#gentle sin

[asendingtothestarsasone]

Gentle Sin

Summary: A flat mate wanted listing sends you on a journey that leads you into the arms of the sweet but protective Jake.

Pairings: Jake Kiszka x Female Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI

Oral (female receiving), Uprotected Sex, Assault, Dirty talk, Biting, Hair pulling, Mentions of Alcohol

*This is my first fanfic/smut. Thank-you so much for reading and let me know if you want a part two*

When I saw the listing, I thought it could not be more perfect. 

Two musicians were in search of a flat mate for their spacious 3-bedroom house, featuring a generous bedroom, bath, and even a hot tub on a large balcony—all for just $250 a week. Being someone dedicated to learning guitar and nurturing my singer-songwriter aspirations within the confines of my bedroom, this opportunity felt like a gateway to fully immerse myself in Nashville's vibrant music scene. 

Knocking on the door, I was met by a captivating sight—a man with long, wavy brown hair, a striking face adorned with big doe brown eyes, and an enchanting smile. As he extended his hand for a shake, I could not help but feel the warmth of his soft yet calloused fingertips. 

"Hello, I'm Y/N. I'm here for the room viewing." 

"Yes, of course. Nice to meet you. I am Jake. Come inside, and I'll show you around." 

As Jake guided me through each room, his sweet demeanor captivated me. The house had a unique decoration style, blending modern and '70s aesthetics, with framed posters on the walls and electric guitars displayed proudly. Finally, we reached a white room at the end of the hallway, featuring a large bed with beautiful linens and a fur throw. 

"So, this would be your room if you decide to take it. It's filled with sunlight, and there's this lovely old desk for you to use." 

"That would be perfect for my music writing. It's a beautiful spot." 

"Oh, you're into music too?" 

"I wish I were a musician. I do it in my bedroom, but I dream of playing in front of people. I've been learning guitar as well." 

"That's great. I play guitar in a band with my brothers. I could teach you some things if you're interested." 

"Wow, yes, that would be amazing. I will definitely take the room now. 

"Perfect. I'll message you all the details in the next few days, and once you're settled in, we can have a jam session." 

"Sounds perfect. See you soon." 

"See you soon, Y/N." 

As I carried my last box into the new place, a sense of satisfaction washed over me. Seated on my bed, I thought, 'This is going to be good for me. Change is a good thing.' After a challenging previous relationship, being on my own to focus on my dreams felt like the right step. 

Over the next few days, I unpacked and transformed my room into a cozy haven. Yet, I had not interacted much with my new flat mates, who were both away on road trips playing gigs. 

The following day, a knock on the door revealed a tall man with short black hair, an eyebrow piercing, and deep blue eyes—Nick. 

"Sorry, I couldn't find my key. You must be Y/N." 

"Yes, I am. I just moved in a few weeks ago." 

"Hi, I'm Nick. Are you from Nashville?" 

"No, I'm from a small town in Michigan called Milford. What about you?" 

A voice chimed in from behind, and I turned to see Jake entering. 

"Wait, you're from Milford?" 

"Yeah, I grew up there." 

"No way, I grew up in Frankenmuth with my brothers. That's where we started our band in our parents' garage." 

Nick laughed, "And you never really made it out of there, did you?" 

"Hahaha. Good to see you as always, Nick." 

Jake suggested, "So, you guys hungry? I was thinking we could go out for some dinner, maybe a drink or two, or three." 

"Hell yeah," Nick exclaimed. 

"I'm down," I replied. 

As our nights out continued, the dynamics between us became more apparent. One evening, after dinner and a couple of drinks, Jake opened up about his musical journey. He shared the challenges of balancing artistic integrity with the demands of the industry. It became evident that he was not only a talented musician but also someone deeply passionate about the craft. 

Meanwhile, Nick's charisma was undeniable. Over drinks, he revealed that he was the lead singer of a rock band that had gained local recognition. He spoke animatedly about the thrill of performing in front of a roaring crowd, but there was an underlying competitiveness in his tone, especially when Jake's accomplishments were brought up. 

In the following days, as Nick's band went on tour, Jake and I spent more time together in the house. Our shared love for music created a natural connection, and Jake became not just a roommate but a mentor. He patiently guided me through chord progressions, song structures, and the art of storytelling through music. It was during these moments that a deeper bond formed, one that transcended the shared space we inhabited. 

Late nights turned into early mornings filled with laughter, music, and meaningful conversations. Jake's stories of his own musical journey, the ups, the downs, and the lessons learned, resonated with my own aspirations. It was in these moments that I realized our connection was evolving into something more profound. 

However, the peaceful harmony we were creating was disrupted when Nick returned from his tour. His demeanor had shifted – he was constantly drinking, and his once-charming confidence now bordered on arrogance. Nick's attempts to impress me became increasingly apparent, and his behavior towards Jake grew confrontational. 

Tensions escalated one evening when Nick, fueled by alcohol and jealousy, made snide remarks about Jake's music, and questioned his dedication to the craft. The atmosphere in the house became tense, and it was clear that the friendly camaraderie we once shared was threatened by Nick's insecurities. 

Amidst the growing discord, Jake and I found solace in our shared passion for music. We retreated to the balcony, away from the brewing storm inside. Under the starlit Nashville sky, Jake expressed his concern about the strained atmosphere and Nick's changing behavior. As we spoke, the undeniable connection between us became palpable, and the unspoken understanding deepened. 

In the days that followed, Jake and I continued to immerse ourselves in music. He shared not only technical knowledge but also the emotional nuances that make a song resonate. Our collaboration on songwriting projects became a therapeutic outlet, a sanctuary away from the brewing tension within the house. 

As the divide between Jake and Nick grew, it became clear that Nick's feelings for me were a driving force behind the conflict. The once vibrant energy of the house was now overshadowed by the growing animosity between the two musicians, leaving me caught in the middle of an unfolding drama that threatened to disrupt the harmony we had cultivated. 

 

One night, as I stepped out of the shower and hastily threw on some clothes, I heard a commotion downstairs. Curious and concerned, I headed down the stairs, only to witness Nick and his friend barging through the door. His friend continued down the hall, while Nick stood there, demanding my attention. 

"Come down here, Y/N, I need to talk to you," he insisted. As I descended the stairs, he began making inappropriate advances, emphasizing how beautiful I was and suggesting I deserved someone better. 

Uncomfortable and distressed, I asked him to stop, but he ignored my pleas. In that unsettling moment, Jake intervened, stepping up behind me. 

"Don't touch her, Nick," Jake warned. There was a silent exchange between them, a look that conveyed an unspoken rule. However, Nick's response was aggression, pushing Jake to the brink. 

As Nick lashed out, hitting Jake, and causing blood to flow from his nose, panic set in. I screamed for Nick to stop, but it only fueled his anger. Desperation took over, and I found myself standing between them, pleading for peace. 

In a fit of rage, Nick struck me and shoved me into the wall. Jake, driven by a protective instinct, retaliated, unleashing a torrent of punches on Nick until he crumpled to the ground. Frantically, I tried to pull Jake away, begging him to stop. Locking eyes with him, I implored, "Look at me, Jake. Please, stop." 

Something in his gaze shifted, and he paused, realizing the extent of the chaos. He looked down at his bloodied hands and whispered, "Oh my God, what have I done?" 

In the aftermath, Nick's friend emerged from the bathroom, appalled by the scene. He helped Nick up and ushered him out the door. Tears streaming down my face, Jake wiped them away and we clung to each other in silence, processing the whirlwind of emotions. 

 

Finally finding words, Jake apologized sincerely, expressing disbelief that anyone would dare to harm me. We sat in quiet solidarity, grappling with the aftermath of the violent encounter. He eventually stood up, gently pulling me into his room.  

We perched on the edge of the bed, and Jake began cleaning up the remnants of the blood. Once the task was complete, he sat next to me, wiping away the tears that still streamed down my face. As he tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear, I impulsively grabbed his chin and kissed him. The warmth of the kiss provided solace after the pain that had just unfolded. 

He pulled away, a question in his eyes, "Are you sure you want to do that... now?" 

I responded with conviction, "I have never been more sure of anything." He cupped the back of my neck, and we shared a powerful kiss that felt like a healing balm for the wounds we had both endured. It was almost overwhelming, a moment of profound connection in the chaos. 

I kissed him back trying to match his fire but he pushed my back on the bed and soon he was on top if me kissing me with such intensity. He trailed kissed down my neck until I was moaning. Running his fingers through my hair I was overwhelmed with sensations. I could feel his cock getting hard against me which make me let out a moan. He pulled my shirt over my head “can I touch you?” “please” he cupped my breast and squeezed it running his fingers over my nipple while he bit into my neck. 

I was starting to get wet, then he pulled off my skirt and ran his hand over my panties “is this, okay?” “Yes, please don't stop” he pulled my panties down and started laying a trail of kisses from neck down to my pussy. Then started running circles over my clit with his tongue so slow and delicately I was losing it. 

I came hard and felt my wetness pooling. He brought two fingers up to my entrance and slowly put them inside me. The feeling of being filled up by his fingers with his tongue on my clit was too much and I came again.  

He then brought his fingers up to his mouth and licked them clean. He came back up and kissed me so sweetly "can I fuck you"  "please fuck me I want you so bad" and he pulled his boxers down and lined up with my opening. He kissed me on the lips so passionately and pushed his cock inside me. The feeling was too much. 

He immediately filled me all the way up until I could not take anymore, and I moaned with pleasure. He started kissing my neck again and biting me while fucking me hard and deep “oh Y/N you feel so fucking good” he cupped my breasts and squeezed them while trusting into me. 

Then he grabbed a handful of my hair and gave it a gentle pull and layed into me so hard it feel like heaven ”fuck I am going to come” “come for me baby” “come all over my cock” just like that I was putty in his hands I came hard digging my nails into him "good girl" fuck this man was magic.  

I have never felt like this before he whispered in my ear “fuck you feel so good I'm going to come” “please come inside me” “you want me to fill you up baby?” “Yes, I'm begging you” he came so hard inside me I could feel his cock pulsating.  

As he pulled out of me the warm liquid rushed out, he got a towel to clean me up and after I was all cleaned up, he pulled me into a cuddle and played with my hair just as I was falling asleep I heard him whisper “I want to keep you Y/N, forever” 

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka #danny wagner #sam kiszka #josh kiszka #greta van fleet fic #gvf smut #gvf fanfiction #gvf fic #jake kiskza x reader #jake kiska fic #greta van fic #greta van smut #greta van fluff #gentle sin #x reader #y/n

[itslookingback]

take me to church is still an amazing song. btw. if you wanted to know

#music #THERE IS NO SWEETER INNOCENCE THAN OUR GENTLE SIN #good Lord #hozier #take me to church #blue squawks

[spiralocean]

favorite Jerma985 tweets in no particular order (3/?)

#i like to call this on 'seven deadly sins' edition #we got pride and envy in the tall men photoshop request #we got greed in the loot boxes one #lust with the tinder and ursla tweets #gluttony with like half of them #wrath in the gentle frisbee ps3 one #and finally sloth with the pants around ankles tweet #the outlier is the dearth vader one which is just unhinged #sorry bout the typos im not starting over lmao #jerma #jerma985

[benkeibear]

Thinking about fearplay with true form Sukuna...

How he's hunting you down, acting like you barely got away just to give you a sliver of hope to escape, but right before you get to taste sweet freedom he catches you and makes sure you won't be running away again any time soon.

Your squeal of fear almost drowned out the smallest giggle that escaped your lips when he tripped you onto the ground and the way your pupils dilate and your heart beats faster makes him want to break you even more, mold you to fit him perfectly...

#Rhy sins ♡ #tw fearplay #true form sukuna #Sukuna smut #the aftercare would be divine too #the gentle side of him after engaging in things like this just hits different #I really need to work on this wip #someone scream at me to write it please

[didderd]

erm. erm. th urge to draw this may or may not hav kept me awake 👀

(vry mild suggestive)

i do not simp many swaps but...

#he jus blushing n sticking out his tounge. nothing sus here :3 #hav som mor innocent doodles i was working on of him earlier today #but i was laying in bed n thinking abt him n this image.. along with. several others. came to mind #n i had to at least draw this befor i could sleep #i love himb ur honor #mildly suggestive #tou sans #swap tourette's sans #undertale #undertale au #didderd art #didderd sins #he is. a vry gentle. n soft lover. for th most part. n somtimes u need a soft boy in ur life #n somtimes that soft boy is also a buff. twitchy skelemans #that could crush ur spine if he wanted but doesn't bc he's SOFT

[canisalbus]

have you heard the acoustic version of be by hozier? i was just listening to it and thinking about your dogs and it completely destroyed me. maybe i'm just in my feels but it sounds so tender contrasted to the original version. they're like two halves of a whole; soft and tender—loud and intense. i haven't been able to listen to hozier the same after you mentioned that you imagine vasco's voice sounds similar to his, and that his music reminds you of them. sorry for rambling your boys make my brain do a happy dance and my friends are growing tired of hearing all about it lol

.

#oughh oh no #no I had't heard it yet thank you for the recommendation #the acoustic version sounds so gentle and drowsy and a little melancholic it's hitting in a whole different way #even though it's missing a lot of the original's killer lyrics #like “be like the love that discovered the sin - that freed the first man and will do so again” #“be that hopeful feeling when Eden was lost - it's been deaf to our laughter since the master was crossed” #I'm really flattered to hear listening to Hozier makes you think of my dog boys! truly feels like an honor I admire him and his work a lot #answered #anonymous

[tabernacleheart]

Sinners are more severe to sinners than good men are; when a man’s own conscience is lashing him, he will assume a sterner aspect towards the same, or any other sin, in another person. The holier a person grows, the more tender and the more sympathetic he is with [sinners. Like] Christ, [his] desire all along [is] to bring [the sinner] into a state of salvation. [For] as a necessary step to salvation, [Christ] desired to convince [us] all of sin, [but] to save [each man's] soul was evidently our Lord's one thought.

Rev. James Vaughan

#Rev. James Vaughan #Mercy #Sin #forgiveness #Imitate Christ #humility #holiness #Gentleness #Hope #every saint has a past and every sinner has a future #do unto others as you would have then do unto you #love your enemies

[psych3-delic]

"Take me to church" is such a SebaCiel song

#I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies #No masters or kings when the ritual begins #There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin #SebasCiel #sebaciel #kuroshitsuji #black butler

[joseppeli]

late afternoon devotionals

#there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin #jjba #caejose #joseph joestar #nsft #caesar zeppeli #it's been 84 years since i've drawn anything and of course it's always them #wait you can edit tags now instead of deleting and starting over???????? #and apostrophes are allowed now??????

[starryscale-art]

jai may have been saved from the Light before it could fully turn him ....but his ever faithful morpho wasn't as lucky :c

#ffxiv #ffxiv oc #miqo'te #xaela #au ra #seeker of the sun #sin eater #morpho #oc #art #artists on tumblr #jhai kagon #jai kagon #forgiven naivety #the kindest most gentle of sin eaters #..and the tiniest too :c

[wanderingpages]

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾Gentle Sins AU☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

“Are you going to help me take my clothes off too?” I meant it to sound teasing – I wanted to show him I could play his game too – but I was breathless, I was buzzing with anticipation.

“You know it wouldn’t end there, Jude,” he gave me a wry look. “It's a shame,” he rose and ruffled my hair, “It's a shame you’re my sister,” he murmured, needlessly reminding me. “Because that was some damn fine pussy, baby.”

TFOTA // All Human // AU : Jude and Cardan do things step-siblings shouldn't do.

Trigger Warnings: Crude language, Allusions to Drugs/Alcohol, Debauching Catholicism/Religious Metaphors, Taboo Sex.

Shoutout @headcannonxgalore for holding down the set ❤️

Jude's POV

Cardan is never home – at least not when I am, which is usually always. As far as I knew, he stayed with his dad, went on long vacations, and otherwise only met up with his mom once in a while. So, it irks me a little when I see him waiting for me after my last final, asking, “Are you ready to head home?” Home – as in my home.  

He waits for me to pack and say goodbye to my friends, then leads me to his car, and holds the door open for me. “You’re staying with us?” I ask a few minutes into the drive, finding whatever was on the radio to be a little annoying and dull. I open the glove compartment, nosily, sifting through the pack of wipes and snackbars, and pull out a thin worn out book. It’s mostly a discolored yellow, with red writing, in french, La Chute – The Fall by Albert Camus. I flip through the pages, surprised to see dog ears and sticky notes throughout. 

“My father isn’t in the country, and why be alone, when I can be with my favorite sister?” His eyes are on the road but his wry smile is directed at me when I glance up at him. He reaches over and takes the book from me, tossing it to the back of the car. “You don't need existentialism now, Jude.”

I grimace; it’s not as if I could read French anyways, though it is surprising that Cardan has that copy in its original language. “Is it your favorite?” I ask. I wiggle my brows, “Do you think you, too, have fallen from grace?”

His smile is Cheshire in response, “Since the day I met you, little sister.” I cross my eyes upwards. 

I scrunch my nose,“You can be so….” I trail off, wanting to say infuriating or annoying, but I didn't really need to, he already guesses it. 

He responds, “Likewise.” He must sense the incredulous look I give him because he checks me, “You could have said no. To the drive home,” he says, for instance. “Me, in your dorm,” he begins to list, making me feel incredibly self aware. “Walking you home from the party – being in the same room as me at that party, actually. Ghost would have found someplace else if you asked. Even prior to that,” Cardan tells me, “You could have told me no at the reception. But you didn't. We have these cute little trysts for a few hours and then you pretend it’s never happened. I guess you’re kind of like your dad, in that way.” He says the last bit quietly, but I frown all the same. Before I can ask him what he means, he admits, “It’s okay, I’m like my dad too, for even putting up with it. I guess I like being strung along.”

“Cardan…”

“I like stringing you along, too. It's fun to see who’d last the longest. It’s fun to see how far this would go. Do I get to drag you to hell with me, little sister?”  I should be bothered by Cardan’s words, but he’s not wrong. His introspection makes the car feel stuffy, so I roll down the window and let the air rush in. He grins and turns the dial on the stereo louder, singing along softly to the lyrics as if they are proving his point. “And you'll find yourself praying up to Heaven above, but honestly I never had much sympathy 'cause those bad things, I always saw them coming for me…I'm gonna run, run away, run, run away, run away…” Bad Things by Cults – it is a jarring song; calm and disruptive, a lot like how it feels being in this small space with him. My pointer finger grazes the knuckle of my thumb absently. I rest my head back, listening to his voice. 

“You’re kind of a dick,” I finally tell him. Of course he knows this, but saying it out loud made me feel less lousy about how he’s painted me.

“I must have gotten it from Mom.” I frown at that, finding it to seem untrue. The more time I spend with Cardan, the more my view on my stepmother starts to shift

I hesitate to ask about his dad, to go back to the reason he’s driving me home – Asha’s first husband. Did Asha string him along? Is that what Cardan was getting at? Is she doing the same to my father and I? Is my father aware? “Why didn’t you…” I trail off when I realize it really isn’t  any of my business, but still, he prompts me to continue. “I mean, I guess, why didn’t you spend more time with Asha? Did she not have shared custody of you or something?”

His eyebrows shoot up, and I turn in my seat to look at him, waiting to see if he’d tell me to fuck off or not. What he says instead, throws me off, “Asha was deemed unfit to parent.” I blink hard at this, in disbelief. If he notices, he doesn't say anything about it. Instead, he shifts the conversation to me; asks about my mom.

“She… I don’t know,” I admit, probably for the first time in my life. “She left me – us, Dad and I, when I was five. I don’t know where she is. I think she’s started a new family somewhere else.” I face forward and rest my elbow on the door handle, absently nipping at my thumb. As an afterthought, I say, “Maybe she’s dead.” he hums out a response, but he has no clue of the spiral he’s sent me on. Or maybe he does, and that's why when we stop for gas at the next rest stop, he tosses me a first aid kit. He waits until I put the antiseptic cream on and wrap thin gauze around my knuckles. My cheeks heat; he had noticed when my fingers started to bleed. In truth, Cardan doesn't really even need gas, so I say thank you and give him a bright smile when I’m done. 

He tilts his head and reaches for my hair, brushing it back behind my ears. He looks like he wants to say something but thinks better of it at the last moment and instead asks if I’m hungry. “There’s a diner a few miles ahead.” biding more time with him, I nod my head and let him pay for a meal. 

The diner is cozy, but I’m not in the mood for a big meal, so I settle for a slice of cherry pie. We are at the darkest corner of the diner, and while it feels pretty private, I’m still keenly aware of the scatter of guests coming and going. Because of where we are seated, it takes some time for the waitress to notice, then even more time for our food and drinks to arrive. We are mostly forgotten here in this pocket of the diner. I don’t think I mind much, though.

I steer the conversation to less heavy and more neutral topics. I ask about the frat house and why he’s not actually a part of it. When he tells me his dad donates a hefty sum of money to the college, that surprises me. I guess, there really is a lot about him I had no idea of. “I'm an honorary member,” he shrugs, “It’s kind of hard not to be when Daddy funds their lifestyle.” I crack a smile because Cardan can be dorky sometimes. I ask about his relationships with the other members, I suppose wanting to know more about his stance on Ghost, really. If he would have been okay with anybody creeping into his room with me that night. “Ghost is my best friend. It would have been a fight had it been Locke or anyone else,” he divulges, and though I shouldn't be startled by his honesty, it still makes me feel a little too warm. Then he admits, maybe selfishly considering his track record for the past few weeks, “If he had gone further, I would have buried him.”

My eyes get wide and when I say, “That's not fair,” it comes out in a whisper.

“I know.” 

Cardan had ordered a burger, so when it finally arrives, he pushes the platter more to the center of the table and tells me to eat some of his fries; he halfheartedly jokes that I'd probably get sick if I only eat sugar for lunch. I take a few to appease him, nibbling them almost thoughtfully. “That's a visceral reaction,” I come to terms with. “Your best friend?” I blush when I remind him quietly, “you’re the one who told me to open my mouth.”

“I rather his load in your mouth than on your body or in your cunt,” he says graphically. I cough in shock but he’s not bothered. “Plus, I think you look cute with a dick in your mouth.”

I scowl at him after reaching for a sip of soda. “What makes you think you have any right over my body?”

“I know I don't.” He picks at a fry, “I told you, baby, you could have said no.” I’m taken aback but I should know by now, my step brother is anything but a liar. I ponder his admittance of jealousy, but also his acceptance that he really had no say - only what I let him have say over, and I realize, I let him have say over a lot. “You could have ignored me and hopped on his dick. Maybe it would have been a blow to my ego, but then I probably wouldn't be in this diner right now with you.” He always says so much while saying so little, doesn't he? “Anyways, if you decide to tell me to fuck off and pursue Ghost instead, you should walk around with condoms, because I know he doesn’t.” It’s so offhanded that I don't even really process it as anything more than banter. 

“I’m on birth control,” I tell him indignantly, willfully ignoring all else that was said. “I don't want to be with Ghost, anyways.” I let him take that as he may and I dig into my pie as if to end the conversation there. I want to let him know I don’t want to be with him either, but that would be lying and despite myself, I just couldn’t tell Cardan to fuck off.  After a while, I notice him staring. “Do you want some of my pie,” I offer.

“Is that a euphemism?”

I shift my head to the side as if I’m actually thinking about it. My feet finds his under the table, and with my legs crossed, I have enough leverage to use my ankle to softly graze up his leg. “Do you want it to be?”

He catches hold of my ankle, uncrossing my legs to place my foot on his thigh. I lean back in the booth a little awkwardly, and lick at my cherry coated spoon. “What's the pipeline between mommy issues and wanting to bend your sister over the bathroom sink?” Cardan muses.

“Stepsister,” I tell him. I wiggle my foot in his grip. I have on snow boots and leggings, not at all looking as sexy as I feel right now. 

He shrugs and with his free hand, reaches across the table and dips two fingers into the center of the slice. “It makes no difference to me, Jude. Sister or not, I’d want you the same way I wanted you then, the same way I want you now.”  I watch as he pulls them out slowly, completely coating his fingers with the sticky sweet maroon. I follow his fingers to where he hovers them in front of his mouth then sticks his tongue out and flattens it against his digits, tasting the honeyed tart. I shiver and twist in my seat, eyes slowly drifting up to find his dark ones already piercing into my soul. 

“And…” my words come out breathy against my will. “How do you want me, now?” I play with fire to condition myself. Hell is hot, I’ve heard, and maybe Cardan does get to drag me there with him.

“I want you to copy me,” he says, huskily, startling me, my eyes growing wide. “I want you to stick your fingers in your panties and do what I do.”

My breathing gets erratic in mere seconds. I look around the near empty diner, like if I’m actually contemplating it. “You’re crazy,” I whisper. His eyes are teasing, daring me to say no to him, proving his point all over again when I don’t.

Cardan grins, “Take your jacket off, put it on over your lap. Don’t worry, baby sister, it’ll be our little secret.” His teeth scrape the tip of his fingers. I’m crazy, too, I think, as I do exactly what he asks. “I bet it’s already wet,” he leans over the table, talking quietly. I slip my hand beneath the elastic material of my leggings then under the cotton of my panties, glancing to see if anyone had caught on. Cardan catches my chin, fingerprinting it red and turning me to face him. “Is it?”

“Yes,” I whisper, embarrassed, but not enough to stop. “Soaking.”

“Good girl. Now watch,” he instructs, leaning back. He guides my leg to the side of him, spreading my thighs wider. He takes his cherried fingers and separates them into a V Shape. The tip of his tongue traces the inner part, slowly. I swallow thickly, shaking as I let my fingers follow along, circling the outside of my pussy, mirroring his movements. 

My leg beside him starts to tremble, but with his free hand, he holds me still, caressing me soothingly. He tongues the crook of his fingers and I hesitate before I begin rubbing my clit with matching vigor. My eyes flutter, and I try to hold in an embarrassing noise as my head falls back against the cushioned seat. My eyes are still trying to focus on him, matching the pressure, matching the rhythm, though struggling to even stay at half mast.  I bite my lower lip when he presses his fingers together and strokes between them wetly. He licks his own lips then asks, “How do you feel?”

“Good,” I mumble. Scared – “Nervous,” I admit, looking at him with blown out eyes and heat erupting all over my body. My fingers shake, but the shallow caresses make me shamefully wet. “Cardan,” I silently plead, my chest moving up and down sporadically, my stomach tightening, muscles contorting. “Come here,” I beg.

Without a word, Cardan complies, getting up from his seat to sit right next to me. I pivot slightly, leaning sideways into the booth. He strokes my hair back soothingly, and traces my lips with his still stained fingers. My lips part, just a taste of the cherries slipping through. I moan quietly and he says, “Don’t stop, okay, Jude?” I nod my head as much as I can with the way he holds me. He paints my lips methodically, over and over, and I find my fingers mirroring him between my legs. He watches, fixated on the way my mouth parts and moves, gasping and widening for his fingers to slip through. “I think…I want to do to you what Spring does to cherry trees,” he murmurs. “Open you up…watch you bloom.” 

My eyes screw shut tightly. His fingers probe my mouth, pressing down on my tongue. My fingers slide in too, entering with a slow pressure. He strokes inside my mouth and when he tells me to suck it clean, my stomach knots in response. I do; I suck until there is no trace of cherry left, no red stains or residue, and I finger myself in tandem. He pulls out of my mouth, a trail of spit losing connection when he finds his way under the jacket, following my hand, and adding his finger to my two. I whimper at his intrusion, and think, disoriented, three. Three fingers. 

He licks up my chin before he kisses me, letting me taste the forgotten smudge he’d left on me, while he slowly works both our digits inside of me the way he wants. I hold on to his sweater with my free hand, fingers gripping tightly as my toes begin to curl. My painfully quiet whines are being swallowed by him greedily. 

I yank him closer to me when the waitress comes by. I forget to breathe when she makes a squeak and with horror, my eyes flit to her blushing cheeks. She smiles bashfully, “Oh don’t mind me,” she says, not at all realizing what is happening under the table, “Here’s the bill, you love birds,” she giggled. God, we must look like teenagers making out back here.

Cardan pulls away only slightly, fingers replacing my frozen ones gently pushing them away, and sliding his two fingers deeper into me. My head falls forward, hiding my face in his sweater when he curves them just right. “Sorry,” He tells the waitress, holding my gaze. “I just missed her so much,” he lies. “Missed her in my arms,” he murmurs.

“Oh hush, don't be sorry,” the waitress says almost fondly and I feel only partially sick over it. She sounds further away, “I was young once too.” 

“Missed her pretty face when I made her come,” Cardan continues, speaking to me alone, lips touching mine every so often. He pumps me faster and I take a chunk of his sweater into my mouth, biting down on it so hard my jaw hurts. “Missed the way she felt when her pussy gripped my fingers.” I feel like I’m on the brink of death, gasping for breath, eyes starting to gloss. He holds my head back, making sure I’m in view of him. My ears feel like I’m underwater; everything is static except for Cardan and his words. For a moment, I forget where I am. He swallows my screams when I can't hold back, rubbing his fingers roughly, forcing my body to twitch against his. I bite down on his lips so hard but he takes it in stride, until I’m slumped against him, feeling absolutely weightless. He pulls away from me to kiss my forehead too softly for the utter seismic orgasm he’d just given me. When I lean back, Cardan looks as flushed as I feel. For once, his cheeks are the ones that are red and his forehead is glistening with sweat. His eyes are dazed, his lips swollen and red. 

“I… Are you okay?” I asked almost in a slur. I trace his cheek up to his ear, flicking the cross earring dangling from the first piercing. His dark eyes pierce mine when he brings his still wet fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean.

He smiles languidly, reaching in his pocket for a few bills I know is far over the actual amount necessary. He gets up first and leads me out of the booth. I use my jacket to cover myself up, and in a muddle, we walk out of the diner, hand in hand. 

He kisses me sweetly when we get to his car, and I kiss him back, because we can, for right now. He opens his trunk and I dig out the first pair of necessary clothing I find in my overnight bag and then he opens the door to the backseat for me, standing lookout as I awkwardly try to change.

“Cardan?” I ask when we’re on the road again. “Are you okay?” he’d been silent since I asked the first time back at the diner, I realize belatedly.

His smile is lazy and maybe even disoriented. “I don’t even like cherries,” he finally mumbles. 

I glance at his fingers instinctively, like I can still see the filling there. “Is it…is it out of your system?”

His brows furrow almost comically. “Cherries?”

“Me,” I tell him. When he doesn't answer, I explain, “We can't do this at home, Cardan… our parents…” he snorts at that, but never really gives me an answer.

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Masterlist

Gentle Sins Masterlist

#Gentle Sins AU #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #jude x cardan #jurdan #jurdan smut #jurdan fanfic #tfota #the folk of the air #tfota fanfic #tcp #the cruel prince #twk #the wicked king #tqon #the queen of nothing #tfota au #jurdan au #step siblings au #fanfic #smut

[lesmiserablol]

there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin there is no sweeter innocen

#hey uhhh did you guys know that. there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin #ONLY THEN. I AM HUMAN. ONLY THEN. I AM CLEAN. #hozier

[cloudabserk]

in the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene, only then i am human, only then i am clean

(lyrics from take me to church by hozier ofc)

#art #gay #lgbt #hozier #there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin… that line stood out to me even as a kid

[compacflt]

COMPACFLT, ma’am, you’ve absolutely wrecked me with: “My father—my father was kind”. I can’t even tell you exactly why, but that just struck right in the chest with the force of a sledgehammer, gosh. If it’s alright with you, could you please share your headcanons about Ice and Mav’s fathers? I know I’m, like, quoting your own work back to you but I can’t help it: “Well, dead pilot dads, that’s one thing we have in common.” —But do they? Or is one dead pilot dad vastly different from the other?

ice’s dad (Thomas kazansky sr.): asshole army major OH-6 and UH-1 pilot who got shot down over Vietnam in 1967. son of far-eastern-european immigrants. anti-commie. wanted ice to ALSO be a chopper pilot in the army, so ice went navy instead. daredevil dipshit who died & left ice’s mom alone with two young kids & whose death encouraged ice away from breaking the rules or being unsafe (esp. in the air). not necessarily a great person or a great father but died when ice was 8 so also not a huge influence on his life (i know val kilmer has said ice’s father was a big influence… I’ve written elsewhere about why i personally shifted ice’s narrative away from daddy issues and more towards Navy authority in general issues, in light of ice’s character and rank in tgm. GOD i need a master post sorry, but i think you can find it if you search “edts notes” on my blog and scroll for a while). ice’s LACK of a father -> no man to model himself on -> overcompensating & not getting it exactly right (doesn’t know how to talk to other men) -> maverick immediately clocks him as gay -> the plot of my fic.

Maverick’s dad (peter “duke” mitchell sr.): a genuinely awesome person. funny & kind, warm & loving, a truly good father & a great fighter pilot. big american patriot. Comes from a long long line of us navy personnel—maverick has the navy family name & the pedigree ice, as a second generation american, does not. Im still not sure who raised maverick—it’s one of those things I don’t have a strong opinion on, so it could go either way (i posited in the airplane one-shot that he was raised by relatives, aunt & uncle, but I know it’s a popular hc here that he was a foster kid—all equally plausible to me) but I do think he grew up exceedingly bitter, hearing about how great his dad was and how there was just no way! his dad could’ve failed the Navy the way he supposedly did, because he was just such a good person… there’s a real bitterness about original maverick that TGM maverick kind of lost. His bitterness only shows during the “it’s not the plane it’s the pilot” “EXACTLY” exchange (incidentally the scene that gave me the idea that Bradley thinks mav pulled his papers bc he’s openly gay…it’s the pilot not the plane, ouch). but i still think maverick is like deeply deeply bitter about how the navy handled his fathers death, which is what the excerpt i posted on wednesday is actually about—he confesses to ice how disillusioned he has been with the navy as an institution since he found out the truth about his father’s heroism. I know i just just just said that Maverick’s patriotic conservatism is his reason for existence in the meta “why we make mil propaganda movies” sense, and i stand by that, but i think on a human character level there probably has to be a little bit of deep-seated resentment towards the Navy for smearing his father’s good name and his own good name in the process. My maverick grew up a good Christian kid, called himself peter jr. after his good guy father, who never broke ANY rules until he was radicalized by not getting into the academy (“punish the son for the sins of his father”) and basically lost his mind for 30+ years. “If my family name automatically makes me a sinner in the navy’s eyes, then I might as well sin anyway.”

#i really don’t like Maverick’s character in tgm #which has been dulled down and his original motivation forgotten (upset at not getting into the USNA) #for the sake of…. pulling his OWN son’s papers from the USNA??? #to serve the mil propaganda movie aim of recruitment as ive written about elsewhere on this blog #i tried to rectify this in my fics but it also meant that my exTREMELY bitter maverick is at odds with #the gentle soft-spoken slightly neutered maverick TGM actually presents us with #🤷🏽‍♀️ imo the bigger narrative evil is making maverick pull Bradley’s papers (punish the son for the sins of his father) so that was my main #fix-it priority. #mav’s bitterness is a side-effect of Bradley’s papers getting pulled anyway #yes to some extent they all have daddy issues #but i think it’s more complicated than that #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #top gun #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #and also yeah i know it’s cool to make ice like representative of navy lineage but #imo theres a reason they gave him a Russian name in the 1980s. like.. he’s the semi antagonist #It’s overt Cold War propaganda. he is Soviet-coded. hes meant to invoke anti-american sentiment. #so personally I shifted ice away from navy lineage… he’s from an immigrant family he has a lot to prove and a lot standing in his way #ive written about icemav & religion but if i haven’t made it clear: the Navy is their religion.

[kitmoas]

Lamb to Slaughter

Summary: You can't get the voices in your head to shut up, and you refuse to ask a certain group of people for help.

Pairing: Kate x Reader, Wanda x Reader, WandaNat, Kate x Yelena (mentioned)

Genre: I never know what to call it when the smut isn't the main genre lol, but there is smut :)

Word Count: 8.1k

Warnings: Dark Fic (involving blood, illegal acts, murder, etc), semi-public sex, weapon use, degradation, strap-on, Mommy/Daddy kink, if you squint a bit of stomach bulge, lots of intrusive thoughts

*As per usual, let me know if I missed anything important*

A/N: We won't talk about how I haven't updated this since like...March.. BUT I'm very excited to put out the next installment! We get to see a little bit more of the personalities of the group here, and we finally get to see some progression with Wanda and Kate with Wipsy.

Gentle Sin Master List

The loud clattering of dirty plates and people talking cut the slightly awkward silence between you and the boy sitting in front of you. For the past few days he had been showing up around campus, awkwardly asking if you wanted to hang out. It usually only took a few minutes for the two of you to relax and have fun, but for some reason he seems different today. You can visibly see the tenseness, even after you guys ate an entire lunch, and you can see the subtle beads of sweat pooling around his collar and hair line. 

You watch as he scrapes the last bite of chocolate ice cream, but his eyes are flickering towards you every few seconds. “Okay Peter, what’s going on? What crazy thing is happening?” Reaching towards your own cup of cookies and cream, you just barely avoid the boy’s hand shooting out towards you. A look of inquietude spreads across your face as your entire body shifts into fight mode, suddenly aware of every single exit and person in the room. “What the fuck? Did Bishop finally get to you?” Your hand is already hovering over the concealed blade on your thigh, ready to leave as soon as he makes another move. 

The anger in his eyes is quick, intense but fleeting, as he shoves the heels of his hands against his forehead. “No, I- Fuck.” He abruptly stands up, his chair clatters to the floor as the entire room turns to look at him. You’re on him before he can panic, a tight grip around his arm and both bags in your open hand as you drag the two of you out onto the quad. The moment you release him Peter is ripping his suit jacket off and he throws it up into the air, a shout ripping from his throat as he rubs his eyes aggressively. 

You easily catch the garment as it floats down, and you just stand there silently as you wait for the freak out to stop. A few people look over at you curiously, but most people give you a sympathetic look; probably thinking that he failed an important presentation. It takes a few minutes but he’s finally slumped on the ground, chest heaving as he stares blankly at the grass. Swinging your foot out, you gently nudge his foot, making sure he doesn’t attack you. “So, you want to tell me what that was about or are we going to play a guessing game?” You try your hardest to be understanding, the boy has been nothing but good to you, but this nice thing was never your forte. 

He shrugs as his blank stare shifts to you, and you notice his muscles twitching constantly. It’s subtle but it’s almost like his body is vibrating. “I should go, I have already been an embarrassment enough for the day. We shall reconvene another time?” He shakily stands on his feet, using the tree trunk behind him to steady himself as he reaches out to take his suit jacket. “Yelena wants to meet with you soon, so be on the lookout for her.” He’s walking past you now, swiftly grabbing his briefcase that was tossed on the grass. 

Watching as he walks into the distance, you’re aware of eyes on you but you can’t quite place them. You’ve been aware of eyes on you every day, all throughout the night, but you never can find them. The tension in your stomach makes you want to shoot every person who looks at you, get rid of the feeling, but instead you swing your backpack onto your shoulder and stalk off towards your apartment. 

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

Kate goes flying backwards, sliding to a stop as she snaps her head up to look at Peter. A manic smile spread across her face. “C’mon little boy, is that all you got?” The deranged laughter drips from her lips, piercing the ears of everyone in the room. “Again Spidey Baby with some bite this time.” 

The two clash violently, Peter’s first attempt not landing at all as he’s kicked directly in the mouth. He stumbles back, his eyes black as he glares at the cackling woman. Spitting out the blood pooling in his mouth, he scales the walls before wrapping his legs around Kate’s neck and flipping her. His hand wraps around her throat, squeezing tighter the louder her laughter gets. “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!” 

He’s getting sloppy now, slamming her head into the ground over and over. Kate uses that to her advantage, slipping an arrowhead off her waistband and stabbing him in between the ribs. Before the two can get any farther, mists of magic slam them both apart as the door opens, “If you two are done, we have things we need to discuss.” The two slide into their chairs, taking towels from the henchmen flanking their positions. “I see the new serum is taking well to our young Peter, yes?” Wanda reaches over, taking the towel from the boy’s hands. Shushing him she begins to blot the blood dripping down his torso, sighing as scans the rest of his body. 

Kate sighs as she rubs at the blood dripping down the back of her neck, pushing the hand of a henchman away as he tries to help. “He’s stronger, faster, and he’s not bleeding out right now so I would say he’s looking better already.” Pulling out a tablet, she’s typing quickly before she swipes so that her screen is projected in the middle of the room. “The annoying scientists believe that we need another dose soon. I get to go first, so yippee for me. Other than that my workers at BS&T have moved over three hundred more subjects to Andorra, though with our recent fascination that number suffered some.” Ocean blue eyes flash for a moment at the thought of you, of her Wipsy, and she shrugs at the loss of money. You are worth it. 

Wanda grunts angrily, as she stands, pacing around the projection. “Good, now we not only have to tell Natasha that this little shadow is causing us trouble but also losing us money.” The boss’s jaw is clenched tightly, eyes flashing red as she tries her hardest to keep her anger under control. 

Perking up, the young archer leans forward. “Trouble? What kind of trouble are they causing?” She’s bouncing in her seat slightly, a complete give away to how excited she is to hear about her little whisper losing control. 

Peter chuckles as he stands, patting his newly healed stab wound. He picks up Kate’s blood soaked discarded towel, handing them to the henchman near the door. “You won’t be happy about who your Whisper gave trouble to.” He’s walking out the door, whistling happily as a few workers stumble to follow him. 

Kate’s head whips around to look at Wanda who is now leaning against a pillar, smirking at the younger girl. The redhead raises an eyebrow at her, waiting for her outburst. “What did they do?” 

The witch just rolls her eyes, lazily pointing towards the door. “I know your whole dumb innocent girl trick works for some, but your intelligence rivals the best of the best. Go find your little girlfriend.” Low chuckles break up her sentence as she watches the archer run out of the room, pushing one of their new workers when he tries to help her. “Call a meeting with Romanoff, and prepare two lunches. One for us and one for the rest of the house to share away from the garden.” An exhausted sigh leaves her lips as she watches the workers scramble to go do what was asked, sliding down the pillar and wrapping her arms around her legs.  --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The wings that you were carrying were making your mouth water, the spice tickling at your nose, but you were still over five blocks from your apartment. You try not to flinch when the blonde steps up next to you, immediately falling into step with you. The silence is loud as you two dodge the rushing people around you. Only when you turn onto your block do you finally stop, watching as she takes a few steps ahead of you. “So, what? You want to have dinner or something with me? Usually people ask, maybe go out to a nice restaurant. They at the very least don’t dress like an extra in a gym commercial.” You’re chuckling to yourself, leaning against the red brick building you stopped by. 

The blonde was on you before you could really react, just your free hand landing on your blade concealed on your thigh. “Here I thought you were quieter than Bubbles, but you are just as annoying as she happens to be. Pretty though, I can see the appeal she has for you.” Her dark eyes flit down to where your hand shakes, snorting as she stares expectedly at you. “What? You are going to try to stab me? Who would share their french fries with you?” She backs away, a taunting smile spread across her face as she turns around and starts up the stairs to your building. 

By the time you finally catch up to her, your door is left wide open. Yelena is leaning against your table, eating fries out of a takeout box. She’s watching you, almost like prey, as you shut the door. It doesn’t make a sound, regardless of the anger behind the force. “What is it with you people and leaving the damn door open? Do you have no manners? Did your mother not raise you right?” The snippy tone is like nails down a chalkboard, and you don’t have the patience to be kind right now. You wanted to sit alone in your room and eat your food, but these people can’t take no for an answer. 

You’re pulling the box of wings out of the bag, grabbing a glass for a drink, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. Dramatically sighing you spin around to come face to face with the older woman, her nose almost touching yours. Her eyes are bright as she stares at you, a smirk making her face look sharp. “If I kissed you, would you finally shut your obnoxious mouth?” She watches your eyes widen, her own hooded and darkening with each second. Her tongue flicks out, running slowly across her bottom lip, her smirk turning devious. 

You know your eyes are stuck on the action, and the shine it leaves there afterwards, but you can’t help but stare. “Now be a good girl and give me what I want.” Her voice is low, dark and eerily calm. The confusion must be evident on your face because she’s rolling her eyes, annoyance dripping from her. Her eyes drag down your body, making you hyper aware of yourself, before she looks up at you through her lashes. “I want you, little shadow. You will be ours. You will join us. It is inevitable.” Her voice is rough, accent heavy, and it makes you shiver. 

For a moment you can’t breathe and you aren’t quite sure why, the blonde in front of you is pretty of course but she wasn’t someone who had been showing up in your dreams lately. Her proximity made you squirm and you couldn’t separate your thoughts. You wanted to lean forward and kiss her, get the upper hand, but at the same time you also wanted to let the low boiling anger outwin everything else. When she chuckles, mocking and dry, at your silence your mind is made up for you. You’re spitting at her, a manic smile forming on your face at her disgusted shriek, before whipping out a shiny dagger. She’s wiping her face when you lunge towards her, the blade just barely missing her. Her movements are quick, a blur that you can’t track as she slams you onto your back with a bored expression on her face. She’s dangling your blade in front of your face, laughing. “Really, you are proving to be much more trouble than you must be worth. You will stop fighting those pretty voices in your head one day, shadow. Sooner rather than later would be in best interest of you.” 

She’s standing now, twirling the dagger as she brushes off non-existent dirt from her clothes. The blonde is walking away when you hear a snap. You roll onto your stomach, watching as she drops your blade without even looking back. Leaving the door open, and the two pieces on the floor, as she disappears into the night. 

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

Clicking of heels gets Natasha's attention, head snapping up as she watches Wanda walk towards her. Her gaze drifts towards the multiple workers carrying food behind her, “How romantic of you to ask a measly worker to request me to the garden for lunch.” She’s teasing, but the smile on her face says otherwise. 

Wanda smiles at her, the tension that has been running high in her body seemingly easing as she comes to stand in front of her widow. Playing with the tips of her braid, relishing in the moment of calm with birds singing in the background. “Would you like the business before or after you get to eat your sandwich?” The witch slowly sits down across from the older woman, rolling her eyes when she notices she’s straightening up and pulling out her tablet. “Business first, got it.” She snaps her fingers, waving towards the glasses for a worker to serve the wine. “Everything is going fine with Kate’s serum, she isn’t having too many side effects. Besides the ones we already knew of, and it looks like Peter isn’t having any side effects yet; at least none worth mentioning.” 

Natasha is staring directly at the younger woman, irritation evident on her face. “Wanda, you know this isn’t what this meeting is about. I live here, yes? I speak to Peter daily, and miraculously Kate and I interact. Get to the point. What trouble is your new play thing causing?”

Wanda’s mumbling barely reaches the widow’s ears, but the moment that she deciphers what she is saying she’s swiping her hand across the table. The glasses filled with untouched wine and cutlery went flying, shattering against the brick walkway. “You will not let this infatuation tear the entire empire down. You will not lose everything over a simpleminded little kid! That idiotic shadow is worth nothing, and it sure as hell isn’t worth the feds even slightly getting close to us. I will not stand by and watch you be foolish. I will not let you bring our lives into danger. I will not let you bring danger to our family. I forbid it Wanda.” 

The Sokovian could feel the anger radiating off of her girlfriend, reaching for the bottle of water a worker offers her. She takes a slow sip, letting the erratic breathing across from her slow down. “You know, Natasha, this entire empire was built by me.” She cocks an eyebrow at the widow, an all knowing smirk gracing her lips. “I worked my ass off, and I rose above everything by myself. The empire you speak of is the Maximoff name. Now, my love, you brought something different to this thing we do and I appreciate that.” The witch watches as the ginger across from her swallows roughly, her anger dissipating as she realizes her mistake. “I am in charge here, and every single one of our henchmen works for me. If you need to be reminded of that, I will gladly teach you that lesson but I would much rather you remember your manners and respect me.” Wanda watches the Russian’s eyes divert, a show of submission, and it makes her snicker. “You brought out a different side of me, and I adore that, but if you ever question my ability to separate business and personal again I won’t hesitate to show you my true power.” The younger woman leans forward now, elbows on the table, as she tauntingly smiles at her partner. “Understand?” The infamous head tilt makes the widow swallow down her pride, nodding slowly.  

This settles the two of them, their lunch finally being served to them, but they barely get halfway through when a worker announces that Wanda has a visitor. The witch sighs, setting her fork down as she tries to gain her composure. She lets the worker escort her to the foyer, after leaving Natasha with some stats and work that needs to be done. 

The witch isn’t surprised often, but when she sees you leaning against the back of a couch there is a bit of shock that travels through her mind. “Y/N, I didn’t expect you to show up here this quickly. Have you been offered any type of refreshment?” You turn slowly, a blank expression on your face as you just stare at her. “I’ll have a couple vodka sodas made and you can decide as we talk if you would like yours. You take it with a twist, right?” She’s walking away now, into some den type of room, and you follow silently. She’s nodding towards the comfy looking couch across from her, smiling as you slide into it; your body relaxing at the smooth leather. 

You roll your shoulders, cracking your neck, as you try to prepare yourself. A young man leans down, offering you a glass, flinching slightly when you almost lunge at him for coming up behind you. Tensely smiling at him you take the offered drink, watching the ice melt slowly. The silence is awkward for you, but you can tell that the ginger across from you is not bothered at all. All the muscles in your body scream at you to move, to run from the place you felt the least comfortable. “You need to stop sending people after me.” Your own voice startles you, and you can’t believe the terse tone that fell from your lips. 

Coming to the realization that Peter nor Yelena wanted to be friends with you, just wanted you to join their weird cult, hurt but you never wanted to show that to their boss. It went against everything you needed to do, it showed a weakness you didn’t want to show. 

Wanda lets your statement float in the air for a while, watching your body tense up and your knee bounce. She’s softly smiling at you, an action that just heightens your awareness. You can’t tell if your heart is pounding because you need to run from this place or if maybe you really like her smile. 

Staring a hole into the rug in front of you, you miss the glimpse of red flashing in her eyes and you miss the cocky smirk that follows when she hears your thoughts. “What makes you believe that I’ve sent people after you, Y/N?” You sit back, watching as she takes a slow sip of her drink. 

You want to move, you want to run. Trapped inside this house that you willingly put yourself in this time, but you couldn’t run. This had to stop, once and for all, the stalking needed to be done. Letting your gaze follow the worker as he leaves the room, you take note of the dozens of workers in the big hall. Clearing your throat, you try your hardest to not let the ginger across from you see your unease. “I know that Peter and Yelena only want to spend time with me so that I will say yes to joining this mad house. I can only guess it’s your doing because we all know that Kate wouldn’t hesitate to show up anywhere I happen to be.” Your eyes roll at the mention of the bubbly brunette, who invades your space entirely too much. 

You hate that you actually miss her, and it makes you skin crawl that you wish you could hear her annoying laugh right now. “It’s honestly hilarious how hard you guys are trying. Is your little organization that pathetic that you need a barely passing college student to make it thrive?” Finally letting your annoyance win over, you gulp down half of your drink as you snicker quietly at the woman across from you. 

The confidence you feel when you notice her jaw clenching makes you smirk outwardly now, cocking your eyebrow at her. Tapping your glass slowly as the two of you have a bit of a stare down, you wait knowing you struck a chord. You want her to break first, to show you a sign of defeat for once. Her demeanor doesn’t waver, even as she begins sipping at her second drink or you slamming the glass down on the wooden center table. You stare stubbornly at the cup, the liquid still sloshing, condensation running down the sides. 

The silence is deafening, even where you usually find solace, it makes your stomach lurch. The longer she sits, casual and settled, it makes you want to fight. The muscles in your body are practically vibrating, energy needing to be let out. You can feel the weight of the blades hidden across your body, the sting when you move your body just right so that a point pushes into you. You sit there, shamefully, as Wanda gets to see you squirm. 

Screaming at you, the voices speak the words you wish you could say. The windows let too much light in, just a little bit too much that it shined against your watch and made you want to break every single pane of glass. The grandfather clock ticking, slow and strong, makes your neck twitch with each beat. You want to tear out the pendulum and use it to smash holes into the impeccably vacant walls. The eyes along the mantle, the few pieces of artwork that line the room, stare into your soul. It makes the stygian creature within you want to tear at the thin stretch of skin desperately trying to escape the penitentiary you locked it in. You want to see the workers around you bleeding slowly, staining the incredibly too pristine floor. Your nail tapping at the shiny glass gets more aggressive the longer you are in your own head, listening to the thoughts that you spend most of the day trying to drown. 

Chugging down the last of your drink, you sigh for what feels like the hundredth time during this conversation. “If you want me that badly, maybe you should just come get me yourself.” Biting your tongue as you try to shake off the growing anger, the growing darkness, you aren’t aware of the ginger across from you standing. 

By the time you finally turn your attention back to her, she’s standing directly in front of you. Her finger lifts your chin slowly, letting you drag your eyes up her body. “Don’t you worry my маленькая тень.” Her lips are on yours before you can even blink, soft and unmoving for a moment before she pulls away. “I’ll always come get you.” Her hand cups your jaw, thumb rubbing your cheek, as her shining emerald eyes meet yours. She doesn’t let you answer, your thoughts swirling together and for the first time the angry violent thoughts silence. Her mouth meets yours again, but this time it’s forceful as she pushes you back. Teeth clashing, a gasp falls into Wanda’s mouth as she uses the opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth. She’s nipping at your lip, her tongue just barely swiping across to soothe the sting.

Wanda’s kiss is more than you ever dreamed of, it’s intoxicating and it makes you feel at peace. Her hand on your jaw grounds you as she asserts her dominance over your mouth easily, you’re too stunned to even try to fight back. She’s straddling you as she pulls away, an all knowing smirk plastered on her face as she stares down at you. Her thumb is dragging across your bottom lip, chuckling as she realizes she split it. Smearing the dribble of crimson, she pops her thumb into your mouth; a moan falling from her lips when you mindlessly start sucking on it. 

Her eyes are bright red, a devious smile spread across her face as she stares down at you. The scarlet glow is memorizing and it makes it hard to think about anything but the weight of her on top of you. You miss the way her free hand hovers over your temple as she searches your brain, gleeful of the lack of fighting. The whimper that tumbles from your lips as she pulls her thumb away surprises you, but it just makes her mockingly snicker at you. She leans down, letting her lips hover over yours. Pulling away slightly when you chase her, chase the swirling in your brain that her kiss causes. She giggles at you, “Don’t worry маленькая тень, Mommy won’t ever leave you waiting too long.” 

It’s the pathetic whine tearing through your throat that finally snaps you out of the haze in your mind, eyes widening when you realize the wetness between your thighs and the predatory look in the green eyes above you. What were you doing? You came here to get these psychos to leave you alone, to let you be a normal person like you were always told to be? 

It’s against your nature, but you begin to panic. Squirming and trying to get out from underneath the redhead, who just rolls her eyes at you. The moment you are no longer trapped, you’re awkwardly scrambling off the couch. Barley giving Wanda a second to say goodbye, you’re running down the hallway towards the door. She watches you as she waves over two workers, “Send the children to follow them. They are a little unstable right now, we need to keep a close eye on them. ” Her eyebrows lift in surprise when she sees you push one of her guards over the banister when he tries to get in your way, panicked frenzy as you finally make it out the front door. “Have a few cleaners sent to clean up whatever mess they just caused too.”

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Her feet resting on her desk with the door closed and all meetings on hold, Kate stares at the phone in her hand. Jaw tense as Wanda sends message after message recounting her moment with you, ocean blue eyes darken with blinding jealousy. The CEO knew that trying to share with the witch was going to be almost impossible, but she didn’t realize the level of possession she already felt over you. Knowing that someone else got to touch you first made the young girl furious, she had claimed you. You were hers, hers to play with and hers to share when she wanted to. 

When she stands she watches with delight as the two silent workers flinch, slipping her gray suit jacket on as she heads out her door. “Madaline, I will be out of the office for the rest of the day. Only let my mother know I left if it’s important, if not then just let everyone know that my doors are not to be opened under any circumstance.” Kate doesn’t even look back as she swiftly enters the elevator, sighing as she leans against the glass. Turning her eyes from the blurred city skyline to her phone, she grits her teeth as she re-reads about how Wanda got to touch you. 

She doesn’t realize the moment she leaves her office building that she's scaling a building, but she feels more at ease once she’s on the first roof. The archer is running, jumping from roof to roof, unsure of where she’s really going. It’s not until she takes a minute to breathe and hears whistling that she knows where she is. The large man is swinging a blender cup as he walks down the street, a gross torn t-shirt soaked with sweat hangs on his body and it makes Kate gag. He looks familiar, and a burning anger starts filling her body, and it only gets worse when the archer finally puts together who the man is. Peter had shown her a photo of him while he told her about how this disgusting brute tried to touch you. 

Every single person keeps getting to touch you, and it makes the brunette’s blood boil. Everybody thinks you belong to them, but who else keeps an eye on you at all times? Who else protects you no matter what? Who else is working to get rid of every bad thing in your life? Who else is risking their entire lifestyle to make sure you get the opportunity to be happy? No one. Just her. So why is everyone else getting to put their hands on you? 

Kate’s eyes are twitching as she watches the man enter your apartment building, and it’s her bone chilling cackle that echoes throughout the alley as she chases after him. When she slips up the stairs she scoffs seeing the man leaving a note on your door, he looks over his shoulder giving her an arrogant smirk. “Wassup sexy?” He raises his chin, letting his eyes scan down her body. She doesn’t say a word as she slips behind him, letting her hands run up his torso. “Love me a straightforward type of girl.” The moment he starts spinning around to look at Kate is the moment he made the biggest mistake. The smile on her face is just a little too wide, pulling her face into a manic looking sneer. 

Slipping an arrowhead from behind her ear, the CEO starts giggling. It’s loud and high pitched as the guy starts panicking, flinching as the sound pierces his eardrums. The tip of the arrowhead slips effortlessly into his sternum, and he freezes. Babbling like a baby that he doesn’t want to die but none of it is even registering in Kate’s head as she stares at the steady line of blood already streaming down his torso. Her hand is covered in blood as she shoves her beloved purple arrow deeper. She watches as his movements get slower, his jaw struggling to form words, and she finally makes eye contact with him. His eyes wide, fear evident, as they flicker around trying to find help. 

“You like that too baby?” Her voice is sweet, too sweet, as she mocks him. She takes a step back as he starts falling, losing all control of his body. “It’s a little invention of my own. You see, baby, you have been going after something that is mine. So my friends and I spent some time in their lab, and now I get to see just how fun it is to play with a worthless boy like you.” Slipping a bright purple dagger from her waistband, she kneels down to drag the tip along his exposed torso. Her darkened eyes twinkle, like stars in the dark of night, watching as lines of crimson start leaking. 

The more Kate thinks about his hands on you, and his eyes undressing you, the more aggressive she begins slicing at his skin. It’s completely silent except for the brunette’s heavy breathing as she focuses on his eyes’ reactions, smirking at each tear that falls. 

By the time there is another person standing at the end of the hall, Kate is too far gone. She doesn’t flinch when a cup softly thumps against the floor, just slowly looking away from the body. Lazy annoyance floods her system at the thought of dealing with a nosy neighbor, but the blazing rage freezes over when she notices who is standing at the end of the hallway.  

You had raced home, wanting to try and forget all the feelings you were having about Wanda. Only stopping at your favorite smoothie stand to try and relax your tense muscles and nerves, but the sight in front of your apartment was anything but relaxing. You knew that people were randomly disappearing from your life, and after the sight in the crazy cult’s house you knew who was at fault. 

Surprise shouldn’t have been the first emotion you felt when you stumbled up your stairs to see Kate covered in the blood of the pig of a neighbor, and the arousal flooding your system really shouldn’t have been the second emotion you felt either. Your mouth opens and closes trying to form a sentence, trying to come up with some to say that makes you sound normal. Mind scrambling to find a way to fill the silence, a snarky comment or some reprimanding, but instead you choke on air as you watch the brunette slowly stand up. 

Her fingers are dripping with blood and her eyes are completely black as she stalks towards you, and while you should feel fear as if you were her prey you can’t help but feel adrenaline. The moment she’s an arm’s length away from you, her hand wraps around your throat and she pushes you up against the wall. Her mouth clashes with yours quickly, not letting you have a moment of hesitation as she claims her lips as hers. It’s almost the complete opposite of your first kiss with Wanda, but you’re gasping and your brain spirals as it tries to keep up with everything that is happening. 

Her free hand is tearing at your hoodie, clawing as she digs underneath it. The moment her bare hands touch your stomach a guttural moan tumbles from Kate’s mouth, and her sharp nails are leaving bright red lines down your torso. Her tongue has forced its way into your mouth and each time you try to reciprocate the kiss, she’s pulling away just slightly. Nipping at your split bottom lip, joyfully drinking each pained whimper falling from your mouth, Kate teases you each time you try to do anything. 

The hand around your throat is tight, nails scratching at your pulse point, as she holds you against the wall. When she finally pulls away to look at the mess she’s made of you, she laughs a full body bright howl. Your face is completely flush and your eyes are glazed over, chest heaving as you try to gain control of your body. The brunette finally lets you breathe as she tugs the hoodie over your head, her mouth attaching to your collarbone. “You’re safe now, my whisper.” Her voice is muffled against your skin, teeth sinking into the softest parts of your body as she leaves marks all over you. “He can’t look at you ever again, no one will ever look at you like that again. Only me because you are my Wipsy.” 

You let your head fall back, hitting the wall, trying to put your thoughts together. Kate’s hands are all over you, and it’s making your vision blur. You need to stop this, this isn’t supposed to be happening. You couldn’t give in this easily just because a pretty girl was on her knees sucking possessive marks in your torso, but the moment her hand slipped up your thigh you knew you were a goner. The moment she slipped your leggings down, biting into the soft of your lower stomach with a growled “mine”, you knew that she had you. A soft moan escapes your mouth, through pursed lips, and it makes Kate’s eyes snap up to you. 

She’s standing quickly, pushing her body against yours, and claiming your mouth with a different vigor. She’s dragging you away from the wall and tears her lips from your, smirking as she pushes you towards the ground. It’s almost natural as you kneel before her, squirming in your spot as the overwhelming wetness between your thighs only intensifies. 

“You look so pretty like this, on your knees for me. I bet your brain is all quiet for once too, isn’t it. All you can think about is me, and how nice it feels to be owned by me.” She chuckles softly, watching you slowly nod. “Look around you Wips, look around at what you could have.” She leans down, cupping your jaw as you let your gaze travel to the blood stained wall where you can see the ghost of your first moment with her. The calloused fingers smear the sticky liquid on your cheek before she leans down leaving a soft kiss on your cheek, a smile spreading across her face before she licks a stripe across your jaw tasting the rapidly drying crimson liquid. 

When a whimper leaves your lips, you're roughly pushed on the ground. Your hair landing in a puddle of scarlet, and she’s dragging you towards her. Directing your legs around her hips as she looks down at you, her hair falling around the two of you as if it was a curtain. She’s giggling at your wide eyes, and for a moment you can see a glimpse of those ocean blue eyes through the dark black. It’s fleeting for as soon as her fingers slip past the waistband of your ruined panties, an arrogant smirk pulls at her lips when she realizes just how wet you are. She lets your legs fall to the floor, spread open for her as she drags the tips of her fingers through your folds. “You’re so messy, so wet. From what? Just from being shoved around a little and rolling around in a bit of blood?” Her tone is incredibly cocky and taunting, making you clench around nothing, hips moving to try and direct her where you want her. She swipes her thumb roughly across your clit, spreading your wetness. 

Kate’s eyes are glued to the way her fingers glisten, biting her bottom lip roughly as she lets two digits slide inside you. The way you gasp as you feel her slightly stretch you makes the woman smile widely, finally taking her eyes off of your cunt to watch your mouth hang open. A high pitch whine escapes you as her palm comes to lay flush against your clit, a breathy “please” makes the brunette chuckle. “Dripping around just two of my fingers? Just you wait until Daddy is stretching your needy little cunt out with her cock.” Her pace is brutal, the sounds of your wet pussy filling the hallway as she pushes you quickly towards the edge. 

Your hips are moving as much as possible against the crimson drenched carpet, the sting of rug burn already evident. Your body is completely betraying you as it tries to take as much of Kate’s fingers, but your mind is still telling you to not fall for her tricks. You have spent so much of your life trying to conform, but you can’t deny the attraction to the brunette and the lifestyle she was offering. You can’t deny how much seeing her splattered with blood might be the most amazing thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on, and you would do anything to see it again. 

The thoughts in your head start getting so distracting that you weren’t aware of the older woman smirking down at you, rubbing the tip of her dark purple strap through your dripping folds. Kate is staring down at you, her eyes rolling at the distant look on your face. She leans down spitting on your clit, giggling as it twitches, before pushing the thick head of her cock into you. When a broken moan leaves your lips the archer can’t help the excessively wide smile, watching as your pussy works to take her large cock. “At least we know your brain can’t ignore your Daddy’s cock.” She sends you a haughty grin, winking as she slowly starts thrusting into you. 

Her arrogant tone and the way she’s so blatantly staring directly at your center for some reason pisses you off, and you can’t control yourself as you angrily pull yourself up on your elbows. “You’re not my fucking Daddy.” Your voice is dripping with venom, but when your eyes flutter as the brunette bottoms out the sharpness in your sentence loses its power. 

Kate’s hand shoots out, fingers gripping your throat tightly as she forces you back onto your back. “Don’t be a disrespectful little whore. Maybe your statement would hold some truth if your slutty cunt wasn’t sucking my dick in, if you weren’t dripping onto the floor making even more of a mess.” She’s rutting into you forcefully now, uncaring as you try to bite at her arm. Her free hand is holding your hip, a bruise already forming from the pressure there, as she lets her thumb rub at your lower stomach. A dark chuckle leaves her mouth as she looks back up at you, “Tell me you don’t love this. Tell me that your needy cunt wasn’t made for my cock.” 

The closer to the edge you get the more irritated you feel, it wasn’t supposed to go like this. You had woken up confident today, confident in your ability to get these people to leave you alone, but the weight of Kate’s cock as she slides into you is intoxicating. A glance down and you can see a slight bulge where her thumb is rubbing your stomach, and just the sight of it makes you clench around her. You want to prove her wrong, tell her that you hate everything, but you can’t. The most obnoxious person you have ever met has you dangling over the edge by a thread quicker than anyone ever has. You’re opening and closing your mouth, trying to gain the pride to not beg but as usual Kate is somehow one step ahead of you. 

Letting her hand press against your stomach, her thumb dips down to rub a harsh circle on your neglected clit. “I’ve always liked when my fucktoys had a bit of a mouth to them, makes them more fun to break.” She’s hovering just above you now, teeth biting painfully at your neck as she marks you. Her position makes it easy for her to start pounding into you relentlessly, the sounds of your broken moans fill the air. “You’re Daddy’s little cock slut. Mine.” The harder she ruts into you, the more she chants mine. 

As your moans become louder and more frantic, Kate starts to giggle. She gets louder the more brutal her movements become, and she forces your head to the side. “If you want to cum, you have to tell me the truth, my little Wipsy. Tell me what you really want. Let those pretty thoughts run wild, you don’t need to pretend around Daddy.” She’s leaning her forehead against your jaw and with each thrust she forces your head into the carpet repeatedly. 

The special harness she’s wearing rubs against your clit with the new angle that she’s at, and it makes the coil in your stomach extremely rigid. You can’t tell if it’s the pain in your cheek or the struggle to try to hold off your orgasm, but you can feel tears starting to build up in your eyes. Not even quite sure why you’re listening to the brunette, you try to speak but your voice completely cracks and it makes you whimper pathetically in embarrassment. The mocking laughter tumbling out of her lips vibrates through your body, and it makes you even more frustrated. 

Kate lets her mouth fall to your neck, freeing your jaw, as she works to leave more marks on you. “I- I want this. I want your life, I hate the idea of being normal.” Your voice is shaky, broken by gasps and whimpers, but you can feel the smile on the older woman’s face. “I want to give in so badly. I wan- I need to give in, but I’m so scared. I can’t lose anyone else, but I want..” Your voice trails off as Kate starts rutting into you almost painfully, your hands begin to frantically cling to her suit jacket hoping to ground yourself. 

The archer above you grunts as she slams into you, letting one of her hands slip between you two to rub sloppy circles at your clit. “C’mon, say it, say it like the good little hole you are.” The giggle in her voice is prominent, almost a taunt to push you to say what she wants. 

You can barely speak, can barely breath, but with each merciless thrust you know you need to find your words quickly. The volume of your voice is barely over a whisper, stuttered and cracking, “I want you…Daddy..” The moment those words fall from your lips you can sense a difference in the brunette on top of you. 

Kate’s hands force yours above your head, heavily leaning on her hand that is holding yours. Her dark sapphire eyes are staring at you with an entirely too sweet smile on her face, “You’re mine and you will get everything you want, I’ll make sure of it.” Her voice is entirely too steady for how hard she’s thrusting into you, your wetness leaving a puddle below you two. “Now, be a good little slut and cum for your Daddy. Show me you just how much you want me.” Her thumb is tracing your bottom lip as she watches you, watches your eyes struggling to stay open. 

A particularly rough thrust rubs the harness perfectly against your clit, and it shoves you over the edge. Your eyes rolling into the back of your head as the coil in your stomach shatters, and you’re mumbling around the thumb that popped into your mouth. “You’re so pretty when you cum for me, my little shadow.” Her hips are slowly moving, helping you calm down from your high. Your entire body feels like it’s vibrating as you lay there, muscles sore and random stinging all over. 

Only flinching when Kate’s pulls out, immediately feeling empty and missing the stretch. You lay on the ground, paying no attention as the archer rolls around to get comfortable between your legs. Her head lands on your stomach, rocking around as she starts getting bored. She’s dipping her finger in the puddles of splattered blood, and the muscles in your stomach jump as she starts drawing along the sensitive skin there. You don’t have enough energy to even roll your eyes as she starts giggling and humming to herself as she paints in crimson.

Nor do you have energy to panic when you hear heavy footsteps approaching, but when you weakly let your head roll to look at the newcomers you realize there’s no need to stress. Yelena and Peter stand along the wall, unimpressed looks on their faces, as they wait for what looks like dozens of workers to line up.  

The blonde rolls her eyes, kicking Kate’s foot. “Get your ass up, we have to clean up your annoying mess.” You watch as she starts mumbling out what seems to be orders but you can’t understand her as she’s speaking Russian. “Petes, open the apartment we need to move. Also look away since bubbles cannot cover up her hookups.” The two shuffle around you, the boy diverting his eyes respectfully. “Get moving Bishop, we will not wait all day for you.” 

Kate sighs heavily, pouting as she watches her workers start to clean up the puddles around her. Standing slowly she looks down at you, a smirk on her face as she observes your state. Eyes still unfocused, blood splattered and painted all over, bra pushed up and pants barely hanging onto one of your ankles, her marks all over your body- you look completely fucked and she loves it. Pulling out her phone she takes a quick picture, before slipping her arms under you and picking you up. You grumble some, annoyed at being moved, but she just shushes you. She carries you into your apartment where Peter, with his eyes shut tightly, awkwardly covers you with a blanket. 

She sits next to Yelena, letting you lounge against her and your legs laying in the blonde’s lap. You sleepily watch as the boy closes your door before spinning around, a charming smile on his face as he smooths out his jacket lapels. “Well it looks like we have a lot to talk about, yes?” He smiles widely at you, crossing to your small kitchen to grab a bottle of water out of the fridge. You take the cold drink thankfully, too tired to put up a front. “First part of business though, welcome to the family Shadow.” 

Taglist: @tforjatp @inluvwithfictionalwomen @lightupthemoon

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[dnangelic]

the hollow nonviolence but nevertheless heavily palpable longing and empty vastness of daisuke's heart. post

#*･ﾟ⊰ 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒. ⊱ ✦ › OUT. #full sincerity i do not mean this in an edgy oooh my cute moeblob's darkness(tm) his hidden evil side way #because this is dark's loneliness too. this is dark's wanting TOO #but dark's is daisuke's is dark's is daisuke's and they're both #the epitome of leroux's erik's description + christine's waved away loneliness too #a heart that could hold the entire empire of the world but has to content itself with a cellar #a child who's never taken seriously or properly respected despite his stubborn independent streak #or even the canon quote itself- it's enormous but empty. completely vacant. dark. there's nothing but a black pillar (themselves) #and 'nothing to satisfy someone-' i knoooow dai looks the way he does but oh my gooooodh -drags my hands down my face- #he's restless he's restless it's not blood guts violence edgy that his emptiness brings him #it's the heart of a thief someone who STEALS which is also why i abstain from too much hunger metaphor #because they DON'T want to devour they don't want to chew and swallow they want to KEEP!!! #they want to shelter and house and have something anything someone anyone they want to take care of it #BUT THE CURSE!!!! #what they do eat of is their own sin and fall; the apple. the fairy tale candy. the fairy table feast. the pomegranate #and once daisuke starts there's NOTHING left for him except to become the devil even if he's the innocent cherub!! #HE CAN'T RESIST THOSE TEMPTATIONS he can't resist the demands of his desires compassionate or not!!! #anyways i got sidetracked but i just think muses who ever see daisuke's heart #is it gentle? yes. is it warm? no. but it's a chill that makes a shared fireplace or someone's touch and blood warmer #it's lonely it's heavy it's grandiose and noble there are rooms waiting for you to walk in and spread light #candlelight starlight azumano's mock-gaslit lanterns!!! #everybody looks up 2 a rebel but nobody knows how isolating it is not just for dark as sb who decided to betray #and was therefore cast out alone left to bear enormous immense burdens all by himself ostracized and wounded #but for daisuke too caught in the shadow of dark's wings #u kno? ok. thats all