. “Maybe some questions are meant to be asked.”

“And some things aren’t meant to have an answer?”

“Exactly,” you say, with the vigour of a bursting sun. “Nothing matters. Everything matters. Maybe…”

You trail off, an embarrassed chuckle sounding in your throat. “Yea, I have no idea what I just said.”

He can’t quite stop the laugh that leaves his lips.

(Some time later, you stand, stretching as you do. “Damn, I might leave the baking for another day,” you say, voice thick on the cusp of a yawn. “All this philosophical stuff is making me sleepy. You should get some sleep too, I think both of us need it.”

When he returns to his room, something in him prompts him to heed your advice. He sleeps.)

—

Somehow, both of you had taken to ‘meeting’ in the kitchens during the twilight hours, once every few days. He’d wake up after a nightmare or when sleep simply eluded him, and found you with your sun-like eyes, the songs under your breath and the hot chocolates that felt so much like hugs. You’d speak about anything and everything under the stars, of questions with no answers and answers that meant everything and nothing. Then you’d part ways with his mind swirling and chest bursting, all traces of that phantom wound gone.

(There were days you weren’t there, of course, and he’d be faintly disappointed, but you did still need sleep.)

He’s computing data on Jarilo-VI when someone knocks on his door. It can’t be March, as she’d simply forgo all etiquette and barge in after the first knock. Stelle was out exploring the planet they were currently stationed at, and both Himeko and Mr. Yang were busy. That left… you.

“Come in,” he calls, hearing the door slide open and click shut.

You’ve been an official member of the Astral Express crew for a month now, and this was the first time you’ve specifically sought him out. You’re smiling slightly sheepishly, hand picking at your palm. “Are you busy? I can come back another time…”

He sets down the files, looking up from the monitor. “No, it’s fine. What do you need?”

“I wanted to learn more about Yaoshi,” you tell him, sidling up to his side.

“You can use this,” he says, tilting the screen to you and standing up. He can complete archiving later. The work never ended, in any case. “Search up whatever you need.”

“Thanks!”

He makes himself comfortable at the other corner of his room, picking up the half-finished book on his desk. Vaguely, he’s aware of his bed on the ground and the mess that is his half area of the room. He hopes you don’t think too much of it.

A while later, you stretch, letting out a sigh as your hands drop back to your sides. Your gaze darts around the room inquisitively. “So, this is the archives…” you murmur. Then your eyes meet his. “And your room?”

“I hadn’t planned on staying for long,” he says quickly, an odd need to explain rising. “Then, I suppose I got comfortable.”

You smile, a tad bit wry. “It’s definitely got charm — like that map!”

And you’re getting up, fixated on the large map on the wall. Your eyes are starry, mouth slightly parted as you study the endless abyss that is the observable universe. “That’s, wow, has the Express been to all of them?”

“Not even a fraction of it.” His reply is soft, much like the moment itself.

Your hand raises, reaching for the blank areas at the edges. “So I’m guessing these are the parts yet to be.”

“The universe is always expanding,” he says in lieu of an explanation. “And the Express will trailblaze along with it.”

“That sounds rather pointless, doesn’t it? Mapping out the infinity?” you muse. “Boarding a train whose line never ends? Or does that make it poetic?”

“I suppose it depends on how you look at it.”

You swivel around, eyes bright and blazing with delight, and he can’t quite place why his breath catches. “Maybe that’s just how the universe is meant to be. A line with no end. A atlas which always has two blank pages at the end.”

You seem to catch yourself then, gaze darting downward and a chuckle leaving your lips. “Sorry, I always get weird about these kinds of philosophical stuff.”

“It’s alright,” he assures you, it really is. Life would be that much duller if he had to do without these types of conversations with you. You meet his gaze then, almost bashful, and in that moment, he can’t seem to tear his eyes away.

Then you blink, clearing your throat, and the moment vanishes.

“Right. I’ve been here long enough, though, so I’ll just… go now,” you say awkwardly, sending him a dizzying smile before you’re bounding out the room.

—

Weirdly enough, despite everything he’s seen in this life and before, this was certainly one of the oddest situations he’s been in.

He’s in March’s room, a room bursting with colour and vividness, a stark contrast to his. You’re here too, along with Stelle and March herself. Positioned in the fluffy armchair in the corner, he’s got the best view of the entire place along with the door. Stelle’s made herself comfortable, spread eagled on the bed whilst March and you are seated beside her cross-legged.

He’s not too sure how it came to be so. The three of you turned out to be quite the trio, and he had been in his room as per usual when you three burst in, manhandling him into joining you. (With that grin and your hand on his wrist, he’s partly sure he’d follow you anywhere.)

“Wait, so your name isn’t Stelle because of the stellaron in you?” you ask, head tilted to the side.

Stelle shrugs. “It could be? I don’t remember much of anything before I woke up on the space station.”

“And March’s name is ‘cuz she was found on March 7th…” Then, you pout. “Now I want a cool made up name. Is Dan Heng a made up name?”

“All names are made up,” he tells you dryly.

March blows a raspberry at him. “Don’t be such a wet blanket —” Her eyes light up, and she visibly straightens. “I know! I know! Stelle also means star, I think? We can be the sun, moon and stars! Uhm, I’ll be Solar and you’ll be Luna.”

“That’s kinda dumb,” Stelle adds in, throwing a plush toy in March’s face.

It was kind of dumb. You were definitely more sun than you were moon. He didn’t quite know how he knew. It just was.

March splutters, hurling the plush dog back with vigour. Stelle returns it, hitting you instead, to which you gasp in mock offence to and somehow the three of you end up flinging pillows and plushies at each other. You laugh, bright and delighted, and he’s drawn to the curve of your neck as you throw your head back, the glitter in your half-closed eyes, and the carelessly toothy grin on your face.

He doesn’t notice March staring at him thoughtfully, cogs whirring in her head.

“You like Y/N.”

It’s a week after the pillow fight the three of you had, and it’s one of the times everyone’s gathered in the parlour, with the extra bonus of your delicious baking. Cookies, this time, buttery and vanilla and sweet.

The statement startles him from his thoughts, and he turns to see March in the seat beside him, so close their shoulders brushed. There’s steely determination in her gaze, and a triumphant little smile on her face.

“... What?”

“You like Y/N,” she repeats, and his eyes dart to where you were, conversing with Himeko and Welt a few tables down.

He didn’t quite understand what March was hinting at. Of course he liked you. Everyone liked you. He tells March as such. "Do you not like Y/N…?"

She facepalms, groaning softly.

"No! Of course I do! But you have a crush on Y/N," she explains, gesturing wildly with her hands. She beams excitedly, bouncing in her seat. "Like, you know, you wanna date and stuff. It's so cute!"

"I…" he blinks, utterly puzzled, mouth slightly parted. "No…? I don't."

The sound of your laughter draws his attention away from her for the briefest second. Snorting, March slugs his shoulder, rolling her eyes as she does. "Funny. It's so obvious! You're literally giving Y/N heart eyes right now. Even Stelle noticed."

He huffs, fixing her with a glare. "I do not have a crush on Y/N."

March sighs, a knowing smile on her face. Standing, she tousles his hair as she says, "Sure, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night!"

She flounces away, leaving him there to scowl and fix his hair. Still, he can't help but feel as if he's missing something important, like a book without its title, or the sun without its moon.

—

Screeching metal, the glint of a blade, a sickening stab and a pierce through his heart. Panic stricken, he whirled around, barely able to retaliate before he was pulled down under.

Then, there was warmth.

Dan Heng’s eyes flicker open, a hand instinctively rising to his chest. This was getting ridiculously repetitive, to be haunted by the same memory for nights on end. Still… Something felt off about it, as if there were pieces of the puzzle that had yet to make the scene. He doesn’t realise when he got to the kitchen, but he does, and the sight of you chases the worries out of his mind for now.

“Do we ever sleep?” he asks rhetorically, taking his usual seat at the aisle.

You grin, setting down two mugs in front of him. “S’pose not. I’m gonna have to take a really long nap soon, though.”

Your nails clink against the porcelain, a habit of yours he’s gotten used to, but what’s curious is the way sparks are emitting from your fingertips. He frowns, concerned, but you don’t seem to notice — or mind.

“Your hands…”

Looking down, you let out a soft ‘oh’, and wiggle them. “Eh,” you say nonchalantly, rubbing your thumb and index finger together. “Part of the package deal with my powers. They’ll go away soon.”

“It doesn’t hurt?” he questions, just to make sure.

“Nope,” you say, popping the ‘p’ ever so slightly. “But the insomnia’s a bitch.”

You’re rolling a ball of… fire(?) in your palms now, eyes golden with the reflection of it. His confusion grows by the second. Glancing up, you notice it, and you smile a little wistfully.

“When I started following the Abundance, I gained some sort of fire powers? But there’s always a catch, isn’t there? The energy kind of accumulates inside of me until I use it. When I don’t use it, this happens —” you hold up your hand to show him, summoning a wisp of a flame before snatching your palm back “— along with the insomnia. But after draining the energy, I get really sleepy and black out for a few days. It depends on how much I drain, of course.”

“And your energy hasn’t been drained since…”

“Since I joined the Express,” you finish for him. “No one’s needed healing since then, anyway. Which is a good thing.”

“Nothing in the data bank stored any information on this type of power,” he says, mostly to himself. He’d do another search later. There had to be something. “Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

“Yep! Our next station is Penacony, isn’t it? I can stop by the hospitals there or something.”

“Alright,” he replies, albeit rather dubiously.

Then your eyes gleam wickedly, and you rub your palms together in imitation of some storybook villain. “Wanna see something cool?”

And as you showcase your talent in manipulating fire, he can’t help but admire you. The minute he thought he knew all there was to know about you, you had gone and revealed something entirely fantastical about yourself.

Literal healing abilities that stemmed from pyrokineses. That explained quite a lot, actually. Sunny eyes, sunny smile, sunny demeanor. You were practically the embodiment of the sun, and this simply perfected it even further. Warm inside and out. He brings the cup of hot chocolate to his lips, taking a small sip. You could even create warmth too.

Your smile is wide and expectant as you present to him a fiery image of the Express, which morphs into Pom-Pom, then Stelle, Mr. Welt, Himeko and finally March.

Intrusively, his mind conjures up the image of March’s excited, knowing announcement. You like Y/N.

Preposterous. He didn't like you in that way. You were a good friend, and he was merely close to you. Sure, you were sweet, baked really well, funny, a great conversationalist, bubbly yet not overbearing like March herself and utterly sunny and— Oh.

Oh.

He liked you.

—

Nothing changed. Much. Realising he had a little more than platonic feelings toward you only seemed to heighten his awareness of you. Your laugh. Your eyes. Your warmth. You, in general.

Except March seemed to know too, if her shit-eating grin and horrendously concealed inneundos were any indication. You should ask them on a date, she had squealed once.

He couldn’t just ask you out. How would he even go about doing that? Any train of thought in that direction just left him feeling incredibly awkward. Being your friend was enough, he decided. Your night-time meetings. Your hot chocolate. It was more than enough.

“He almost kissed me,” Stelle wails dramatically, shaking your shoulders. “You know how shocked I was? I woke up to a random dude in my face! Never let him do CPR ever again.”

March nods along solemnly. “You can do all the first aid, right Y/N? That man doesn’t know any to save his life.”

“As if you know any more than I do,” he snipes back, faintly horrified they were telling all of this to you. He remembers that day. March and Stelle were definitely overselling it. “And it wasn’t that bad.”

“Of course not,” Stelle says dubiously, shooting him a dirty look.

You’re cackling, wiping tears out of your eyes. “No way. None of you know first aid? I can teach y’all some.”

March squeals, clapping her hands. “YES! Let’s do CPR. I volunteer Dan Heng as tribute.”

“I don’t want CPR on me again.” Stelle nods in a ‘fine by me’ gesture, humming as she does. “Dan Heng, you do it.”

“Majority wins,” you sing, grinning, and shrug at him as his gaze meets yours rather helplessly. “Get on the ground, on your back.”

March does it for him, practically shoving him on the ground. He glowers at her, to which she deftly ignores. Stelle’s only snickering from the bed. You settle down near his side, and all he can see is your back and hair as you turn to speak with the other two.

“Right, so first, you make sure there’s nothing dangerous around you, the casualty and anyone else. Then, you check whether they’re responsive or not, and for major wounds and whatnot. Call for help if you can.”

You shift him flat on his back, and kneel with one knee near his shoulder and the other at his waist. You lift up your palms and show everyone how you put one above the other, interlocking them, positioning them. He can’t quite stop the small hitch in his breath when you lean over him, hands hovering just above his chest.

“Make sure your knees are positioned like this, and your elbows are locked. The heel of your palm should be right in the middle and your middle finger should align with the nipple.”

March and Stelle both giggle at your last statement, and he wills himself not to react. He can feel you roll your eyes at them. You lean away from him then, and there's a small pang of disappointment which he wholly ignores.

You continue to explain how to count each set, and how to time them, and rattle off some songs they could follow the beat to.

He's hit with a strong, strong sense of admiration for you. He hasn't seen you out on field yet, but with the way you teach and demonstrate everything with practised ease makes him that much surer of your capabilities.

Then you turn back to him, a sheepish look on your face. “Okay, time for mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.”

Oh.

"No! Not actually!" you practically screech, with the way March and Stelle start howling and the widening of his eyes. "I'm just going to explain how it works — Stelle, shut up."

"Fine, fine," the girl in question says, voice thick with amusement.

"After you're done with the first set of CPR but the casualty still isn't breathing, you'd want to do something called a head-tilt chin-lift."

You place two fingers under his chin, literally tilting his head upward. He sincerely hopes you can't feel how shallow his breaths are.

"Then you're gonna have to pinch the casualty's nose, and well, breathe into their mouth. If their chest rises on the first breath, yay, you’re done! If not, you breathe into their mouth again, and..."

You carry on with the impromptu lesson, walking everyone through a few different scenarios. He'd be committing everything to memory if only his mind would stop flashing back to how your hands were so close—

Soon enough, the conversation changes its course, and everyone moves on except for March, whose grin is ever wider and the sparkles in her eyes like fireworks.

'Stop it,' he mouths at her.

She sticks her tongue out at him.

("Hey, we're good, right?" you ask him the next day, a faint furrow between your brows. "The CPR thing yesterday, you just seemed a little uncomfortable."

"It's alright," he says, because it really was. "It was fine."

"Okay then.")

—

Screeching metal, the glint of a blade, a sickening stab and a pierce through his heart. Panic stricken, he whirled around, barely able to retaliate before he was pulled down under.

Then, there was a gentle voice, hushed and comforting.

“You’re gonna be fine. This is no place to die.”

Dan Heng’s eyes flicker open. That dream… how odd. That was certainly something different. He raises a hand to his chest, feeling at the scar through his clothes. There was no sting, no burning sensation. It didn’t hurt, not one bit.

He stands easily, to the kitchens, by now a well rehearsed habit.

You were there, as always, somehow as it should. It brings him comfort all the same.

“Rough night?”

“Memories, is all.”

“Ah…”

Setting down a mug in front of him, you turn back to your baking, an odd deviation in routine. Sparks dance down your hands and fingers from time to time. “No hot chocolate for me today — I want to finish these cookies. Any requests?”

“Chocolate chips?” he suggests softly. “I like them.”

You chuckle. “Sure.”

He watches as you putter about the kitchen, waltzing to the rhythm in your soul. Humming again, bright and airy, that same old tune. He never did get the name of that song, did he?

“Wanna talk about it?” you ask suddenly. “About the memories? Talking with someone usually helps.”

“They’re not very happy stories,” he tells you in lieu. Would you want to hear about how he almost died? How that memory plagued his sleep? His past was a miserable, miserable tale.

“They never are, are they?” is your reply.

He chuckles humorlessly, watching the bubbly foam in his cup swirl and swirl and swirl itself into a vortex. “When I first — long before the Express, I was on an IPC ship affected by the Fragmentum, helping to clear it out. I was too inexperienced, and got myself outnumbered. I should’ve died then, but I didn’t.”

Letting out a soft, frustrated exhale, he takes a swig off his drink. “That’s where the memory ends — where I wake up. I never got to see… When I woke up, the doctors told me the person who helped me had already left.”

“What a shame,” you comment. “But c’est la vie, I guess.”

“What does that mean?” he asks curiously. He never knew you spoke another language.

“It’s a saying I got from one of the worlds I visited! It means ‘that’s life’, I think,” you say brightly.

“You know the worst thing?” he asks, and after your prompting, continues, “The only thing I have left from that day is a scar.”

You’re moulding the cookie dough into shape now, its scent wafting through the air delectably. Sighing, you turn back to look at him with a small, sad smile. “Some say scars are the tapestries left on your skin from the victories you win. That kinda applies there, right?”

“Technically it was a loss…”

“Well, you survived against all odds. That seems like a win enough.”

The fervour in your voice is… surprising. He’d never know you’d defend his honor this passionately, even if it was to himself.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I guess it does.”

The both of you fall into an easy sort of silence for the rest of the night. It was, admittedly, another thing he loved about you — how simple it was to talk to you, yet at the same time to be silent with you. Spending time with you was something he loved, point blank.

—

His new form was… jarring, to say the least. Or was it his old form? There had barely been anything to process anything when—

"Dan Heng," you breath out, hushed and hasty, eyes sweeping over his body. You're bloody and bruised, he notes, breathing hard through your nose. A gash on your cheek that's half healed, and the odd angle your wrist is in.

Your first fight, he realises. The way you held your own is no mere feat, but you weren't a fighter, you shouldn't have had to. And against people that could've killed you a thousand times over? All because of him, and his past.

Yet you're only staggering up to him, concerned etched into your every feature. He meets you there partway, resisting the urge to bring his hand to your cheek.

"Are you hurt?" you ask, a hand reaching for his chest.

Your touch is warm, familiar. It sends sparks flying down his spine and heat up his cheeks, but he wills it away. He murmurs, "I should be asking you that."

"I'll heal," you tell him nonchalantly, batting the concern away. Your other hand wipes the blood off your cheeks, revealing smooth skin where the boy had once cut. "See? Now, what about you? That guy really did a number on you…"

Your gaze stray to where his heart should be. Not even his clothes are torn.

"The last time you got stabbed, you —"

"Nearly died," he finishes. "Don't worry about me. I… The Vidyadhara are hard to kill."

You snort, smirking slightly. You glance at his horns, gaze trailing down. It felt… different from how you did earlier. "You never told me you had an even prettier form."

He feels his entire brain short-circuit right then and there.

"I… you — what?"

You laugh, teasing and delighted. He scowls, to cover his fluster, reluctantly pushing you away. "March is corrupting you."

Shrugging, you turn to Jing Yuan, who he had forgotten was there. His… old friend. At least, his past incarnation's friend. The man leads the both of you to a starskiff. It was high time you reunited with the rest, anyway.

You nudge him with your elbow. "You're keeping it, right?"

He huffs.

"That's not a no!"

"Am I dying?" Stelle rasps, staring at her blood-stained hand. She's audibly wheezing, breath shaky as she stumbles to the ground.

You're there in an instant, shooing March away, however much the girl wanted to help. Even her shields hadn't been enough for Phantylia, and one of her attacks had struck Stelle in the ribs.

From the corner of his eye, he sees Stelle clutch your hand. "I'm too young to die!"

"You're going to be fine, you hear me?" you tell her, yet he detects undertones of worry in your voice. "This is no place to die."

That statement. It sounded so… familiar.

He takes his chance in the lull during battle to glance to the sidelines. Stelle's flat on the ground, blood pooling near her waist and your knees. Hands above the gaping wound, red-hot energy spreads from your palms to her skin. That must feel warm, he finds himself thinking inadvertently.

"That tickles," she complains, evidently much better.

"At least you're not— not dead," you retort dryly, punctuated by a yawn.

"Hey, you good?"

"Just peachy."

You help her up, and Stelle takes her place beside him, already raring for another go. His gaze finds you with concern, only to receive a soft yet determined smile in reply.

"Let's finish this."

(Later, you're all on a starskiff headed toward respite.

Immediately, you slump yourself against him, dropping your head on his shoulder. You're warm, and he can feel the way your chest rises and falls with each breath. The way his heart flutters is utterly juvenile, but it does all the same.

However… the battle was over, yet your words couldn't seem to leave his mind. This is no place to die. Somehow, he knew that statement. But where was it from?

He's definitely never heard it from you. He'd know if it were, he could probably recite most conversations he's had with you by heart. And still…

He turns to you, only to find you already lightly dozing. He can't find the heart in him to wake you.)

—

Screeching metal, the glint of a blade, a sickening stab and a pierce through his heart. Panic stricken, he whirled around, barely able to retaliate before he was pulled down under.

Then, there were warm hands, soft eyes.

“This is no place to die.”

Dan Heng’s eyes flutter open. That dream again…

But how could it be? You? Had you been the one to save him? Or was he just projecting his crush on you into the memory? You would have told him if you had met him all that time ago, wouldn’t you have? He had even told you about it some nights ago…

Swiftly, he stands, resolve firm. He heads to your room, a feeling in his gut that told him that was exactly where you’d be. Honestly, if you were in the kitchens tonight, he’d drag you back to bed himself.

A faint ‘come in’ responds to his knock on your door, and he steps in carefully. Your eyes are half-mast, hair mussed from sleep, and he vaguely wonders if he should’ve saved it for the morning. Yet, the sight you make is just incredibly endearing and he can’t bring himself to regret much.

“Come sit.” You pat the spot on your bed next to you, beckoning him over. He moves almost on his body’s own accord, settling by you so naturally as if it had always meant to be.

“You know, they say ‘character is fate’,” you tell him, interrupting whatever he had been about to say. “Because even from infinite paths to choose from, your character makes it so that you wouldn’t have chosen any other way, in every lifetime and the next.”

“Does that make the two of us fated?” you continue softly, playing with the strands of his now long hair. “If I hadn’t chose to become a healer, if you hadn’t been on that ship…”

“The whole time, why didn’t you tell me that — that it was you?” he asks, gaze meeting yours searchingly.

“That day I saw you on the Express, I thought that it must’ve been fate, y’know?” you explain, smiling wistfully. “You didn’t remember me then, and I didn’t want to bring up the past since you’ve always seemed so uncomfortable about it. I told myself that it would be up to fate if you remembered or not, hah.”

Your reasoning was entirely, perfectly logical, and yet fantastical all the same. You were always one to believe in fate. Still… “I just… it had been you all along.”

You, with the hot chocolates and the sunny-like demeanor and the midnight talks. You, who traversed the universe helping others selflessly, who during your first battle were only concerned with him and his health. You, who he had so irrevocably fallen in love with.

Shit, he didn’t just like you. He loved you. Or at least, he was on the very cusp of it, at the moment just before a star was born, ready to fall, ready to let go.

“I think it’s fate,” you announce seriously. “I mean, I made chocolate chip cookies the day we met and they’re actually your favourite.”

“I only decided they were my favourite after tasting yours,’ he retorts without thinking, still faintly stunned by the revelation.

You laugh, sharp and amused and delighted. “That good?”

“The best.”

“Can I see it?” you ask suddenly, turning to him in a way your shoulders lean against his.

He swallows, instantly understanding what you were alluding to. Hesitantly, he nods, pulling up his shirt to reveal the spot where there should’ve been a scar. Your hand grazes along his skin, and he’s sure you can feel the way he shudders.

“This form doesn’t scar,” he murmurs lowly, almost apologetic. That scar had meant many things. His weakness, his survival. His past, his future.

You hum under your breath, and the way the faint starlight reflects off of your eyes should be considered ethereal. “Well, I guess it’s good you don’t. With the amount of fights you and Stelle get into…”

Glancing up at him, you meet his eyes, and you smile shyly, like the sun peeking through the clouds. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Suddenly parched, his tongue darts across his lips. Was it just him or had you always been this close? Something delicate was in the air, as if the simplest move would break it, and he couldn’t quite make a sound despite the hammering in his heart. The hand you have on his chest hasn’t moved, warm, but trembling ever so slightly. He —

“If you don’t say something I think I’m gonna kiss you,” you whisper, almost out of breath, and your eyes oh so wanting.

It’s all the confirmation he needs. He dips his head, a hand snaking around your waist as finally, your lips meet. Your hands find its way in his hair, and you’re sighing into the kiss, the smile evident on your face. He feels himself do the same.

It’s no more of a kiss than a simple brush of lips, but it’s sweet and shy and promised so much more that he feels warmth unfurl in every fibre of him. You relax against him, nuzzling your face into his neck, and he can’t help but place a kiss atop your head.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” you confess, muffled into his body.

“Surely not as long as I have…”

You laugh. “March is going to take one look at us tomorrow and scream ‘I told you so’. She’s been saying you liked me back since forever.”

Despite March’s annoying meddling, he feels a tad grateful toward her. Without her intervention, he probably would’ve taken much longer to realise his feelings toward you.

“You asked me once if I believed in fate, and I told you I didn’t. I still don’t,” he says, musing, rambling, barely putting two words before the other before he’s speaking. “But you do. So if it’s any worth, you’re my fate. Infinite paths to choose from and I’d always pick this one, if it gets me to you.”

You still, and for a moment, he thinks he’s messed up, that whatever he had said earlier was too rushed. Then, you’re hugging him, squeezing him so tightly his ribs might cave in. The smile on your face is radiant, your eyes dazzlingly bright.

“That means you’re stuck with me, y’know,” you say loftily, “Possibly forever.”

He’s sure the look on his face is absolutely, irrevocably lovesick. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I’m sure I’ll manage,” he vows. “‘Til the end of the line, and not a second less.”

#dan heng x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #danheng x reader #dan heng #honkai star rail #hsr

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